welcome, february

my last post was november. NOVEMBER. since then, i've ridden a bike (first bike ride in 22 years) along south beach, moved into a new apartment, tasted multiple rum punch concoctions at the local dive bar (the pink one's the best), added a daily dose of levothyroxine to my pill-popping ways, returned to a semi-regular yoga practice, bought strawberry plants, and, over three very long post-new years days, cleansed my insides with juice, broth, and tea. guess i have a lot to write about.

i need a maid

saw this "car" this morning. it's a repurposed meter maid cart, now someone's personal set of wheels. my favorite part is the wooden roof rack.

in the same walk, i overheard a three-year-old boy telling his mom that in order to get enough money to buy a dozen bagels (mom could only "afford" to get him one for breakfast), he is going to sell all his legos. the kid had better hurry. lunch is almost here.

how my week normally begins

it's the dawn of a new day, and i'm beginning my trek to work. the sidewalks are empty, save for a few people bumbling side to side, half awake with dark circles cast under their eyes and their shirts barely tucked in. they make odd groans as we pass each other, me saying "good morning" and them responding with "gawewahaa" or something similar. i admit, my street can emit an eerily vacant vibe early in the day, and i consider running back inside to hide under a blanket and wait out whatever the day may have in store for me. that is, until i see several cars come and go. zombies don't drive cars, which means this is just a typical monday and all is well in the world.

post:ballet

this week at the appeal, i wrote a small piece on post:ballet, a small, upstart ballet-ish company here in san francisco.

call me crazy, but i'll just pass.

last week, i came across this house for sale in the city. the property itself needs some work, but it was the description that gave me pause.



"Charming spacious Edwardian two-level 3br + sunroom, 1-1/4 bath home in Central Richmond awaits new owner after 40+ years of ownership. Owner moved to retirement home. All of the rooms are generous in size. Bedrooms and main bath on upper level. Refinished hardwood floors throughout the house. Softwood on stairs. Living room and formal dining rooms have built-in cabinets. Eat-in kitchen plus pantry area. Newly painted interior and exterior. Original kitchen and baths. New garage door opener. Deep garden for potential great landscaping. Staged to show its full potential. As-is purchase. Offer deadline on July 6 @ 12 noon."

things might not work: a pipe could burst, the foundation might slide, but hey, don't fret. you'll be able to get into the garage.

q&A with janice garrett and charles moulton

this week at the appeal, i interviewed janice garrett and charles moulton, two choreographers who are in a relationship both on and off the dance floor. read their inspirational words here.

photo by rj muna

slackher

lately, i've felt slacker worthy. i'm fairly certain this cool san francisco spring weather has inadvertently encouraged me to accept my inner bear and hibernate. but i'm challenging myself to change it up over the summer.

1. clean the stove top twice a week. right now, i'm lucky if i make it to once a month. hand, meet mr. little scrubbie. and... clean that grime!

2. zumba my ass off. or at least try a zumba class. just one. i'm getting complacent with pilates, and i need a change. but one that doesn't involve krav maga or a steroidal, overly waxed, oranger-than-mama-lohan man in booty shorts blowing his whistle and yelling at me to "hut hut!" and then drop and give him twenty. because then my wallet will be fresh out of cash.

3. find a new genre of fiction. i admit that i'm getting somewhat addicted to paranormal romance/urban fantasy/anything with a strong female character who kicks the evil undergrowth of society to the curb, all while wearing pointy stilettos and keeping her coif perfectly up do-ed. perhaps i'll try historical westerns.

4. drink beer. i hate beer. or most beers. i've never liked bitter or hopsy flavors. but a few weeks ago, i found a delicious beer at a brewery out in the inner sunset. the only problem: it sits in a giant thingamagig with beets, fermenting and all that sh!t for months. and i'm allergic to beets. so for now, i challenge myself to find solomente una cerveza that i just might drink a pint of without getting the sour lemon pucker face.

5. figure out how to get victoria's secret hair. you know, that constantly windblown yet casual, come hither hair. the kind that you want to run your fingers through all day long, all while thinking, "yes, this is natural! look at how effortless i look!" that. i want that.

6. and while i'm at it, let's throw in one serious "want". i want all the crazies (i'm talking to you, fox news, in particular) to stop bitching about how abortion, gay marriage, and public education are ruining society. is it so hard to give a damn about other people's rights? i mean, c'mon. you care so much about arnold's mistress' three bedroom condo in the valley. and how smarmy that country boy is on american idol. and whether sjp really did get that wart removed or maybe how it just retired and moved itself to florida. how about putting that much effort into making the world a better place.

sfb's mermaid

i saw sf ballet's "the little mermaid" this week. itching to try something a little different, i took a new spin on my review by collecting thoughts from friends in the audience (i knew at least six non-dance people who were there the same night i was). check it out here at the sf appeal.

presidential

i'm all dressed up in my one little black dress, ready to hang out with 3,000 of my closest buddies while we eagerly anticipate the.president's arrival atop nob hill. my clutch is devoid of anything pre-deemed illegal like lotion and an umbrella. no sneaking in tequila for me tonight.

ya jammin'

this week, i observed an impressive group of teens (the odc dance jam) as they rehearsed for their big performance. read about it here.

this morning

walking down the little side street to work this morning, i was fairly oblivious, listening to npr's discussion of tax season and the difficulties people have with understanding deductions, box checking, and child tax credits. when i reached the guard desk, our security man said, "hey, was someone honking at you out there?" so whomever was possibly honking their horn at me, i'm sorry that i was mentally sucked in to fm radio. it's archaic, i know. but i love it.

sf ballet and chroma

this week, i reviewed sf ballet's program 6, and was blown away by wayne mcgregor's "chroma".

i see london, i see france

a few years ago, a neighboring tenant across the backyard started hanging his man things in his window. weekly, he'd put a pair of tighty whities up on a wooden board, and hang them in the sun, taking them down every week or so. then the board would be empty for a few days, and then the underpants would return. it's boggled me, but what could i do but glance elsewhere? honeymooning in belize gave me a great excuse to drink frozen, fruity beverages on a nightly basis. somewhere in there, i told todd that i wanted to get to the bottom (ha! get it?) of this fruit-of-the-loom caper. his bright idea: hang my panties in response. little did he know that two days upon our return, i would do exactly that.

so far, no reply. but i'm eagerly waiting with baited breath.

an interview with artist kegan marling

today at the appeal, i interview kegan marling about his new work "jump ship mid way." marling says, "i started talking to peers about their experience of what it means to be a gay adult and found that most didn't identify themselves as "adult," despite being of an age that is traditionally associated with maturity and adulthood. this traditional understanding of "adulthood" seems to be a choice we make, and a choice that not many gay men are making. is it a resistance to "normalizing" our sexuality? a desire to remain eternally youthful? or the lack of gay role models to offer alternatives? i felt this was worth exploring." read the full column here.

a hand in desire

my review of emspace dance's "a hand in desire" is up at the appeal. if you're in the bay area and a) like tennessee williams or b) want to experience local dance/theater at its most unique, go see this!

todd accompanied me to see "hand" last friday, and as we were early, we ducked into a handful of used/new book stores along valencia on our way to the show, with a particular interest in finding the bookstore cats. almost all used bookstores tend to have local pets, and we had time to kill. well, we didn't find any, except one place that had a mini-memorial to their beloved sphynx who had recently journeyed to the giant catnip clouds in the sky.

as we checked in for the performance, the director, erin mei-ling stuart, came up and introduced herself to me at the exact same time that todd said, "becca! look!" with erin's hand in mine, i spun around to see a black ball of something on top of an animal-print blanket in a wheelbarrow (it's a unique store with a basement performance space).

the lighting inside was dark, and with todd just pointing, all i could do was furrow my brow and say, "is that a cat or a dog?" he started laughing, and replies, "what do YOU think?" um. really. i can't tell. it's DARK in here, man. and our cat is bigger than a pug; size doesn't matter! oh, and i'm hand-in-hand with the director here, and you've pulled my attention away for a questionable black ball of fuzz? so i turned around to the director and tried to play it cool... "i've got somewhat poor night vision. is that a cat? a dog? can i pet it?"

afterward, all i could think of was erin totally baffled at having invited an animal-crazed, blind woman to review her production. and it was a cat.

i did it!

i didn't wear baggy pants belted around my thighs, but i did take a hip hop class last weekend! go read about my foray into hip hop in my (fairly) weekly "dance flash" column at the sf appeal.

no, sir, my fingers are sick.

it's so cold in my office, i'm wearing gloves as i type.

my very legal baggie full of pot

since i live in the city and can't get packages reliably delivered at home (this includes pretty much anything larger than an envelope!), i have most things sent to me at work, including bras, cat food, and everything nintendo.

awhile back, the branding chicks down in LA sent me a cooking game for my dsi along with a really cool cuisinart cooking pot. i took the cooking assistant game home with me, as it was small and could fit in my purse, but i kept the stew pot at work for odd reasons that now don't make too much sense, like we were running out of room with the wedding gifts piling up, and i couldn't figure out how to get the pot home easily on the bus.

it's quite possibly been six months since receipt, but last friday, i decided to start this new year off right--getting back to blogging, straightening up my office were amongst my non-resolutiony goals. that evening, i carted my pot home in an old navy bag (which amazingly, never even got so much as a hole in it. how do old navy bags hold up better than their clothes?) via the bus. but how is it i didn't get one pot joke (besides from todd and me) the whole way home?


* as a nintendo wii and dsi brand ambassador through brand about town, i receive free games and other products, like a nintendo dsi and a dsi xl. the wii, though, was a wedding gift from a good friend. the opinions expressed in this blog are mine and the facts true.

i returneth.

today, my sister finally gave me the heave-ho, saying, "your blog has been lacking. unacceptable." eek. when my own sister tells me that i (or my blog) is unacceptable, well, that's fairly serious. according to her, dying my hair pink is encouraged, burping the alphabet would win me a medal (i'm very, very medal-less at this point), and should i choose to dance along the golden gate bridge on a cold winter morning, she would shower me with standing ovations galore. case in point (for her):


the 13 second mark is my favorite, even with the video upside down. so em, here's a photo for you, snapped along irving street in the sunset last month.

oh, and i'm back.

harvest time

over the past few days, todd and i have been talking about one day buying a house. flat. condo. refrigerator box. whatever. now that we're married, it's probably the next, yet far-off, step to take. in the city, condo prices are decreasing, and today i spent a few minutes looking at the mls to see what's out there in the 'hoods that we prefer.

separately, many years ago, for some incredibly stupid reason, i told todd that cotton came from sheep. yes, i knew that cotton grew as fibrous clusters on cotton plants, but for some insane reason, my brain turned cotton into wool. blame it on me being thoroughly distracted by his disheveled curls and adorable grin.

but somehow these two things--living space and my owning up to my past stupidity--converged, when trying to figure out how to have enough of a down payment to have an affordable mortgage.

him: we could sell the dowry of sheep that I'm still waiting for.

me: the sheep coming from florida? man, they're going to arrive as a flat of american apparel t-shirts. there's no resale value in that, except to crappy haight street tourist shops.

him: 100% cotton, right?

me: yep. but don't expect organic. florida* don't roll that way.

*to be honest, i have no experience or knowledge regarding the state of florida's cotton industry, harvesters, or any growing regulations. my florida-related experience extends to my sand-filled childhood and family** who still live there.
**we're just beachy.