This is what talent looks like

Another reason why my coworkers rock

...for introducing me to this:

And they wonder why women struggle to be taken seriously....

“You know what? I am actually not that much into voting. I think it’s kind of crazy that a woman is running because I think that women deal with a lot of emotions and menopause and PMS and stuff. Like, I’m so moody all the time, I know I couldn’t be able to run a country, because I would be crying one day and yelling at people the next day, you know?”

-Brooke Hogan (on Hillary Clinton's bid to be a presidential candidate)

Only in America

Not even our lawn mowers are safe anymore.

Lawn Mower Killer

(*WARNING: Image may be disturbing to some viewers.)

Straight from the sailor's mouth

No matter how old you are, it will always bother your mom if you use bad words.

This morning while having a lovely phone conversation with Mama Wanderlust, I was being repeatedly dive-bombed for no reason whatsoever by a rather rude fly that had wandered into the house like he owned the place. While in the midst of discussing plants and my knack for murdering them, I suddenly can't take the assault from Beelzebub the fly anymore, and I shriek, "THIS FUCKING FLY IS DRIVING ME CRAZY!"

Dead silence on the other end of the phone.

I laugh awkwardly and apologize, and am reminded of the time when I was about seven and informed Mark rather loudly that he was a "bastard", with Mom standing right there. The two of them gave me matching looks of surprise, and Mom said, "What did you say?" I wasn't exactly sure at the time just what that word meant or where I'd heard it, other than it wasn't unlike something one would gather from the stream of pseudo-obscenities spewed by Yosemite Sam. The mortification I felt when I realized that this seemingly innocuous word was an actual curse word - not of the fake, cartoon variety - was enough to make me feel like a terrific shame of a daughter. Now, twenty-plus years older and very well-versed in the use of expletives, I kind of feel that way all over again.

There's a moment of awkwardness on the phone as Mom recovers from the searing f-bomb that has assailed her poor, unexpecting ear, and I make a pitiful attempt to return to talk of plants, but it's too late - the damage has been done. I have shamed my mother yet again.

Hours later, the fucking fly is still hanging about the house - I think he's fixing himself a cup of coffee right now.

Be my muse - yeah, I dig that

Thank you, Andrew. And yes, you are the barrier - er, I mean gateway - to my happiness.

Words of motivation

The 24-hour fitness trainer told me tonight that I'm in "reasonably decent" shape. This was when I dropped my dumbbell on his face. Repeatedly.

The 43rd President of the U.S.

The man who should have been President shares some more insight on the energy crisis and what we can do to help...

practicing gratitude

so tonight in the Church of Oprah (of which I am an unabashed member, and may her Holiness strike you down with her microphone if you speak ill against me for it), I was taught to have gratitude and make note of five things every day that I am grateful for. So, here you are...

I AM GRATEFUL FOR:

1. the French (It IS Bastille Day, after all!) - for their lovely language that I so desperately want to know, their butter croissants that kept me (blissfully) alive on my travels, their brilliance with wine-making and the many joys it has brought to my wino life, their warm hospitality whenever I have visited their country, and their good genes from which have come many god-like creatures who make this world a more beautiful place! See: Melvil Poupaud


2. Page France - (another French reference, I know, but NOT intentional) for giving me little-girl goosebumps from your songs, and for being so goddamn repeatable.
3. the Internet - without which I would be lost, a mere shadow of myself - and without e-mail and networking sites, I would quite possibly have no friends because I, Master of Communications, am a not-so-good communicator.
4. San Francisco - for coming to my rescue when I needed you.
5. popcorn shrimp - just because it tastes good.

coffee and cigarettes

i gave up coffee and cigarettes
i hate to say it hasn't helped me yet
i thought my problems would just dissipate
and all my pain would be in yesterday

i poured my booze all down the kitchen drain
and watched my bad habits get flushed away
i thought that that would keep my head on straight
and all my pain would be in yesterday

but it's true
i'm still blue
but i finally know what to do
i must quit
i must quit...you

-michelle featherstone

Uh-huh

Early, foggy San Francisco morning. Trickling fountain at my feet. The rush of traffic breaking the calm. Hit play on the Ipod...and all was right with the world.

June - in review

In retrospect, the month of June consisted of three monumentally embarrassing moments, one daring move that paid off, and the best weekend of the year thus far.

Over the course of those 30 days, I reconnected with several old friends and made several new ones (may have even lost a couple, too); nearly killed a person with a golf ball (don't ask); nearly killed myself playing tennis (no really, don't ask); got my hair done for $235 - only to have it look slightly different than it did before (wtf?!); went to a Giants game that I can tell you absolutely nothing about (I think they lost?); tried "sipping tequila" ('twas surprisingly good) and shooting Jameson (not quite so good); had more than one memorable American Beauty moment (i.e., plastic bag scene); smoked on a hookah for the first time (mmm...watermelon); was moved to tears in a symphony (twice); booked a flight to my beloved London town after nearly three years of being away (come September, woo hoo!); witnessed the debauchery and exhibitionism of Pride Weekend (somewhat frightening, and yet oddly refreshing, too); did "the right thing" twice (and was surprised by how good it felt); and took pause more than once to say to myself, "Remember this moment."

All things considered, I'd say it was, in fact, a very memorable month.