Monday, September 24, 2007

la vie rêvée des mimes

Someone I wish I had seen perform live:

Read more here.

on a lighter note

It's such a beautiful day that I'm going to blow off work for the rest of the afternoon and go on a bike ride.

the score

Yesterday afternoon, I played tennis with Sultan and his roommate in the Presidio. It's been a few months since I've been on the courts, so I was a little rusty and didn't really feel like I had my game on. Plus we were rotating players since we were three, so sometimes, just after I finally felt warmed up, I had to sit down and watch Sultan and his roommate play, letting my heart rate come down, my blood settle and my muscles cool. And then a few minutes later I had to jump back in the game, and get geared up all over again. On and off isn't my favorite way to play. I'd rather be in it for the duration of the match, ready to serve and return serves, ready for forehands, backhands, volleys, smashes, lobs--whatever you want to send my way.

While I was out on the court, the term Love--both the term for scoring in tennis and the sensation of adoring and being adored--came to mind. It's a funny term to indicate the value of having scored no points. In other sports we say Zero. Nil. Nothing. A shut out. But in tennis Zero equals Love.

Someone else told me this weekend that he thought that love and hate are interchangeable, that they mean the same thing. It's strange to think that the word love has adopted so many opposing definitions. In the bedroom it can mean fulfillment, and on the court it can mean zero, and in some people's brains, it can represent so much pain.

Alexei once told me that love is the most beautiful thing.

Lately in my so-called lovelife, the word kind of represents the way I played tennis on Sunday. Feeling the rush of adrenaline, setting the endorphins free, playing to the point of exhaustion, and then all of a sudden stopping, and having to sit it out, waiting for my next turn, and in the meantime being left with Nothing. Nil. Zero.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

rockstar kitty

ghost kitty

message from the sidewalk


I saw the New Pornographers play at the Warfield last night. Too my good fortune, this was the second time I've seen them perform live. The first time was right after I got fired from my job in LA, so I had the night off and drove down to San Diego to see them play the Belly Up. My pal Florida and I strolled in casually around 9 pm, thinking there would be an opening band, and when we were paying for our tickets, I could hear the lyrics of The Bleeding Heart Show coming from inside the venue. Even though we missed a couple songs, the show was still amazing. Throughout the concert, fans yelled out their song requests and, one after another, the band played all of the crowd's favorites.

But there were a couple band members missing. Since she has a vibrant solo career, the uber-gifted Neko Case often does not tour with the band. So at the show in SD, the female vocals were performed by the group's keyboardist, who also has a lovely voice, though nothing like the distinctive pitches that this particular little redheaded rockstar can reach.

So I was delighted to see Neko walk out on stage when the band came on last night. I've seen Neko perform solo live, and I've seen the New Pornographers perform sans Neko, and now I've seen them perform all together. And it was a special treat. The music on its own can capture the hearts of the audience members, and get your blood pumping with the catchy rhythms and high energy, but Neko's vocals on their songs performed live will make this show stand out in my memory for years. I wish I could have been closer to the stage and then I would have truly lost myself in rock and roll fantasy.

Friday, September 14, 2007

deal breakers

What do we consider deal breakers when it comes to relationships? And not just love relationships, but friendships too? How many times can we forgive? How many times can we say that we understand before our own hearts start breaking?

What is the criteria for giving up on another person? When do we decide to completely let go? What is the last straw? How many chances do we give someone before we finally say goodbye [adieu]?

And if it's true that to err is human, then can we really blame another human being for being... human? Is it petty to write someone off because they make mistakes? What if it's not a mistake, but something beyond their control [society, politics, geography]? What if it's genetic? Something they're born with? Is he too tall? Too short? Smokes too much? Drinks too much? Is he too far away? Too poor? Too rich? Not smart enough? Speaks the wrong language? Too depressed? Too emotional? Not emotional enough? Too proud? Do we blame them? Or do we welcome the imperfection and love it [him]? And what happens when we can no longer accept the imperfection? Do we set the person free [free ourselves]?

Why does it take longer for your heart to release than your mind? Why does logic tell you one thing and your emotions another? Or is it that your heart never totally lets go?

When does it change inside? When does attraction suddenly become detachment? Why do we stop caring for something [someone] that once seemed so precious? Why do we break the deal?

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

if I was in Paris...

like my pal Lilia, I would go to the Théâtre du Châtelet and see Monkey: Journey to the West, the pop Opera written by Damon Albarn formerly of Blur and now of Gorillaz. But, since I just got back from Paris, I need to wait until (hopefully) the opera makes it stateside.

did you hear the one about Bush, Cheney and the priest?

"I would really like to see George W. Bush and Dick Cheney before I
die," whispered the priest.

"I'll see what I can do, Father" replied the nurse. The nurse sent the
request to the White House and waited for a response. Soon the word
arrived. Bush and Cheney would be delighted to visit the priest.

As they went to the hospital, Bush commented to Cheney "I don't know why the old priest wants to see us, but it will certainly help our images." Cheney couldn't help but agree.

When they arrived at the priest's room, the priest took Cheney's hand
in his right hand and Bush's hand in his left. There was silence and a
look of serenity on the old priest's face. Finally Vice President
Cheney spoke. "Father, of all the people you could have chosen, why
did you choose us to be with you as you near the end?"

The old priest slowly replied "I have always tried to pattern my life
after our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ."

"Amen" said Cheney. "Amen" said Bush.

The old priest continued... "He died between two lying thieves. I
would like to do the same."

Monday, September 10, 2007

roquefort, madrid, sweden

Here are the last uploads of pics from my European Vacation 2007:

Roquefort, Stockholm, Madrid

Stockholm and Moja


I feel so lucky to have so many amazing and inspiring and wonderful people in my life.

On Friday night, Sultan and Nigel met me at Tosca for a pre-birthday drink after I got off my shift. We put on some Frank Sinatra, Louis Prima and Maria Callas tunes on the jukebox and talked about long distance relationships. Having come up with no answers, we decided to get another drink at the Adler Museum. We all enjoyed the convivial vibe of that place. I hadn't been there for years. We continued our discussion on relationships, and basically came to the conclusion that it's better to take the risk and go for it, no matter what the costs, than to never know. At least I think that's what we decided. My memory is a little fuzzy.

Saturday morning I called Alexei. He laughed at practically everything I said. I don't think I was being particularly funny, I think he was simply happy to hear my voice, and was pleased that he was the first person to wish me a happy birthday. He said that he and his friends were going to go out and celebrate my birthday together with some cervezitas.

I went to the Giants v. Dodgers game on Saturday with my dad and Sheila and Karen. Sadly, the Giants lost and those damn Dodgers fans are so incredibly annoying in their royal blue jerseys and they have the nerve to be all cocky in our stadium. Needless to say, we lost miserably (well, we had one good inning). Not a triumphant way to start off my 37th year.

The rest of the day/night made up for it. Nora was in town performing the piece we collaborated on at ODC. Since she told me last minute, I didn't have time to squeeze in seeing the performance, however, I did get to attend the photo shoot/dress rehearsal. She has changed some of her choreography and also the way the film is projected. Her 70 minute solo inspired me and my friend Jen to pursue dance once again. She is so incredibly athletic and her body is ripped. But her choreography is so emotional and artistic that it's not just a "look what I can do" type of a show. Most people come out of her show very moved. I wish Nora was still living in SF so I could resume my classes with her!

Jen and I drove over to the Lower Haight to meet my mom, Angela, Sultan, Jayson, Estelle, Julie and Sheila at the Indian Oven for dinner. I've always loved that place and it's such a mellow, low-key, unpretentious (albeit HOT) place to have dinner. I'm so tired of these snobby overpriced restaurants. We toasted to celebrating life and feasted on tandoori and curries and drank a few bottles of Albarino with our meal.

Then it was off to Do Re Mi. I must say that the star of the evening was Sultan, who on the way over there said he was going along for the ride and would listen to the rest of us sing. But then we couldn't get the microphone out of his hands. He and Jen and Julie harmonized on "Endless Love." And he and Jayson serenaded the girls with the Backstreet Boys "As Long As You Love Me." I drunk dialed Maciej in the Philippines when we sang "99 Luftballoons." I regretted doing that the next morning. I wonder how expensive that call will be. It's funny how it seems like a good idea in the moment, and how I might not have done that sober.

Jen and I went for a final final at the karaoke bar in Japan Center. I met a Brazilian guy who looked like a French sailor. And a cute Japanese boy with blond hair named Yu. There was a group of 21 year olds who wished me a happy 24th birthday and I'm not sure if I should take offense to that or not! The bar stayed open until 2:45 am. Jen and I went back to my place and played with Cloud by the fireplace and I kept her up with my diarrhea of the mouth until 4:30 am.

On Sunday, we had a repeat of last year's brunch and tried to go to Zazie, but when we heard it was an hour wait for a table, ended up going next door to Bambino's once again. Jessica, Young, Sultan, Sheila, Jen and I had a fabulous brunch there by the way!

Later that afternoon, Jen and I rushed over to Fort Mason and the Magic Theater to meet Sarah and Martha for a preview of Bill Pullman's Expedition 6, about the space shuttle Columbia disaster and the astronauts who were stranded in the space station for 6 months. The play was an amalgam of news bytes that that were pieced together to form the narrative with an ensemble cast, live music and the use of low-flying trapezes to feign the effects of gravity. The Magic Theater provides such an intimate space for theater, the way the seats curve around the stage below. The way the factual news-like lines of dialogue were delivered offered a more psychological interpretation of their experience. We all commented on how surprised we were that we knew so little of what really happened with Expedition 6--the story buried under headlines about Shock and Awe and the war in Iraq.

How do I sum this up? I will sum it up as I began. When I went home that evening and snuggled up with my kitty cat, I thought about how lucky I am to have so many inspiring and wonderful and amazing friends in my life, and that I get to share so many fun and happy memories with them.

burns, burns, burns

The fire has spread to 62,000 acres. I spoke with my friend Stephanie a couple days ago. She lives in Fresno and said that the air quality there is so bad that they need to stay indoors and that she has trouble breathing normally, and that her little baby girl has been coughing. As of three hours ago, the fired is reported to have burned through close to 100 square miles in the Sierras.

I've read two articles that have blamed the fires on George Bush! Looks like I'm not the only one to blame all bad things on those evildoers.

Thursday, September 06, 2007


This morning when I woke up I thought I was in LA. The sunlight was a funny orange color, and the sky was a brownish grey. Since I have been chained to editing bays day and night lately and not listening the news, I had no idea that there have been wildfires in the Sierras, which has caused the smoggy conditions in SF.

28,000 acres are up in flames.

Let's hope it's contained soon.

This would also explain why I suddenly came down with pink eye this afternoon, which, according to several online health sites, is often caused by smog.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

i would if i could

I could write about how I didn't go to Burning Man this year.
I could write about how I feel a bit envious of the tired-looking people in the dusty RV's that I keep seeing rolling back into San Francisco.
I could write about the most excellent weekend I had here in SF, complete with biking and sunsets and picnics and dancing and hikes and ocean swims and parties.
I could write about the laugh attack I had when Lilia and I attempted to sing an Eagles medley while playing the conga drum and the guitar.
I could write about how I met Vikram Vij and Roland Passot at the Farmer's Market on Saturday.
I could write about the Melon Gazpacho soup I tried there, prepared by the cute chef from One Market.
I could write about how I have a tub of that soup in my refrigerator right now.
I could write about how my cat doesn't wake me up at 7 am anymore, and instead waits until I wake up and scratch her cheeks to start meowing.
I could write about how cute she is when she's napping.
I could write about the $516 I had to pay today to get my car fixed.
I could write about the three new cd's I bought at Amoeba on the way back from the garage.
I could write about how strange it is for me to see Dana King sitting at a desk, on the phone, in front of a computer, just like me, and not on television.
I could write about how I dyed my hair today, and that it's darker now.
I could write about a letter I sent, and one that I didn't.
I could write about the strange e-mail I received from a boy this morning.
I could write about how I'm going to turn 37 years old in a few days.
I could write about how time seems to fly by so quickly.

I could write something about all of these things and more, it's just that I don't really know what to say about them, or if they have meaning for you or for me. So I'll leave it at that.

Monday, September 03, 2007

what I did on Sunday

See #2.
Only it was Muir Beach, and it felt great!

what I did on Saturday

See #4.
At New Wave City!

enjoy being

Quote from the wall at Cafe Gratitude in the Inner Sunset:

We invite you to step inside and enjoy being someone who chooses, loving your life, adoring yourself, accepting the world, being generous and grateful everyday, and experience being provided for.