Tur-Duck-Hen

Recently, I was introduced to the idea of the three-in-one thanksgiving surprise...the tur-duck-hen. Although, this bird in bird in bird feast is the title of this entry, it is not the actual subject. It's just come up a lot when talk about Thanksgiving arises.

Anyway, I just wanted to say happy Thanksgiving!

All I Want For Christmas

The holidays are almost upon us, and, if you're like me, you've already begun picking out what you'd like to give and recieve this season. Yea, it's all about the gesture, but tell that to the person whose gifts are returned before they are even opened (no, not me). If people would just say what they want, this whole process would be a lot smoother. Christmas lists were so much easier when we were kids:
1. My Pretty Pony - the pink unicorn with the purple hair
2. Transformers (don't ask...I still love them.)
3. E-Z Bake oven to replace the one we broke last year.

Now, I can't really tell people what I want:
1. Money - checks or cash only people, unless you're my dad and you get good gift certificates
2. Clothes - but only if my Dad is buying them because he's got good taste
3. Money - this time only cash.

It's not like having a list has become taboo or anything, it's just that being honest about it has. Kids have no shame, so writing down a million toys and expecting to get every one of them is not an issue to them. Actually handing over a list containing items such as financial freedom, car, or vacation, with a straight face, is a little more challenging. It doesn't have to be that way. So, this holiday season, give the gift of honesty. Tell them you just want cash because they'd be too embarassed to get you what you really want.

Big City My Ass

Without claiming that San Francisco is the largest big city in this fine nation, I will point out that as far as "big cities" go, this one really ain't that big. There is something to be said for anonymity. Faceless creatures passing one another on the streets of the city, but not here. Everywhere you turn it's either someone you know, or someone you recognize, or someone you had a one night stand with.

In a "big city," people like my friend, we'll call her X, should be able to commute to or from work or visit her local dentist without running into that guy she hooked up with once in the past and has successfully avoided since. San Francisco is becoming a lot like Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, except the cable cars don't take you to some strange fairyland where everyone speaks in high pitched voices. They take you to Fisherman's Wharf.

With big cities becoming smaller, more and more people will be forced to start relationships instead of running out the door while putting their clothes back on...because if they don't, there will be a lot of uncomfortable moments at the dentist.

After reading yesterday's post, Frank K. wrote, "How about hand washing, too, while you're at it." Honestly Frank, I am not so sure something can become a lost art if it was never found. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but thanks for reading!

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Office Crime Blotter

Last night, a big coward removed Lauri S.'s large cardboard Darth Vader cut-out from her interior office window after she left for the evening. While committing this heinous act, they also removed the "Lauri, I'm your father sign" from the window leaving only tape remnants behind. Unfortunately, Frank K. ruined the crime scene so we can't dust for fingerprints or identify the culprit, but if anyone has any information about this horrible act, please let me know.

The Lost Art of Flushing

I used to believe that one thing set us humans apart from animals...toilet flushing. But unless there are animals working on the 25th floor of my office, I see that I am mistaken. The question has plagued me for a while (approximately 1 year, since today is my anniversary), how hard is it to flush. It only takes one second, you can even use your foot.

Perhaps there are advantages to not flushing. Arguably, it saves time and energy, but beyond that? Perhaps people are just disgusting. I think this argument may, unfortunately, be a little more plausible. What would this world become if everyone just stopped flushing...I mean, besides dirty.

Movies that Suck

I didn't think it was possible, but I actually saw a movie that sucked harder than The Truth About Charlie. It was Bulletproof Monk. The saddest thing about the movie, aside from the lines taken straight from fortune cookies, was that it took itself a bit too seriously. We laughed at it, not with it. In the end...well, we didn't actually see the end because The Simpsons came on, but I'm sure that the end sucked too.

Who's Billy?

Her words said one thing, but her tone said another. Now I am left with the daunting task of determining what she meant.

She was dressed for snow and carried a newspaper. I was waiting for the bus. It was windy and it seemed as if rain was only seconds away...it was. She stopped near me and turned. I looked at her. She mumbled something. I asked her to repeat herself. She said, "You let Billy push you to do things." I said, "Uh...yea." She walked away.

Her words sounded a warning as if she knew what my problem was, but her tone seemed to imply that letting Billy push me to do things was really the solution. Should I let Billy push me or not?

Her statement begs another question: who's Billy?

Things People are Saying

About my blog:

"Funniest posting yet" - Catherine C.

"lori told me abt the mass email re your blog that i wasn't on. nice." - V.P. (This is both about me and my blog)

"I need your blog address." - Sarah C.

About each other:

"Raphe and Sarah are some of the best people I've met since moving out here." - Andrew S.

"Andrew; he's my kind of guy" - Raphe G.

"I hate that tool" - Anon.

Voting: It's Not as Easy as it Looks

Today was my second San Francisco election. Boy, did I think I was ready. Well, I wasn't. Perhaps I went into it too cocky or I didn't stretch enough beforehand, but whatever it was, this voting day really caught me off-guard.

First, there wasn't a line. Without a line, I had no prep time. It was just walk in and vote. Freaky. Second, they didn't ask for photo identification. As long as I knew the name and address of the person I was claiming to be, I was set. Third, I had done all the research beforehand and had even brought a cheat sheet. My first mistake was not embracing the speed that was already given to me. My second mistake was trying to make it go even faster. You see, there were a number of propositions on the ballot. I decided while in the midst of filling out the ballot that if I went through first and filled in all of the nos, then went back for all of the yeses, I'd be out in seconds. Well, it was working beautifully until Proposition M. Apparently, I can't make my mind up about violent solicitation because I voted yes and no.

The mistake caused quite a scene too. I believe the election officials couldn't believe that someone would attempt to vote yes and no to something. The ballot machine made a loud noise and spat out some problem report. The only other guy voting snickered. It was a mess. In the end, if you mess up they give you another ballot and you have to start over, but they will make snide comments like, "let's try not to mess this one up too."

Good thing I gave them the wrong name.

P.S. I didn't get an "I voted" sticker this time either, but this time it may have been performance related...

Good news! Roy Horn is officially off the critical list.

Did you know that the attack took place on Roy's 59th birthday? What a crappy present.

Tuesday is election day here in San Francisco. Despite my stellar turnout at the polls last month, certain people are still pestering me about voting. Don't get me wrong, I love a phone call here or there, but everyday?

Listen Dianne Feinstein, I'm gonna vote. Get off my back.

It's been a while. I was thinking tonight that perhaps my absence from "the stuff in my head" leads you all to think that there just isn't anything in my head at all. Well, that is just not true. For example, in the past week,
- I got a painful flu shot, which was quickly followed by a strange band-aid shaped welt on my arm (which upon recent investigation, is now a strange band-aid shaped scar),
- I made several life altering decisions,
- I played BINGO five times and lost every time (it really is a game of chance, not skill),
- I purchased some folding chairs and a hamper (and various other items from Bed, Bath, and Beyond - Beyond really means Kitchen crap, so why don't they just call it Bed, Bath, and Kitchen crap),
- and I tried for the last time to plug my printer in to my computer using cords that don't fit.

As you can see, there has been a ton of stuff in my head.

I was just watching the Truth about Charlie on television. Why, you ask? Because it was on and I am too lazy to change the channel when I can't find the remote. Without ruining the movie for those of you fortunate enough not to have seen it, the truth about the Truth about Charlie is that it sucks. It was weird and crappy and bad enough that several times throughout, I seriously considered getting up and changing the channel myself. I even considered turning off the t.v. and staring into space. If you can avoid it, do.

See, there is always something in my head...and, unfortunately, as of late, there is also always something on my arm too.