On those nice sunny days, and there are many here. I HAVE to go out and enjoy the sun on my face, even for five minutes. It makes me feel human. And as one who was deprived of the great ball of fire in the sky for the first 20 years of life, I really do appreciate having it on tap. So out I go for a wander of a lunchtime.
I also love people watching. The tribal habits of the human species never ceases to amaze me and I love to shake my head in a superior manner as I pigeon-hole innocent passers-by based on nothing more than their wardrobe and my prejudices.
So right now, I am in lunchtime heaven. I've discovered the Starbucks 2 blocks away, opposite the big conference centre. So I can idle along, gawp at the tribe-de-jour in line, play guess the convention as I stroll in the sun, tall, no-fat, vanilla, latte in hand. Then be perfectly smug when I spot an entrance tag to confirm my assumptions were right.
Todays wardrobe of choice:
women with Doc Marten shoes and extended bellies.
young(ish) blokes in no-style in particular jeans and Tenacious D T-shirts
middle aged men with longish ponytails straggling down from a bald heed
and that Silicon Valley uniform of choice - grey with black graphic pattern, short sleeved shirt and 1998 no-name training shoes.
That'd be a game developers convention then?
Oh how smug and perfect am I? Despite my new vanilla latte addiction I can still spot a geek at 50 paces. I am GOOD!
Normally at this point I'd self obsess about what people think of me when they see me wandering the streets, sipping coffee and eating a muffin from a bag. But today I wont. Because today was Game Developers day - and since I'm not plugged into a 16-inch monitor with multiple 3D viewing options and an weapons arsenal to rival the Queens Highlanders, I know no one thought anything of me - or even saw me. I like that fact!.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Saturday, March 3, 2007
La Lump
I've had many requests for an update on the lump. It throws me into such a soapbox-esque rant that I've been avoiding it. Summary is, its gone away! If I really poke and squash my face I can feel it. And it's defo there on the x-rays, but so not bugging me anymore. So I'm in the quandry of leave it or persue it in case it should flare up again and leave me in an covered medical insurance state. Hmmmmm. ENT guy doesnt believe its on the bone or anything. Although he doesnt know what it is. Hubby blames a humungous trapped bogie (nice thought). Sister suspects an internal big zit. Colleague thinks an ingrowing nasal hair (even nicer thought). Not sure what is worse, internet self diagnosis (see earlier posting) or soliciting opinion of common sense acquantances. Hmmm what to do?
Friday, February 23, 2007
No sh**!
Big San Francisco experience today.
Sitting at my desk working on a proposal, type type type, half listening to the meeting on the other side of the suspended glass partition screen, type type type, it's Friday, wonder if we'll go boogyboarding again tomorrow, type type type, is that two graphic recorders or one, type type type - WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??? I turn towards the meeting to see the partition screen visibly shake - WAS THAT WHAT I THINK IT WAS?
Yup, an earthquake!!! No shit!
Now at this point it gets a little surreal. Everyone else in true California techno hippy freak style goes 'wow' lets check - and sit down at their computers! They all log onto the earthquake monitoring site (they all know the url by heart apparently) and sure enough, a 3.5 scale earthquake reported in Berkley. 'Oh a 3.5' they say. 'nothing worth talking about' they all say. - Freaks!
Eventually someone noticed me cowering under my desk, trying to call home to get the children out of the front garden and away from the impending tsunami. They enticed me out after some time, with a bar of chocolate and a miniature bottle of gin (which I keep in my handbag for such emergencies). Much hilarity ensued. It won't be that when the roof falls in and I'm the only one with spare batteries, toilet paper and a wind up radio. Oh no, they'll all want to be my friend then!
Sitting at my desk working on a proposal, type type type, half listening to the meeting on the other side of the suspended glass partition screen, type type type, it's Friday, wonder if we'll go boogyboarding again tomorrow, type type type, is that two graphic recorders or one, type type type - WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??? I turn towards the meeting to see the partition screen visibly shake - WAS THAT WHAT I THINK IT WAS?
Yup, an earthquake!!! No shit!
Now at this point it gets a little surreal. Everyone else in true California techno hippy freak style goes 'wow' lets check - and sit down at their computers! They all log onto the earthquake monitoring site (they all know the url by heart apparently) and sure enough, a 3.5 scale earthquake reported in Berkley. 'Oh a 3.5' they say. 'nothing worth talking about' they all say. - Freaks!
Eventually someone noticed me cowering under my desk, trying to call home to get the children out of the front garden and away from the impending tsunami. They enticed me out after some time, with a bar of chocolate and a miniature bottle of gin (which I keep in my handbag for such emergencies). Much hilarity ensued. It won't be that when the roof falls in and I'm the only one with spare batteries, toilet paper and a wind up radio. Oh no, they'll all want to be my friend then!
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
valentines day USA style
As we live in the birthplace of the Hallmark card, 'important' days, like Valentines day take on a whole new perspective.
As well as being the day when adults give something they dont want to give to someone who doesnt really want to receive it. This is also the day when every child is encouraged to give meaningless, thoughtless card/note/candy items to everyone in their class. They must give to everyone or no-one, as Charlie Brown days are officially banned in America it seems.
This results in 8 year old stressing for weeks because she cant work out how to avoid giving anything to any boys but still manage to keep her friends happy. (One giant 'to my class' card did the trick). This makes me incredibly happy, for I know one day she may be working out how to give her mates nothing and keep the boys happy!
Now, when you get to 8pm on the 13th of Feb and your 5 year old realises he's failed to make 20 classmate cards plus one each for teachers, office staff, principal and janitor the opportunity for a major meltdown occurs. As luck would have it supermom managed to conjure up 25 heart shaped cookies by 9pm. And so saved the day. (Its amazing what you can do with 2 eggs, a box of nesquick, a bag of sugar and a piece of furniture from a Lil Bratz roller skating loungin' area. - creativity is my middle name).
I was rewarded when said 5 year old stuffed a pink and red lovehearts napkin-wrapped parcel into my handbag, as I left for work. 'Dont open it until you get to work mom, it;s a valentines surprise'. Aww bless, so I dont open it. Get to 11 oclock, pour my coffee, unwrap my anticipated heart shaped chocolate truffle type treat, only to find a bashed and soggy box of raisins left over from yesterdays lunchbox. Just like hid dad on the present choosing front then. Boys, ya gotta luv em.
My parking problems are resolved. I park one block down and pay $10 a day, no negotiations. It makes life a little easier, although sadly a little duller too. And I have shifted to wearing my patent leather platforms on wet days. Just to be safe.
As well as being the day when adults give something they dont want to give to someone who doesnt really want to receive it. This is also the day when every child is encouraged to give meaningless, thoughtless card/note/candy items to everyone in their class. They must give to everyone or no-one, as Charlie Brown days are officially banned in America it seems.
This results in 8 year old stressing for weeks because she cant work out how to avoid giving anything to any boys but still manage to keep her friends happy. (One giant 'to my class' card did the trick). This makes me incredibly happy, for I know one day she may be working out how to give her mates nothing and keep the boys happy!
Now, when you get to 8pm on the 13th of Feb and your 5 year old realises he's failed to make 20 classmate cards plus one each for teachers, office staff, principal and janitor the opportunity for a major meltdown occurs. As luck would have it supermom managed to conjure up 25 heart shaped cookies by 9pm. And so saved the day. (Its amazing what you can do with 2 eggs, a box of nesquick, a bag of sugar and a piece of furniture from a Lil Bratz roller skating loungin' area. - creativity is my middle name).
I was rewarded when said 5 year old stuffed a pink and red lovehearts napkin-wrapped parcel into my handbag, as I left for work. 'Dont open it until you get to work mom, it;s a valentines surprise'. Aww bless, so I dont open it. Get to 11 oclock, pour my coffee, unwrap my anticipated heart shaped chocolate truffle type treat, only to find a bashed and soggy box of raisins left over from yesterdays lunchbox. Just like hid dad on the present choosing front then. Boys, ya gotta luv em.
My parking problems are resolved. I park one block down and pay $10 a day, no negotiations. It makes life a little easier, although sadly a little duller too. And I have shifted to wearing my patent leather platforms on wet days. Just to be safe.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
I believe I am at war.
Car park boy chanced for $15 again today.
I refused and gave him a disparaging look.
In the morning it rained.
I was wearing cream suede boots.
I live in California so I had no spray protector on my cream suede boots.
I skipped lunch to protect my cream suede boots from the wet.
When I went to the parking lot, my car was parked in a big big puddle.
The valet guy didn't offer to drive it out for me.
The keys were in the visor already.
It would seem revenge is a dish best served wet.
I refused and gave him a disparaging look.
In the morning it rained.
I was wearing cream suede boots.
I live in California so I had no spray protector on my cream suede boots.
I skipped lunch to protect my cream suede boots from the wet.
When I went to the parking lot, my car was parked in a big big puddle.
The valet guy didn't offer to drive it out for me.
The keys were in the visor already.
It would seem revenge is a dish best served wet.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
location location
So right now I work in San Francisco proper having left Silicon-Valley-Of-The-Geek behind for the timebeing.
Not that I didn't enjoy my time there - I did. But those short sleeved shirts and 1985 trainers (mid decade is never a good year for fashion in my opinion) were becoming a tad overwhelming. So now I commute to SOMA which has it's own colourful residents, still in odd shirts and 1980's trainers - but the SOMA residents don't just live there, they live right there - on the street (and in the doorways and the dumpsters) . These locals make those trainers seem so much more funky though - funny that. I don't really mind navigating the local residents of SOMA, it takes me back to my London days when I'd dodge trucks drivers and butchers on my way through Smithfield market of a morning. Flashback to the morning I cut my ankle tripping over a pigs foot in a pair of impractically high mary-jane's. (I was wearing the mj's, not the pigs foot). Oh the colourful life I've led!
So now I drive North instead of East, keeping the ocean on my left and being intimidated by the SUV's at the on ramps.
I've already found my own little favourite parking lot, right opposite the office and haven't got lost once yet. Although today I did accept that I was a little rusty on city driving when, having been momentarily distracted by a phone conversation, I found myself driving the wrong way up a one way street. Oops. In my defence, it was a pretty wide street. No harm done in the end, although I did have to end my call abruptly when the penny dropped.!! (Don't tell the husband, he'll confiscate my phone).
I was getting on quite well with the car lot guy as well, he's always nice and cheery and it makes a lass feel fairly safe on the mean streets when it's dark and your crossing a parking lot, to see a familiar face watching your back. It all went a little less rosy today unfortunately when he tried to pull a fast one on pricing. (Now those of you (Short) who are terribly British and nervous of talking about money, may want to stop reading at this point.) I arrived later than usual and commented on how full the lot was. That's when he informed me he'd already put his rate up to $20 as there was a big conference on up the street. I noticed at this stage that the sandwich board prices were indeed lick and stick vinyl and had been bumped up. Apparently this is the norm - all supply and demand and the American dream and all that. Having just renegotiated the block after my wrong-way-one-way incident, I'd no intentions of getting back in the car. I also had no intentions of stumping up 20 bucks because some fat-arse business man convention was on up the road, so resorted to some hard negotiations of my own. I politely pointed out that I'd been paying $12 all week (which is already $4 more than the lot 2 blocks down), and if car lot guy was going to pee me and his other regular customers off on fat-arse-convention days, he'd be poor and shivering and lonely when there was nowt going on but the usual drone of day to day life. He crumbled way too easily - a sure sign of weakness /chancer-ism. So I managed to haggle further and get a nice reduction on the monthly rate. (which I haven't actually commited to yet). I flounced off, feeling quietly superior about my fine-tuned bartering skills. Don't try to rip off this stoopid immigrant buster!
I did get a little anxious at home time though, wondering if my car would still be there, or if it had been keyed, or rented out to a vintage Air Jordan clad local resident as a daybed, or maybe if I'd be smelling wee all the way home if I dared turn on the heaters. Luckily none of these nasty surprises awaited. Although who knows - it's like being horrid to a waiter I suppose, you must never eat there again - EVER. (I'll still be parking in my usual lot though - it is Valet after all!)
Not that I didn't enjoy my time there - I did. But those short sleeved shirts and 1985 trainers (mid decade is never a good year for fashion in my opinion) were becoming a tad overwhelming. So now I commute to SOMA which has it's own colourful residents, still in odd shirts and 1980's trainers - but the SOMA residents don't just live there, they live right there - on the street (and in the doorways and the dumpsters) . These locals make those trainers seem so much more funky though - funny that. I don't really mind navigating the local residents of SOMA, it takes me back to my London days when I'd dodge trucks drivers and butchers on my way through Smithfield market of a morning. Flashback to the morning I cut my ankle tripping over a pigs foot in a pair of impractically high mary-jane's. (I was wearing the mj's, not the pigs foot). Oh the colourful life I've led!
So now I drive North instead of East, keeping the ocean on my left and being intimidated by the SUV's at the on ramps.
I've already found my own little favourite parking lot, right opposite the office and haven't got lost once yet. Although today I did accept that I was a little rusty on city driving when, having been momentarily distracted by a phone conversation, I found myself driving the wrong way up a one way street. Oops. In my defence, it was a pretty wide street. No harm done in the end, although I did have to end my call abruptly when the penny dropped.!! (Don't tell the husband, he'll confiscate my phone).
I was getting on quite well with the car lot guy as well, he's always nice and cheery and it makes a lass feel fairly safe on the mean streets when it's dark and your crossing a parking lot, to see a familiar face watching your back. It all went a little less rosy today unfortunately when he tried to pull a fast one on pricing. (Now those of you (Short) who are terribly British and nervous of talking about money, may want to stop reading at this point.) I arrived later than usual and commented on how full the lot was. That's when he informed me he'd already put his rate up to $20 as there was a big conference on up the street. I noticed at this stage that the sandwich board prices were indeed lick and stick vinyl and had been bumped up. Apparently this is the norm - all supply and demand and the American dream and all that. Having just renegotiated the block after my wrong-way-one-way incident, I'd no intentions of getting back in the car. I also had no intentions of stumping up 20 bucks because some fat-arse business man convention was on up the road, so resorted to some hard negotiations of my own. I politely pointed out that I'd been paying $12 all week (which is already $4 more than the lot 2 blocks down), and if car lot guy was going to pee me and his other regular customers off on fat-arse-convention days, he'd be poor and shivering and lonely when there was nowt going on but the usual drone of day to day life. He crumbled way too easily - a sure sign of weakness /chancer-ism. So I managed to haggle further and get a nice reduction on the monthly rate. (which I haven't actually commited to yet). I flounced off, feeling quietly superior about my fine-tuned bartering skills. Don't try to rip off this stoopid immigrant buster!
I did get a little anxious at home time though, wondering if my car would still be there, or if it had been keyed, or rented out to a vintage Air Jordan clad local resident as a daybed, or maybe if I'd be smelling wee all the way home if I dared turn on the heaters. Luckily none of these nasty surprises awaited. Although who knows - it's like being horrid to a waiter I suppose, you must never eat there again - EVER. (I'll still be parking in my usual lot though - it is Valet after all!)
Saturday, February 3, 2007
Dental x-rays.
Yep you definately got a lump there.
Yep its behind your nose.
No I don't know what it is either.
That'll be $245 please.
CHAH-CHING
Maybe you should see an orthodontic surgeon - just for a second opinion.
CHAH -CHING-CHAH-CHING-CHAH-CHING
Yep its behind your nose.
No I don't know what it is either.
That'll be $245 please.
CHAH-CHING
Maybe you should see an orthodontic surgeon - just for a second opinion.
CHAH -CHING-CHAH-CHING-CHAH-CHING
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)