I took Husband to a Giants game today as a surprise. And I splurged on, as you can see, fabulous seats. Club box, section 207, Row D, seats 1 and 2. When we win the lottery these will be our season's tickets. Best seats I've ever had at a game.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Photo of the day: Independence Day
Happy Fortha July. What are you doing to celebrate? A picnic followed by fireworks? A BBQ with friends? Husband and I are being very American and going to a baseball game where we shall eat hot dogs and watch the Giants. A beautiful day in the sunshine at the most gorgeous ballpark in the US. I will, of course, be dressed like Betsy Ross.
Happy Fortha July. What are you doing to celebrate? A picnic followed by fireworks? A BBQ with friends? Husband and I are being very American and going to a baseball game where we shall eat hot dogs and watch the Giants. A beautiful day in the sunshine at the most gorgeous ballpark in the US. I will, of course, be dressed like Betsy Ross.
Friday, July 03, 2009
Stream of Unconsciousness
I'm going through a pretty severe insomnia phase and, of course, I'm all out of Ambien. Thanks to the wonders of mail-order pharmacies and tight-fisted insurance companies they won't even begin to process my refill until the 15th. Give it another week for processing and shipping and I'm looking at three more weeks of no sleep. I'm getting about 3 or 4 hours a night, so it's not a total loss. But it's not enough and it's catching up to me.
I'm getting into that phase where the sillies take over. Everything is vaguely hilarious. I feel almost drunk because I'm so goofy and, occasionally, light headed. I kind of like it. Like getting high without all that nasty breaking the law crap. It's actually quite fun, in a completely unhealthy, entirely dysfunctional way. I smile a lot. I'm giddy. God help us, I sing. Today I found myself in the middle of kitten duty singing the theme to "The Muppet Show" to a kitten, only to look up and see the other volunteers staring at me in bemused horror and moving their chairs back ever so slightly. Luckily the kittens didn't seem to mind it. But that self-censoring chip, never very effective in my case anyway, is practically non-existent. Poor Husband. There's no telling what I might do if he takes me out in public this weekend. (Which he will...Giants game on the 4th. Yay!) I don't mean I'm going to rip my shirt off and yell "Do me, Lincecum!" Because, well, eww. But I do tend to say things without thinking even when I do get enough sleep.
Hell, when he introduced me to his boss a few months ago the first thing I said to him was "Hi, do I have to kiss your ass?" I mean what kind of woman says that to her husband's boss? Oh yeah, me.
I don't know how he puts up with me.
I'm going through a pretty severe insomnia phase and, of course, I'm all out of Ambien. Thanks to the wonders of mail-order pharmacies and tight-fisted insurance companies they won't even begin to process my refill until the 15th. Give it another week for processing and shipping and I'm looking at three more weeks of no sleep. I'm getting about 3 or 4 hours a night, so it's not a total loss. But it's not enough and it's catching up to me.
I'm getting into that phase where the sillies take over. Everything is vaguely hilarious. I feel almost drunk because I'm so goofy and, occasionally, light headed. I kind of like it. Like getting high without all that nasty breaking the law crap. It's actually quite fun, in a completely unhealthy, entirely dysfunctional way. I smile a lot. I'm giddy. God help us, I sing. Today I found myself in the middle of kitten duty singing the theme to "The Muppet Show" to a kitten, only to look up and see the other volunteers staring at me in bemused horror and moving their chairs back ever so slightly. Luckily the kittens didn't seem to mind it. But that self-censoring chip, never very effective in my case anyway, is practically non-existent. Poor Husband. There's no telling what I might do if he takes me out in public this weekend. (Which he will...Giants game on the 4th. Yay!) I don't mean I'm going to rip my shirt off and yell "Do me, Lincecum!" Because, well, eww. But I do tend to say things without thinking even when I do get enough sleep.
Hell, when he introduced me to his boss a few months ago the first thing I said to him was "Hi, do I have to kiss your ass?" I mean what kind of woman says that to her husband's boss? Oh yeah, me.
I don't know how he puts up with me.
Photo of the day: The Music Office
Not ours, but the one at the radio station. It's about the size of a small bathroom and decorated mostly in stickers from bands and labels around the world. Highly colorful chaos, really. It can only hold one person comfortably. Two if you don't mind having to move out of the way a lot. Three and the walls start to close in and the air gets sucked out of the room. But we love it.
Not ours, but the one at the radio station. It's about the size of a small bathroom and decorated mostly in stickers from bands and labels around the world. Highly colorful chaos, really. It can only hold one person comfortably. Two if you don't mind having to move out of the way a lot. Three and the walls start to close in and the air gets sucked out of the room. But we love it.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
Photo of the day: Bayside
Sometimes you need to appreciate a photo not for its quality, nor even its subject, but what it represents. This represents, to me, what's best about a summer day in the Bay Area. Blue sky. Birds on the bay. Seeing the east bay hills from the peninsula. And, just to the right of where I focused, one tiny sailboat out for a day on the bay. It was clear and warm. The path was full of people walking dogs, runners dripping sweat, and little kids tossing bits of stale bread to the ducks. And this is why I love where I live.
Sometimes you need to appreciate a photo not for its quality, nor even its subject, but what it represents. This represents, to me, what's best about a summer day in the Bay Area. Blue sky. Birds on the bay. Seeing the east bay hills from the peninsula. And, just to the right of where I focused, one tiny sailboat out for a day on the bay. It was clear and warm. The path was full of people walking dogs, runners dripping sweat, and little kids tossing bits of stale bread to the ducks. And this is why I love where I live.
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Photo of the day: Abstract in Concrete and Rust
I have no wish to analyze what draws my photographer's eye to things like broken fences and rusty gates. But I'm odd that way. Faced with a beautiful landscape or a falling-down barn, I tend to go to the barn. In my photographic history I've photographed doorknobs when others were shooting garden shots, and captured dented bumpers while the rest of the crows was looking at a dramatic sunset.
This particular shot looks to me like some weird abstract sculptural piece that would cost $75,000 and stand on a platform in your local MOMA and make people spout twaddle like "existential" and "the formless void."
But really, it's a piece of rusty metal sitting on a broken concrete slab.
I have no wish to analyze what draws my photographer's eye to things like broken fences and rusty gates. But I'm odd that way. Faced with a beautiful landscape or a falling-down barn, I tend to go to the barn. In my photographic history I've photographed doorknobs when others were shooting garden shots, and captured dented bumpers while the rest of the crows was looking at a dramatic sunset.
This particular shot looks to me like some weird abstract sculptural piece that would cost $75,000 and stand on a platform in your local MOMA and make people spout twaddle like "existential" and "the formless void."
But really, it's a piece of rusty metal sitting on a broken concrete slab.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Well Crap
A federal advisory panel has recommended a ban on Vicodin and Percocet. Oh goodie. The ban was suggested because of possible liver damage due to these drugs containing Acetaminophen. According to the NYT article, more than 400 people die every year from overdoses. So Tylenol, which is the acetaminophen king, can still be bought over-the-counter and taken indiscriminately. But Vicodin, frequently used to treat chronic pain (like mine) will be banned. So not happy.
Whatever happened to personal responsibility? Yes, I know you can overdose from this. That's why I always take a half a pill first and only take the second half of the Vicodin if I'm still in pain. I've been doing this for years and haven't developed an addiction or a liver problem. I know this because my doctor, who prescribes the Vicodin, insists on a complete liver screening every six months. And while I'm sorry for the 400 people who overdose, what about the millions of us who haven't and aren't likely to? We are to be denied a proven painkiller that we take responsibly because some idiot takes a Vicodin and washes it down with 20 Tylenol? When pain is a daily part of your life, you learn to live with it. But it helps to have something like Vicodin for those days where you hurt so bad you can barely get out of bed. These drugs already require a prescription, which comes with thorough warnings about addiction, side-effects, and dangerous drug interactions. But apparently I'm too stupid to take care of myself and need the government to spare my from my own idiocy and deny me a drug that helps make my life possible. It seems like a very tiny number of people who take Vicodin or Percocet end up in the ER but we're all being penalized. I find it unfair and ridiculous. We're grown ups here, folks, let us talk to our doctors and take our own risks.
A federal advisory panel has recommended a ban on Vicodin and Percocet. Oh goodie. The ban was suggested because of possible liver damage due to these drugs containing Acetaminophen. According to the NYT article, more than 400 people die every year from overdoses. So Tylenol, which is the acetaminophen king, can still be bought over-the-counter and taken indiscriminately. But Vicodin, frequently used to treat chronic pain (like mine) will be banned. So not happy.
Whatever happened to personal responsibility? Yes, I know you can overdose from this. That's why I always take a half a pill first and only take the second half of the Vicodin if I'm still in pain. I've been doing this for years and haven't developed an addiction or a liver problem. I know this because my doctor, who prescribes the Vicodin, insists on a complete liver screening every six months. And while I'm sorry for the 400 people who overdose, what about the millions of us who haven't and aren't likely to? We are to be denied a proven painkiller that we take responsibly because some idiot takes a Vicodin and washes it down with 20 Tylenol? When pain is a daily part of your life, you learn to live with it. But it helps to have something like Vicodin for those days where you hurt so bad you can barely get out of bed. These drugs already require a prescription, which comes with thorough warnings about addiction, side-effects, and dangerous drug interactions. But apparently I'm too stupid to take care of myself and need the government to spare my from my own idiocy and deny me a drug that helps make my life possible. It seems like a very tiny number of people who take Vicodin or Percocet end up in the ER but we're all being penalized. I find it unfair and ridiculous. We're grown ups here, folks, let us talk to our doctors and take our own risks.
The Music Instinct
Husband and I are halfway through a fascinating PBS program called The Music Instinct: Science & Song. It's a fascinating look at how our brains respond to music. What is genetic and what is inherited?
As a world music DJ, I was especially intrigued at the role that culture plays in our musical life. There was a wonderful singer from Pakistan, I believe, and another from Tibet. They discussed how Asian music has a different tonal scale than Western music and, because of this, often sounds "out of tune" to Western ears. I was also fascinated by them playing piano music to villagers in Cameroon who had no previous exposure to European classical music before and how they responded emotionally to the tunes by categorizing each piece as "happy," "sad," or "scary." If you have a chance to check it out, I highly recommend it.
I'm hoping they get to why people respond to different styles of music. Why do I love world music but hate death metal? Why does Husband play jazz and not hip-hop? My siblings and I have very different tastes in music and yet we all grew up with the same records on our parents stereo. So why do I turn to Django Reinhardt and my sister to the Rolling Stones?
Husband and I are halfway through a fascinating PBS program called The Music Instinct: Science & Song. It's a fascinating look at how our brains respond to music. What is genetic and what is inherited?
As a world music DJ, I was especially intrigued at the role that culture plays in our musical life. There was a wonderful singer from Pakistan, I believe, and another from Tibet. They discussed how Asian music has a different tonal scale than Western music and, because of this, often sounds "out of tune" to Western ears. I was also fascinated by them playing piano music to villagers in Cameroon who had no previous exposure to European classical music before and how they responded emotionally to the tunes by categorizing each piece as "happy," "sad," or "scary." If you have a chance to check it out, I highly recommend it.
I'm hoping they get to why people respond to different styles of music. Why do I love world music but hate death metal? Why does Husband play jazz and not hip-hop? My siblings and I have very different tastes in music and yet we all grew up with the same records on our parents stereo. So why do I turn to Django Reinhardt and my sister to the Rolling Stones?
Monday, June 29, 2009
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