fits for mitts

i've been debating what to get my mom for mother's day. do i rely on a nice bouquet of flowers to convey how thankful i am when she made me buttered toast with cherry preserves when i was under the weather? or do chocolates infused with lavender and jasmine say "thank you" with more west coast flair? or should i just go kooky, and give her these silicone dog and frog mitts from sur la table? it would surely illustrate my thanks for when i was dropped on my head as an infant.

the bee's knees

i'm approaching my first full day of recovery following knee surgery, and it sounds like it went well. a little trimmed meniscus here, a little tissue issue over there. i'm all situated on the couch, ready to drift off into some kind of hazy sleep. i vicodined last night, and it helped, but i woke up all fuzzy feeling, although that may have been since alphie slept under my chin most of the night. some challenges associated with post-surgery recovery:

1. no full showers until the middle of next week. this will lead me to having to contort 2/3's of my body in the shower while todd holds onto my left leg outside of the tub.
2. if i drop something, i'm screwed, unless the dropped something is big. then i can use my crutches like chopsticks.
3. vh1 actually shows videos in the early AM. great! but thumbs down: they're showing robin thicke, who sports the same pumpkin head as his dad, alan. ack! and did i mention that he croons like a girl? dude, get some balls.
4. dizziness and nausea. my sister forewarned me of this, so i'm making sure to wear running shorts (not that i can run 'cuz i can't. but i can hobble!), and i put my cell phone in the pocket whenever i get up. just in case i collapse in the closet. then i can call to alphie, and he can drag me to safety. or at least nibble my toes until i wake up in a puddle of my own drool.
5. i now have 3 separate pairs of crutches. one from spraining my ankle in august of 2002, one from knee incident september 2006, and now one from arthroscopic adventure 2007. maybe if i get artistic in a vicodin/keflex/aspirin/ginger ale haze, i can create some kind of unique crutch art, complete with ace bandages, empty pill bottles, and blue painter's tape (since this stuff can fix anything, even my ethernet cable).

Lines Ballet in collaboration with the Shaolin Monks, 4/20/2007

Lines Ballet in collaboration with the Shaolin Monks
April 20, 2007
Yerba Buena Center for the Arts

Most likely, when you think of ballet, you don’t automatically think kung fu. Or monks. Or young boys performing front headsprings (yes, head, not hand) across a stage. But thanks to Alonzo King’s creative wit, that’s exactly what we got with Lines Ballet’s collaboration with San Francisco’s localized Shaolin Monks. This evening (rumored to be titled “Long River High Sky” yet not listed as such anywhere in the materials) combined King’s distinctive contemporary choreography with the Monks’ kung fu, tai chi, gymnastics, and overall calming presence, and what began as a ballet vs. monk dichotomy ended with a common understanding that both performance styles and beliefs held beauty and strength in high regards...

For more, go here.

boogie nights

i'm so glad that our homeless are finally setting attainable goals for themselves. thanks, mayor newsom! now if only you could teach them to spell...

family ties

awhile back, some of my coworkers and i were chatting over lunch. somehow, the conversation got around to what our boyfriends/husbands/wives/girlfriends/significant others did, where they were from, and how often did we visit each other families. when the conversation got to me, i said finance, grew up in socal, and that as todd's mom now lives in the caribbean (i explained where that is: between martinique and guadalupe, etc.), we only visit about every one or two years. one woman looked at me real intently, sort of squinting her eyes and tilting her head, and then said, "becca, i never knew that about you. not that there's anything wrong with it and all." um, ok. i'm confused. "huh?" "yeah," she replied, "i never knew you were into black guys."

guess i had some explaining to do...

like warm rhubarb pie

when i was younger, my mom would make this amazing rhubarb pie. in our house, pie was the only respectable profession for rhubarb. no pickles, no breads, no stuffing. just pie. last week we got two stalks of rhubarb in our veggie box, so i whipped out my mom's recipe for rhubarb custard pie. originally, it called for 4 cups of rhubarb, but we only had enough for 2, so i substituted 2 cups sliced strawberries. next time, i think i'll make it 3, just for kicks. make this for a spring bbq or a loved one. or yourself.

strawberry rhubarb custard pie, a variation on martha's simply rhubarb custard pie

Ingredients
1 1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
salt
3 eggs
2 cups 1-inched sliced rhubarb
2-3 cups sliced strawberries
2 pie crusts (dethawed)
2 tablespoons butter, chopped

Directions
Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix sugar, flour, nutmeg and a dash of salt. Add to 3 beaten eggs; beat smooth. Stir in sliced rhubarb and strawberries.

Prepare pastry for 9 inch lattice-top pie. Line 9 inch pie plate with pastry. Fill with rhubarb mixture. Dot with butter. Adjust lattice top and seal. Bake at 400 degrees for 50 minutes. Let cool at least 30 minutes prior to eating.

this is the true story, of seven strangers, picked to live in a house...

recently, all the city's buses that are attached to electric cables have been made accessible via the online nextbus service. this is a huge plus: i can check on my phone to see which bus line to take, how late my morning commute will actually be, and if i have time to stop by the mailbox/puppy tied to the newsstand/dry cleaner/neighborhood rave on my way to my stop.

there are a few snags, though. last night, i was waiting downtown for a bus, and the service told me the next sweet ride was coming in 28 minutes. what?!?! how long? i tried to flag a yellow/luxor/checker/big dog/city/national/any cab to no avail, yet low and behold, 5 minutes later, my bus shows up. hmmm. this morning, the 8:15am bus was late, so i looked it up. next bus in 22 minutes. um. no. i called muni (it's on speed dial, mind you), which is now transferred to our "new and improved" city-wide 311 service, yet i received poor and worsened assistance. ah, my tax dollars at work. "the next bus will arrive in 15 minutes, ma'am." i responded, telling her that nextbus said 22 minutes and that this line is supposed to run every 8 minutes during the morning commute. "oh. well. i don't have current bus information, but i am told that no buses are missing from the line." now, the old muni customer service line used to give you up-to-date bus info, and if they didn't have it, they'd practically flag down the bus for you (via radio, no flags included) and find out or use their esp to dig the info out of the bus driver's brain as he's parked his partially full bus outside of el taqueria to run in for some chips, salsa, burrito grande with all the fixins', and chicas, but not anymore. funny enough. 3 minutes later, my bus arrived. so what's the moral of today's lesson? i'm still unsure, but i'm pretty sure it has something to do with going with the flow, everyone's different, you just need to deal with whatever's thrown at you, and what do you expect for $45/month.

classy

the last time we flew, this happened:


we sat in our tiny leg-roomless seats (which my torn meniscus/bone-bruised knee didn't care for) at o'hare for extra hours just to get de-iced, re-iced, and de-iced again. with no leg room and drool still caked near my lower lip, i silently vowed to never fly again (except to get home). but thankfully that was an empty threat that never made it above a whisper, as todd and i just booked our trip to europe. we're hitting up prague and amsterdam, business-class style (thank you, united visa!). we'll get to stretch our legs, drink wine prior to take-off, and ideally, not wake up to a dead body next to us. maybe we'll even get some lufthansa booties. oh, the life!

on a side note, if you're going to travel in style via 4 wheels and bench-style seating, why not do it with fruit?