MayMoonShine (on! and on! and on!)

Restoration Hardware is a Front!

2008-11-11T16:10:00.000-08:00

You know that store, Restoration Hardware? It sells very cool and overpriced drawer pulls and fancy towel hooks? Well, I guess they sell cool electronic things, too, like this awesome walkie talkie pen.

I was looking at it, thinking what a cute gift it would be for the Husband, except we are either always together or too far away for it to work. But if we had a son, and he was 4 or 5 (since they are tech savvy at young ages these days), it would be the cutest Father's Day gift in the world! And the daydream goes on in this manner....

Until I scroll down. And try so hard not to crack up in the office.

Sliding Down the Ladder of Success

2007-09-18T15:01:00.000-07:00

My boss has been on jury duty and asked me at the last minute, if I could drive to Sacramento today to take over his client consultations. I LOVE doing client consults so I did a quick rolodex flip in my brain, saw no pressing issues on my agenda, and immediately said, "yes." I expected a long drive to and from, which I decided to view as refreshingly solitary rather than flat, hot and boring. I expected a few client meetings, resulting in some new cases and the usual underappreciation by my boss. When I looked at his schedule I saw that the day would be packed, morning to evening. No problem-o!

I left home 2 1/2 hours early so I could get to our Sacramento office with some extra time to settle in and prepare myself. It was not to be so. The 8 minute drive from my house to the freeway took 39 minutes because the San Mateo Bridge is broken/on fire/blocked by spilled concrete/jammed and basically, entirely shut down. I was starving, I had to pee, I was running late. I called my first client and set our appointment back a bit. By the time I finally got to Sacramento, having diligently followed my MapQuest directions, I realized that I was driving away from downtown and towards fields. Our office is not in the fields. I drove in a huge circle, finally realized I could just ask someone for directions, did so and made a u-turn and drove in a huge circle the other way. I ended up back where I started, when I stopped at a gas station because that's where all the cartographers gather, of course.

Turns out the High Street Bridge is closed. Uh huh. Lovely. So I was given an alternate set of directions, which finally took me downtown, and I was so late by this time that my first (rescheduled) client was sitting there waiting with my second client. I did a round of apologies and explanations, took the first client into the office, and got started. I was a bit harried from traveling and stressed about being late and I kept dropping my pen and papers as I was settling in.

As we discussed his case, I began to fidget with my boss' adjustable chair. The left arm rest was perfectly aligned but the right arm rest was far too low. I looked my client in the eye, continued our conversation and felt along the right side of the chair. Where there is usually a knob to adjust arm rest height was nothing. I leaned to the right a bit and reached lower. Aha! I hit upon a lever, and confidently pulled it up. As I did so, I heard the sound of air releasing and my seat steadily dropped several inches until I was barely chest level with the desk.

All this time I was talking case management strategies with the client, making eye contact and trying to impress him with our firm's professionalism. Sitting at a big boy's desk like a munchkin. And I dared not re-adjust my seat height as it would simply bring more attention to my faux pas. Instead, I pretended I was perfectly comfortable peering up at my notes and the client appeared unfazed. Inside, I was dying to laugh. So much of my life lately is about rearranging myself and trying to adjust to unexpected situations. It was so nice to get to do that in a way that allows me to laugh at myself.

Can I get some advice?

2007-07-25T10:58:00.000-07:00

I was working on a documentary/oral family history about my grandmother's life (in short, she was engaged at 12 in Iran, had an arranged marriage a few years later, spoke 4 languages, and in many ways is a very modern woman who now lives in the U.S.).

I have some film footage already because I was desperate to record whatever I could before Alzheimer's got the best of her. Now she's had a stroke, can barely speak, and the memory loss is greater. :( I'm heartbroken, and I've since given up on the project.

But now I'm thinking about how it would be a nice tribute to her. But what do I do now? I don't have enough footage to create my documentary. Do I change it to a documentary about my trying to make this film about my grandmother and what she is dealing with at the end of her life? Do I make it a documentary about the various Persian Jewish women in my life, with my grandmother being one of them? That seems kind of directionless and I'm still in love with the idea of focusing on her.

I'm worried about disrespecting her because in Persian culture you do not share your moments of weakness with the world. She had a lot of pride and I know her dignity was always important to her. So I think she would not want to be seen this way. On the other hand, she has always been interested in sharing what she knows and what she has lived.

Anal-Retentives of the World, Unite and Take Over!

2007-06-26T16:28:00.000-07:00

Morrissey had his thing for shoplifters, I have my thing for office supplies, and perhaps a confluence of the two would be shoplifting office supplies. Minor office supply cabinet pilfering aside (and really, it's barely a thing, maybe a highlighter pen here and there on my way to a field meeting, which I later put in my purse and forget to return to the office stash- though I admit I find binder clips fascinatingly tempting . . . but that doesn't mean one should assume I lay my sticky fingers on them for non-work purposes, ahem), I get a certain joy in buying office supplies.

Okay, I get a certain joy in simply perusing the meticulous aisles of an office supply store, especially independently owned establishments that also carry a lot of caligraphy and art supplies, neither of which I have any use for, and Japanese stationary stores, with their variety of colored filing folders and colored notebooks and erasers in the shapes of hamburgers or maki rolls that send me into an over-stimulated, mouth-gaping trance. I have a love for things I do not need, and even after considering how I can find a way to need the object in order to justify it's purchase ("Hmmm...this graph lined notebook would be perfect for trigonometry class, but I don't take trigonometry class . . . But!! I could use it to practice perfecting my Hebrew script, each letter perfectly spaced, height and width . . . like Jewish serial killer handwriting . . ."), still do not need.

But the fantasy of a streamlined, organized life lures me in, so I am forever struggling with the inclination to buy versus the inclination not to add to my clutter, which, more than separation of Church and State, is the quintessential American struggle. And which is ironic, since the appeal of the stationary and office supplies, which add to my clutter, is the promise of a more organized, birthday-remembering, filing system wizard, everything-has-it's-place-and-is-exactly-there, Me.

But! There is nothing wrong with looking, right? And I found my new favorite place to peek. Under "Shop by Product," they actually list a category entitled "Life Organization" (cue angels singing). They sell punctuated page marks! What the hell are those?! Something I've never thought of in my life but suddenly am very desirous of, for Lord only knows what purpose. It's not only full of pretty office supplies, but it has all these great articles about getting organized that I plan to print out, read, and file away right on top of that mountain of paper on my desk.

Might as well start talking to myself, that way I'm guaranteed an audience.

2007-06-20T11:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, Mr. Hottie and I were doing some shopping at Trader Joe's. We were meandering along each aisle, and when we reached the dried fruits and nuts (I feel like there should be a joke there, but nothing comes to mind just yet. Probably for the best.) I faced the shelves and commented, "I love cashews but I can't buy them because I never stop eating them." The inventory clerk who was standing next to me, restocking the dried peaches, paused and slowly turned to look at me, and said, "Uhh.....Oh."

Puzzled, I turned to the my right, looking for Mr. Hottie, who was nowhere to be found! I had inadvertently been talking to myself (Don't you hate when that happens, and doesn't it seem to happen most often in grocery stores?). I realized how strange my cashew nut announcement must have seemed in the absence of my intended audience, so I laughed and told the clerk that I was talking to my friend, who must have headed in another direction. He laughed in relief, and I said, "Oh, you must have thought that I just make random announcements in the grocery aisles!" We contemplated a visit to the dairy refrigerator, where I would stare straight ahead at the milk and announce, "I like the organic milk, but I never seem to finish it before the expiry date" and off to the sauces aisle where he would share his feelings on stocking glass jars.

For the Morning Lazies

2007-06-13T15:29:00.000-07:00

I think I need this little guy.

Hearsay, Relevance, and Business Records

2007-05-21T16:17:00.000-07:00

Well, after a hellish couple of months and some crazy interactions with my unprofessional boss who took his vacation while we had a couple of cases up for trial....I had my first trial today. I wasn't lead counsel, so I didn't present the opening argument, or ask the witness questions, or present the evidence, but I did most of the work and all of the research that lay the foundation for our argument. My crazy, newly-tanned boss, who just got back this weekend, wasn't even familiar with the underlying case or any of the case law that set precedent until two days ago, when he read my summaries.

Anyways, while it was not fun having to prep for trial with neither the proper support staff nor guidance, not to mention a lack of proper research tools, presenting the actual trial was invigorating and gave me a shot of much-needed inspiration to continue in my profession. It turned out fine because my first time in trial, I didn't actually have much pressure to perform so I was able to concentrate on everything that was going on and review the proceedings with a critical eye. And it was validating to see my research, arguments, and words make up a strong case. I was also waiting for my first chance to exclaim, "Objection!" but nothing came up that I needed to object to.

The Secret

2007-04-20T11:15:00.000-07:00

A couple of months ago, I happened upon an Oprah episode that was actually an update show on a previous show she did on something called "The Secret." It seemed very interesting, and to have inspired quite a response from her viewers, so I watched and tried to figure out what this secret was. It turns out it is a movie, and a book, and an audio CD and a huge cash cow for those involved in disseminating it. ;) But it's also worth looking into, with a skeptical eye and an open mind.

The basic premise is that there is a universal "law of attraction" at work in the world, and the energy you emit directly influences the energy that returns to you. The friendly metaphysicians who bring you "The Secret" focus a bit too much on the direct impact of our thoughts, instead of explaining more that our thoughts drive our actions, and our actions are also key in bringing about the results we hope for in our lives.

I do recommend the movie, however, because there is value in any kind of philosophy that leads us to question our own approaches to our lives and our attitudes. There is also, in my opinion and my experience, some truth to what is being taught in "The Secret." It's interesting to me how spiritual truths are arrived at by different paths, and that common answer points to a universality that cannot be denied.

The Hasidim teach that G-d is a mirror, and the face with which you look upon G-d is the face with which G-d will look upon you. Not only your perception, but your actual life experiences are impacted by your attitude.

There is a story in Native American history that teaches the importance of recognizing the power of our thoughts as well. An Indian chief was talking to his tribe one night and told them there were two dogs inside his mind. One was a white dog who was good and courageous, the other a black dog who was vengeful and spiteful. He told the tribe the dogs were fighting to the death. A brave, not able to wait for the end of the story, asked, "Which one of them will win?" The chief responded, "The one I feed."

Rilke and Cookies

2007-04-13T14:57:00.000-07:00

"Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live with them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, some day far in time, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."

~ Rilke

I'll Tumble 4 Ya

2007-03-19T09:40:00.000-07:00

Last night, I literally tumbled into Hot Date. He came to pick me up for our second date of the weekend (and ever!) and when I came downstairs, I walked towards him to give him a hug, and I must have been over-excited or something because I tripped over nothing and landed in his chest. Very goofy.

"Love and marriage, love and marriage"

2007-03-12T21:48:00.000-07:00

"It is wrong to think that love comes from a long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity, and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created in years or even generations."
- Kahlil Gibran

i don't completely agree that the love that is developed over time is not a true love, but i understand that spiritual affinity he is describing and it is a very special type of love. i think because he came from a culture in which arranged marriages were the norm, he felt very strongly about the love that springs organically. i read some persian poetry and i've noticed that the idea of love that is celebrated in poetry and art is removed from the idea of the perfect marriage and mate, at least traditionally. persians are very romantic but more in the tragic sense, since what is good is what is good for the community, not what is good for the individual (very little notion of individuality, in fact), so marriage is based on pragmatic concerns and love either occupied other spheres or hopefully grew in the marriage.

What the World Needs Now

2007-03-09T09:07:00.000-08:00

Did you know about the International Day of Possibility? It's on June 21, 2007, and you can register your intention to ignore "thoughts of impossibility!" Ready, set, go!

G-d kissed her on the cheek and there she was

2007-03-05T10:41:00.000-08:00

Sometimes we make things too complicated. Since I am not a morning person and ignore my alarm until that point where I have no choice but to leap out of bed and rush to work, out of necessity, I have become very adept at a streamlined routine. I put on basic makeup, make an attempt at restraining the wild hair, and throw on coordinating professional pieces, which I purchased to match with several other pieces in my wardrobe.

Yes, it works, but my haphazard morning routine leaves a bit to be desired, and I sometimes wonder if my routine is too simple, if I should make more of an effort....Maybe I have part of the formula correct, though, as it pertains to simplicity, and have to approach it differently. Less harried, less frazzled, more calm, more polished. Simple.

I love this summation of Audrey Hepburn's style, by her son, Sean Ferrer:

"Style is a word we use often and for a multitude of purposes. In the case of my mother, Audrey Hepburn, it was the extension of an inner beauty held up by a life of discipline, respect for the other and hope in humanity. lf the lines were pure and elegant it was because she believed in the power of simplicity. lf there was timelessness it was because she believed in quality and if she still is an icon of style today it is because once she found her look she stayed with it throughout her life. She didn't go with the trends, didn't reinvent herself every season. She loved fashion but kept it as a tool to compliment her look.

In effect she used the same unspoken dress codes, if there are any, that an English Gentleman would use. Better always to be underdressed than overdressed. Don't attract attention.

Less is more. What is cheap, ends up being expensive and what is expensive ends being cheap; better to buy one good pair of shoes that will last and that fit (always a half size larger) than several pairs that won't last. Take good care of your clothes because they are the first impression of you. So when she appeared it didn't scream out "look at me" but "this is me . no better than you". And she truly believed in that. She didn't see herself as anything special or unusual. Which is why she worked so hard and was always pleasant and professional. Her style was just an extension of who she was. The person we all admired because down deep we knew that we saw was not just clever packaging but an honest and 100% genuine human being.

Billy Wilder, her great friend and extraordinary director, said it best, 'G-d kissed her on the cheek and there she was.'"

All the Hemispheres - Hafiz

2007-02-25T23:19:00.000-08:00

All the Hemispheres

Leave the familiar for a while.

Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season

Onto the meadows and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.

Make a new water-mark on your excitement

And love.

Like a blooming night flower,

Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness

And giving

Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence

Lie beside an equator

In your heart.

Greet Yourself

In your thousand other forms

As you mount the hidden tide and travel

Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven

Are sitting around a fire

Chatting

While stitching themselves together

Into the Great Circle inside of

You.

~Hafiz

Pillow Porn

2007-02-22T11:14:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I missed it again! My crazy city by the bay had a public pillow fight on Valentine's Day and sadly, I was elsewhere. I don't even remember where, so clearly it was not a hot date. Judging by the pictures I've posted (from the Laughing Squid website), I missed quite a partay. You probably did, too, loser. Man, next year in Justin Herman Plaza!

"I'm from the Bay where we hyphy"

2007-02-15T11:36:00.000-08:00

I thought I was over hip hop for a while, until something new and less materialistic, less misogynistic, less self-aggrandizing comes along in the scene. And that was okay with me, because I have enough Common, Mos Def, Roots, Black Eyed Peas, Missy and dancehall to listen and dance to for a bit, until the music scene shifts and comes back with something more inspired again.

But then I noticed props given to the Bay Area on slate.com for the best new style of hip hop. USA Today even gave the Bay some love. I was going to tell you all about Peter, Bjorn & John, but I got all distracted and stupid over hyphy, yarrimean?

Thank Goodness for Progress

2007-02-13T09:38:00.000-08:00

My housemate is doing Weight Watchers. She has lost about 9 pounds in 4 weeks or so, and while I am inspired, I don't know if it's worth getting up at 5:30 a.m. every morning. I need 8 hours of sleep, and I mean, how early can one go to bed, anyways? I vote for chubby and well-rested.

Weight Watchers has a point system and I don't fully understand it but my housemate chose the flex plan so she can eat whatever she wants as long as they are within the correct point parameters. Good thing it's 2007, not 1974, when she would have been encouraged to eat Hot Wrap Ups, Bean and Mushroom Salad, and a curious little delicacy called Fluffy Mackerel Pudding. No wonder people lost weight.

Definitely check out Wendy McClure's collection of Weight Watcher's recipe cards and clever comments. And stay away from the bong water.

This Explains It All

2007-02-12T11:58:00.000-08:00

According to extraordinary horoscope writer (is he an astrologist? I don't know, but he is certainly a writer) Rob Brezny, there have been obstructions interfering with my love flow! And I will remove them, but damn, homey, I wish you had informed me about this before. I don't know if I can handle the flood that will result from unplugging the stoppage, but Mr. Brezny promises a libidinous thrill.

"Happy Valentine Daze, Leo! I predict that more love will flow into your life in the future. Why? Because beginning now, you will remove the obstructions that have been interfering with that flow. That's not all. More love will flow into your life because you'll decide that you are actually very lovable--more lovable than you've previously acknowledged. That's not all. More love will flow into your life because you will vow to invoke in yourself a tremendous surge of willpower that will make you hungry to give love, to bestow blessings, and to extend favors. You'll derive deep pleasure, a real libidinous thrill, from radiating generous emotions in all directions."

P.S. Those who know me in real life might see the connection between this and the meaning of my name. Yay!

You Are Really Good

2007-02-12T11:28:00.000-08:00

Something really cute happened yesterday. My adorable (and when I say “adorable,” she really is and I really do adooooore this kid) 7 year old cousin brought her felt-tipped color pens and paper to a family event. Bored by the grown-ups, I started playing around with her pens. I love art supplies but unfortunately, my artistic abilities never graduated past the elementary school level. The height of my artistic collection took place in the 7^th and 8^th grades, when I created cartoon characters called Woogles or something like that, who had spiky hair (like Lisa Simpson mixed with Sideshow Bob, but this was before I ever saw the Simpsons) and lived on the beach near palm trees topped with fronds that looked exactly like their hair. The Woogles’ universe was populated by Airwalk and Quicksilver stickers in addition to other surf/skate logos and they lived carefree lives that had nothing to do with boring Ms. Kavalnes’ literature class that never kept up with my devouring of books (she finally began supplying me with books the class would get to 2 months later and impacted my romantic imagination by handing over a copy of “Jane Eyre”) and confusing Mr. Arney’s beginning Algebra class that I could never keep up with (“x?” When did “x” become a number?!).

Anyways, yesterday Miss Adorable came up to see what I was doodling, which was nothing in particular. I am the type that yearns to draw, paint, sing, play doumbek, and whose actual attempts are painfully, disappointingly light years away from the beauty I envision in my mind. But with Miss Adorable peering so curiously onto the page, I felt I owed it to her to make a real effort to draw something entertaining. So I asked her if she would like it if I drew her. I was a bit nervous, as Miss Adorable is already a Certified Perfectionist, and I did not want to insult her standards nor her ego with my miserable abilities. I very carefully drew two big brown eyes, to which Miss Adorable astutely observed, “You start with the eyes,” and I realized, yes I do, I always do that. I carefully added eyelashes, eyebrows, and nose, explaining that the little spaces I left open were nostrils. “I have round nostrils,” she said in agreeance with my illustration, and noted the differences between our nostrils. After we analyzed our respective nostrils, Miss Adorable became the first person ever, well, since the time my artwork was refrigerator-worthy, to say, with a hint of awe, “You’re a good drawer!”

If it’s possible to beam on the inside, I surely did. I tend to be the type that is deaf to compliments and magnifies insults. But this compliment welled up inside me and swirled around in ribbons of happiness. I remembered to demurely insist, “No, I can’t really draw.” “Noooo,” Miss Adorable insisted with the authority of someone who spends a good half of her academic life focused intently with a colored pen or pencil in hand, “You are good! You’re really good!”

I then remembered to insert two little lines for divets underneath the nose, and first I touched the corresponding indentation between her nose and upper lip to show her and then she touched it to check. I explained apologetically that I didn’t know what that was called (I've since educated myself) but she seemed happy enough to know I was being thorough in my replication. As I drew her lips in hot pink, Miss Adorable again praised my skills.

Filled with confidence, I tried to draw in each little baby tooth individually instead of making a line across and separating the teeth with little vertical lines. This over-confident attempt was a complete failure and I was feeling rather deflated because I had turned her gorgeous smile into a collection of Chiclets. Yet, Miss Adorable continued to express how impressed she was by my skills. I felt like I was the eager child hoping to please and Miss Adorable was the encouraging adult convinced she was witnessing genius potential. I finished the portrait with generous sweeps of brown curliques on her head (“I don’t have hair growing from the sides of my ears!” she commented as her sole critique. “That’s the hair from behind your ears,” I assured her). I asked Miss Adorable if she would like to help me draw her hair, and she consented, confidently drawing tighter curls across her face and shortening her forehead significantly. When she was done, I signed the portrait and handed it back to her, feeling prouder of this little drawing than I have felt of recent, more grown-up accomplishments. She assessed the portrait again, nodding her little head in satisfaction and saying as she walked away, “Yeah, you are really good.” And I sat there thinking, no matter how accomplished or how much money we make or how much we are loved, we all need to hear somebody say that to us sometimes.

2007-01-11T17:44:00.000-08:00

I am so busy at work and have taken up the lovely habit of waking up in the middle of the night thinking about cases, and waking up in the morning trying to convince myself that it will be a good day despite having to spend the bulk of my waking hours at the office.

Mr. Bossman really knows how to kill morale. It's amazing. I need to find the antidote to his extraodinary powers.

Anyways, I'm keeping afloat, knowing that all this will simply make my upcoming vacation even more delectable.

One-Upmanship

2006-12-26T10:25:00.000-08:00

This is what capitalism is all about.

The Purpose of Life

2006-12-20T11:06:00.000-08:00

It was a mega-weekend topped by a mega-wedding. I’m told the guest list totaled 600 people, most of us raucous Persian Jews lookin’ to partay. We don’t mess when it comes to weddings, which are the whole Purpose of Life according to the Persian Jew Handbook (you can check for yourself, it’s referred to as such on pages 1, 2, 3, 5-90, 101-126, 129 and 140).

When a baby is born, people say, “Ishallah beyaim aroosi’sh” which means, “G-d willing, we’ll come to his/her wedding.” This is a very nice blessing to give new Persian parents. If you want to be even nicer, you’ll go on and on about the wonderful qualities of the bride or groom G-d should bless the baby with. You know, ishallah a doctor or a lawyer, someone who loves G-d and Judaism and family. Repeat incessantly as the baby’s diaper is being changed.

When the kid is bar or bat mitzvahed, dance around the parents and wish for a happy wedding. Kiss the newly-pubescent child on both cheeks and tell him or her that you are looking forward to coming to the wedding. Do the same upon high school graduation, college graduation, and in cases where the aforementioned child has failed to snag the ring on the merry-go-round of life, upon graduate school graduation, now raising your open hands to the heavens and appealing to G-d to pleeeease make this wedding happen.

Once the now grown-up child, who is unfortunately but undeniably (tsk, tsk, already 26!!) becoming “torshideh” or pickled (aka a spinster) finally, finally decides to get married, the parents invite everyone they know in the world for the biggest bash they can imagine. If they have to refinance their house, they do it. If they have to sell their liver in China, they do it. They want to share this abundant joy with everyone they ever crossed paths with, because the Purpose of Life is finally being fulfilled! What occasion could be graced with more import and significance?

There is one. Only one. Refer to Persian Jew Handbook pages 1-140. There, you see it? The Birth of the First Born Child. As everyone is preparing for the mega-wedding, as they keep in mind that every task completed for the wedding party is a step towards realizing the Purpose of Life, they are not fully content. Whether this resistance to complete contentment is a Persian characteristic or a Jewish one, when you have Persian Jews, you have double the trouble. As wedding preparations are being made, every decent Persian Jew is saying to each other, to the parents, and most of all, to the beleaguered bride and groom, “Ishallah beyaim b’Brit Millah bachaht” which means “G-d willing, we’ll come to the Bris of your child.”

Now that you are properly schooled in the basics, as outlined in the Persian Jew Handbook, you don’t need me to tell you what they say when this child is finally born.

More Bellydance!

2006-11-22T12:23:00.000-08:00

I found this video recording that somebody made of the 2006 Tribal Fest in Sebastapol, Ca. He's obviously an amateur videographer and some of the performances are amateur as well (I have to hand it to anyone brave enough to perform in front of an audience!).

But it is so worth it to watch who I think is Mira Betz (and if I'm correct, it is kind of weird that I can recognize her by her belly and shimmies). Click on the tab that shows how far along the video is and fast-forward to 50:00 minutes.

At 57:42, Rachel Brice, an amazing tribal fusion bellydancer, performs a taqseem, or drum solo. These are some of my favorite dances to watch because the rhythmic interaction between the musician and dancer are highlighted.

And at 1:07 you can see the performance that came with a warning on the Tribal Fest program. I don't know this dancer's name, but she is a performance artist who actually pierced huge metal "wings" all the way down her back. I didn't know if I could bear to watch this after hearing the description of her temporary piercings but once she started to dance, I couldn't look away. She's really quite an amazing dancer.

A Less-Than-3 List (hint: it's on your keyboard)

2006-11-17T12:30:00.000-08:00

I've always found comfort in list-making. When I have so much to do I don't know how I will get it done, putting it down on paper at least relieves my mind of the necessity of mentally reciting everything that needs to be done lest I forget something. And the satisfaction of crossing something off is unparalleled.

Sometimes I just like to make lists of things I like. Years before I even got my period, I had a list of names for my future daughter and a list of names for my future son. Trust me, you don't want to know. I was 10 years old so you can imagine the lovely names.

In a moment mixed with creative inspiration and anal-retentiveness, I feel the need to list the bellydancers who I less-than-3 to watch perform. Contrary to the unfortunate (and sometimes true) stereotype of jiggly restaurant dancers taking money in their sequined bras, bellydance is actually a feminist art form that takes a lot of strength and mind-blowing muscle control. It was developed as a dance to honor and support women through pregnancy, with moves designed to build up the muscles used during labor. There are many styles and sub-genres of modern belly dance but as much as I love cabaret, I am partial to tribal fusion.

My Less-Than-3 List:

1. Jill Parker is the founder of Ultra Gypsy and one of the co-founders of American Tribal Style pioneers, fatchancebellydance. She does the most amazing snake arms and has incredible muscle control. Her isolations are incredible, her style is often imitated, and her creativity is unsurpassed.
2. Ansuya blends cabaret and a teeny bit of tribal fusion style bellydance with traditional indian dance moves. Her dance style is beautiful, fluid and mesmerizing.
3. Mira Betz is an incredibly talented dancer with a keen sense of theatrics. She brings a coy playfulness to her dances and even though she refuses to be labelled and I've only seen her dance with tribal style dancers, watching Mira perform reminded me that cabaret ain't so bad, either.
4. Amy Sigil calls her brand of bellydance "hula fusion" and watching her troupe, Unmata, perform leaves you in awe of how fast hips and shoulders can shimmy. Then you go home and look like a fool trying to imitate.

So now you know!

A Poet

2006-11-15T12:29:00.000-08:00

A poet is someone who can pour light onto a spoon and raise it to nourish your parched holy mouth.

~Hafiz

Maybe I Need Wieniedar

2006-11-10T12:20:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, even when there is no spark, I will give things more of a chance with someone because he seems like a nice guy. I cancelled my last date with a certain puportedly nice guy because I wasn't feeling well. Surprisingly, he didn't say, "Hope you feel better." He didn't call me that day or that week to see how I was feeling. So I felt like if he wasn't interested in my well-being, eh, I really didn't need to pursue things with him.

But prior to all this, he invited me to see David Sedaris live and I had accepted. I called him a couple of days before the show to check in since we hadn't talked since I'd been sick. I also wanted to give him an out, since he had asked me to go as his date, and I didn't want to date him now. So I was going to say I was looking forward to it but if he still intended the evening to be a date, I would understand if he preferred to ask someone else.

So I called and he said he was "very hurt" by my abrupt cancellation a few weeks ago (I told him I was sick!!) and that I should have called him later that evening to see if he was available to get together (But I was still sick!). This man is 43 years old, mind you, but for some reason sat there feeling woefully sorry for himself instead of just calling me himself. (I guess I should have called him a waaaahmbulance). Then he said that he knew we had "tentatively discussed maybe going to David Sedaris together" but since I hurt him so much, he had already invited someone else. (The poor woman! lol).

So I said it was fine, but I did gently call him on his b.s., and point out that we had set plans when he decided to invite another person without informing me that he was cancelling our plans. I said that if he wasn't interested in dating, he should have just said so, not tried to put blame on me. He said I really hurt him by the "abrupt way" I cancelled. He went on and on about how my "abrupt cancellation" hurt his feelings. Then he tried to see if we still had a chance. I had to laugh.

Sometimes it's hard to discern the authentic nice guys from the passive-aggressive wienies.

Spreading coolness across the land

2006-10-27T11:59:00.000-07:00

There are three best things about Los Angeles. One is the sunny weather. Another is the rollerblading/biking/rollerskating path that winds along the beach from south of Venice to Santa Monica. The other best thing is NPR affiliate kcrw's music programming. Every morning I am sitting at my desk, I am grateful that I can stream Morning Becomes Eclectic and start my day off right.

It's the best morning show I have ever heard in my life, and by best I mean no insipid prank calls, no inane "controversial" talk, just a good host who plays amazingly good music. You will be introduced to aural coolness far beyond what you ever imagined.

A poem by Hafiz

2006-10-26T11:40:00.000-07:00

I have learned so much from God
That I can no longer call myself
a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew.
The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me
That I can no longer call myself
a man, a woman, an angel, or even a pure soul.
Love has befriended Hafiz.
It has turned to ash and freed me
Of every concept and image my mind has ever known.
~ Hafiz, a Persian poet who lived from 1320 C.E. to 1389 C.E.

I guess everything's all right, then

2006-10-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

"The place where you are right now, G-d circled on a map for you."

~ Hafiz

Peace Activism

2006-10-19T14:54:00.000-07:00

Someone asked me recently to explain my interest in joining a Jewish/Muslim dialogue group. I am a Persian (Iranian) Jew who grew up in the halcyonic days of "Free to Be You and Me" diversity. As a child, my melting pot group of friends and I shared our cultures and traditions with each other without any judgment. As an adult, things got more complicated. In college, I befriended a black Muslim man who, for some reason, felt a sense of solidarity with me as a Middle Eastern person. When I mentioned I was Jewish, he suddenly turned cold and the budding friendship ended abruptly at that point. As a Persian with a name that does not give a clue as to my religious background, I have been exposed to anti-Semitic remarks by Muslim Persians who assumed that all present would agree with them. As a first generation American with a completely different experience of being a religious and ethnic minority than my family had in Iran, I have argued with certain members of my family in support of my liberal positions on many issues.

Sometimes, it gets tiring. There was a time that I could not let an offensive remark go by without a debate. I studied the history of the modern Middle East. I bought books on Islam. I studied Jewish ethics. I shared knowledge, argued, changed a few minds, and many times, felt dejected by how attached people can be to their prejudices. Then I got to a point where I had to give myself a break. I believe in Tikkun Olam (the Jewish concept that each of us has an individual role in "healing" the world) and at that time, there were some things going on in my life that I had to focus my energies on for a while. I excused myself from the table of debate for a while (that's not to say I didn't get into lively discussions at times) and dealt with some personal things.

Now those personal matters have been dealt with, and after this past summer, I have realized again, how for me, the Middle East conflict *is* personal. I am ready to focus more on it again and expand my knowledge. But I want this to happen in a positive way, in a setting where mutual respect and tolerance set the tone for greater understanding.

Many years ago, I met with a Jewish-Palestinian Dialogue group and found it challenging, as well as both inspiring and disappointing. The area where I live is beautiful and predominantly liberal, so there is a strong pro-peace movement here as well as a lot of anti-Zionist sentiment. I experienced this blend of political orientation in the dialogue group, as well, both from the Jews and Palestinians. I don't believe that peace and Zionism (which is simply the idea that Jews, like all other peoples, need to have a homeland) are mutually exclusive, and in fact believe that peace is the only way for both the Israelis and the Palestinians to have any quality of life. I continued participating in the dialogue group until I moved from the area, because I felt that I was learning a lot and the more I felt challenged by opposing viewpoints, the more opportunity that gave me to examine my own point of view and assumptions.

This past summer I experienced more anti-Semitism in a few months due to the war in Lebanon than I have in a lifetime. My friends and I have talked about how alienated we felt as Jews at a recent pro-peace festival, where a speaker cracked a joke comparing Israel to the Nazis. Honestly, I find that some people who call themselves peace activists are actually activists for one side, not necessarily for peace. I have a certification in mediation and I feel very strongly that whatever our personal backgrounds, if we really want peace, we have to understand and respect the humanity and pain of both sides of this conflict.

Campaign for Beauty

2006-10-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Dove's new ad campaign is a refreshing break from the usual high-pressure ads aimed at women. I know it's still advertising, and I know after this campaign, they may go back to conventional ads, but in the meantime, I really want to support this attempt at something new. It's so much more positive than the usual attempts to make women feel inadequate.

And I think everyone should watch the mini film on the Dove website showing how our perception of beauty is distorted.

5 Simple Pleasures

2006-10-11T21:56:00.000-07:00

I have this thing I do sometimes when I feel overwhelmed by how complicated and challenging life can be, or underwhelmed by the mundanity of everyday life. I try to pay attention and pay gratitude to the little pleasures in life. I don't remember exactly how I got the idea but I know it was inspired by Andrea Scher, blogging superhero. I make a list of 5 Simple Pleasures I encounted recently and often share this list with friends by email.

Making my list brings my focus to the little things in life I often overlook, and it jumpstarts a process where my friends share their 5 Simple Pleasures as well. Reading other people's lists is illuminating and yet another pleasure. And to my great pleasure, I have just happened upon a blog called Three Beautiful Things, which is pretty much the same idea. So cool!

And by the way, my 5 Simple Pleasures for today:

- The Middle Eastern drumming music in my tribal bellydance class tonight;
- Finally, finally realizing that I could truly enjoy being alone right now;
- Walking past my favorite subway singer after work, whose mahogany voice fills the underground tunnel and reverbates in my skull long after I catch my train;
- Being thanked profusely by a client for the work I've done; and
- Even though I struggled, I was able to keep up in my dance class!

Make the Most

2006-10-11T16:34:00.000-07:00

Make the Most - Brett Dennen

"And in the morning when I rise
one question that feels like the sun in my eyes
am I making the most of this life
so much trouble and so much strife
and in my guilty hour
through all of my shame
when all my love is run sour I have no one else to blame
cause it finds me through the mask I wear and I see it through my eyes closed
but still I cannot bear to stare into my worries and my woes
there’s comfort in self loathing and it’s easy to slip into it
but still I must learn to lead my life with no regrets
time it all moves in the same direction
so don’t let it pass you by
cause it moves so fast there’s no time for perfection

so make the most of this life
make the most of this life
I’ll make the most of this life
make the most of this life

when I fall I fall hard
and I dwell to often in my faults
I must accept it and move on
there’s just no shame in having to crawl
because it finds me through the mask I wear and I see it through my eyes closed
but still I cannot bear to stare into my worries and my woes
there’s comfort in self loathing and it’s easy to slip into it
but still I must learn to lead my life with no regrets
time it all moves in the same direction
so don’t let it pass you by
because it moves so fast there’s no time for perfection

so make the most of this life
oh make the most of this life
I’ll make the most of this life
just make the most of this life

and if you come to me smiling oh I
will see you shining out from within
such a beautiful grin
falling down on me and [cradling?] my skin
wake I and pour I a cup
wake I and pour I a cup
wake I and pour I a cup of life."

[Yes, I am trying to get you to check out Mr. Brett Dennen.]

DGSM Strong Suggestion #1: Approach Her!!!

2006-10-11T16:07:00.000-07:00

I don’t know it is an urban phenomenon, or a generational thing, or specific to my locale (San Francisco, and that might be significant, if you are a math person. More on that later), but it seems like men in their late twenties to mid-thirties are becoming wallflowers. Everywhere I go, I see men holding up the wall, staring and staring and not making a move to try to meet women.

Maybe they are gay. Or maybe in a city full of gay men, the percentage of the single male population left over is in disproportionately high demand and therefore they don’t have to do any work! They are like an endangered species that has forgotten how to hunt. Poor birds. But why so helpless?

I mean, if we assume women are nearly 50% of the population, and there are definitely more gay men in SF than gay women, then there are wayyyyyy too many single straight women for each single straight man. This town is a straight man’s paradise! The secret is out! (It is San Francisco, after all. Gay or straight, we are all out). A guy who’s a “6” in any other city is an automatic “8” in San Francisco. If you are a member of a minority group (Jewish, Black, etc.) in which the women tend to want to date members of their own and have a hard time finding suitable ptions, give yourself another point or two on the one-to-ten scale.

Yup, this is a straight man’s paradise. But that doesn’t make it okay to be a cad. And many of us women are not attracted to guys who make us do all the work. So my Strong Suggestion #1 is to Make Your Approach. Wherever you happen to reside, be it the straight man's paradise by the bay or elsewhere, if you see a woman you are interested in, say, “hello.” It doesn’t have to be a huge risk. It’s just a friendly overture. See where it goes. If she’s responsive, let the conversation flow and take it from there. If she's not, what did you really lose with that "hello?"

I think maybe a lot of men don’t make an approach because they are scared of rejection. Well, of course you are, sweetums! But if you learn how to read signals properly, you won’t be rejected as often as you fear. Which leads us to our next installment: Reading Signals. Stay tuned.

Dating Guide for Straight Men, Part 1

2006-09-27T14:48:00.000-07:00

I think it's about time we women opened the vault of secrets and gave men the key to dating success. I don't want to hear any more of "why don't women like nice guys?" I'm tired of trying to figure out if my date simply has no social skills, is nervous, or if he's simply a jerk. I don't want to offend by offering to pay my share of dinner, and I don't want to offend by failing to offer. We need rules, people! Not to restrict our freedom, but to set some social mores down so we can interpret situations better.

So this is the beginning of my Dating Guide for Straight Men (hereafter "DGSM"). I'm going to break it down from a woman's (at least, this woman's) point of view. I think that will be more helpful to men than if I wrote a dating guide for women, because I'm no expert on what guys want.

Let's start at the beginning: asking her out. No, let's take a step back even further and start before the beginning (yes, this is possible, according to kabbalah expert Daniel Matt's Rosh HaShanah sermon this year at Chochmat HaLev). The Big Question before the beginning of dating is whether nice guys finish last. We have to get this out of the way so you can determine what kind of human being you intend to be and how you will treat people you encounter once you start dating. Some guys have decided that if they want to succeed, they can't be nice. Not true.

For most women, the ideal guy is one that treats her with respect and kindness and makes her feel gorgeous and desired. There are different ways to do this, and each person has different things that rock their boat, but ultimately, people with healthy self-esteem want to be treated well. People that are attracted to abuse generally have some issues they need to address within themselves. It may be that they were abused in the past, it may be that they don't think they are worth better treatment, it may be that they think they can "fix" the situation or help the abuser, or it may be something else. But it's not healthy. Period.

A lot of women are attracted to a man who is strong. Many women are attracted to confident men for this reason: they seem self-sufficient and strong. So if there is a nice guy who is strong, he is definitely going to attract more women than a nice ugy who is passive or weak, or any kind of asshat. It's important to make that distinction between "passive" and "nice." Passive does not equal nice. It's wimpiness trying to disguise itself as nice. Passivity is not attractive to most women.

I hope this is clear: nice, strong, confident guys finish first. It's passive guys who finish last.

Next time, Strong Suggestion #1.

Eine Kleine Nacht Schatz

2006-09-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

After a nighttime picnic in front of the fountain at the park overlooking Grace Cathedral and salsa dancing in the Mission District, my date took me home and walked me to my apartment. I think he was going to lean in for a kiss but I wasn't feeling like having our first kiss in front of the homeless people rummaging through the dumpster that had been suddenly placed right in front of my apartment that evening. These two homeless people were really going at this dumpster like it was a sample sale at Barneys or whatever. Then this morning, when I stepped out the door, there was a neatly arranged FLEA MARKET practically happening on the sidewalk. All that stuff from last night.

"What are fears but voices airy?" -Wordsworth

2006-09-18T12:09:00.000-07:00

I'm proud of myself...I went out to surf in Santa Cruz this past weekend. It was my third attempt to surf and my first attempt in the cold, Northern California waters. I was worried about sharks and I told myself I would go out to the beach, but I didn't have to get on a board if I had a bad feeling. Once I saw the water, I didn't even think about not donning my wetsuit.

The water was freezing cold, the bottom of the ocean was pretty jagged and rocky, and my leash kept getting wrapped up in kelp. I didn't catch any waves, but I went out further than I ever have, despite the rocky bottom and kelp and fear of sharks, and I got really banged up by a huge wave and having my "teacher" surf straight into my arm and hip.

I'm proud of my new bruises, since I usually never get bruised from anything but walking into coffee tables. Now I have a nasty purple and brown bruise crawling up the length of my right arm and a lovely bright red and purple 3 x 4 inch smacker on my right hip. Pretty good for a weinie-girl who never willingly participated in sports!

She Opened Government to Everyone

2006-09-14T12:11:00.000-07:00

At the top of my list of people I'd like to meet one day was former Texas governor Ann Richards. I've always admired her charm, strength, and zest for life. Sadly, she passed away last night after a battle with cancer, and the world is a better place for her having been in it for 73 years.

She was a vibrant, quick-witted spitfire who didn't enter politics until her forties and got her motocycle license at sixty. Before she left office, Richards said, "I did not want my tombstone to read, 'She kept a really clean house.' I think I'd like them to remember me by saying, 'She opened government to everyone.'"

CBSNews.com lists among her accomplishments the fact that "as governor, Richards appointed the first black University of Texas regent, the first crime victim on the state Criminal Justice Board, the first disabled person on the human services board and the first teacher to lead the State Board of Education. Under Richards, the fabled Texas Rangers pinned stars on their first black and female officers."

Be With Those Who Help Your Being

2006-09-11T17:57:00.000-07:00

The poem below is from Rumi, the mystic, poet, and founder of Mawlawi Sufism. I happened upon it while searching for something else (ah, poetic serendipity!) and it speaks to what I am going through.

That's the beauty of poetry. Something can be so personal yet resonate in a universal way so that a stranger can read it and feel the persistent tugging of truth.

Be with those who help your being.
Don’t sit with indifferent people,
whose breath comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.

A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don’t try to fly, and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it’s too late for all you could become.

Leaves get yellow.
The tree puts out fresh roots and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?

~Rumi

Teens, Sex Workers, & Musicians

2006-09-10T14:01:00.000-07:00

Though it seems to me that MySpace is for teens and sex workers, and aspiring teenage sex workers, and even though it gives me the heebie jeebies, I will refer you to Brett Dennen's page just so you can hear some of his music. It's that worth it.

So I must revise my prior assessment: MySpace is for teens, sex workers, and musicians.

In the alternative, you can find him at www.brettdennen.com. Just make sure you find him.

Honoring What Comes

2006-09-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

This story amazes me. It's about an ordinary woman, and an ordinary heartbreak, and ordinary disappointment. I use the word, "ordinary" to refer only to the universality of love and betrayal and loss. But it turns out that she is not ordinary at all.

A month and a half before her planned wedding, she found out (in a rather interesting way) that her fiance was cheating on her. What she did next shows what an extraordinarily pragmatic, positive, generous person Kyle Paxman is. I'm so inspired by her ability to confront unpleasant facts and use her creativity to turn things around the best way she knew how.

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
Some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your houseempty of it's furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

~ Rumi

and it's only $499!!! plus shipping!

2006-09-07T13:53:00.000-07:00

I want this. It's called the iGallop and it totally makes sense to me as an exercise machine. Make fun all you want ("get toned and get off, all at once!"), I think I would finally really exercise while watching t.v. if I had this. It's much more exciting than my exercise ball, which is more fun as a rolly chair. It's just that it's soooo expensive. I might as well take up horseback riding. Or more likely, combine my usage of my exercise ball as a seat with a pony rocker and dream my little heart away.

"today's paranoiac is sometimes tomorrow's survivor"

2006-09-06T09:56:00.000-07:00

David Shenk discusses disaster aversion and whether our society is too paranoid, or simply not worrying enough about very real threats. Read it, and then decide, has Slate "given much too large a megaphone to a real nervous ninny?" Or is Mr. Shenk on to something?

Why? The Pomposity.

2006-09-05T22:38:00.000-07:00

I just forgot why I do this. I started this blog as a personal exercise, to get me to writing in an informal yet regular way, without over-thinking or censoring too much. I also wanted to force myself to put my imperfect writing in a public space, to get over those fears.

But I don't have something to say to the world every day. No, that's not true. You should listen in to my head sometimes. I certainly think I have something to say to the world, almost every minute of the day. I'm ridiculously pompous. So why am I such a shrinking flower when it comes to posting on my blog?

At first, I thought my creativity was playing coy, and would loosen up and I would get rolling by now. But most of the time, when I sit down to post something on my blog, I feel the same inhibition I felt the very first time. Is it like this for other bloggers? (Haha, I inadvertently referred to myself as a "blogger"). Is this an initial shyness that will wear off? And are my original reasons for doing this being satisfied? I'm certainly posting informal musings in a public space, but how many are reading and should I or should I not focus more on content? If I have so much to say, why aren't I saying it? And what makes me think anyone wants to read about *this*? :)

Labor Day Should Be Re-named Leisure Day

2006-09-03T23:23:00.000-07:00

It's nice to get a Monday off, to start a week on Tuesday and already be so close to Wednesday, Hump Day. According to the New York Times, "All the studies say that no one works harder than Americans do." The Times continues, "it is both the natural response to the land of opportunity and the cost of living in such a material culture. For most of us, it’s easier just to go on working, caught up in the familiar day-to-day rhythms, than it is to take a real vacation. The routine of work becomes the bedrock of our lives, the substance of who we are." That scares me.

I've inherited a good share of my immigrant parents' strong work ethic. I take pride in a job well done, and believe in putting 100% of my effort into the task at hand. I also believe in living a more balanced life than my parents have, putting 100% of my focus on enjoying my time when I'm not at work. Separating work from my personal life is very important to me. To me that means not bringing work stress home or into my personal relationships;, not being constantly "plugged in" by a Blackberry or whatever new technology is available to allow us to work from anywhere, any time; not bringing personal issues or stress into the office; and making sure that I use my vacation time completely, both in terms of using the time and using it well by freeing myself of work concerns while I'm away.

As much as my boss would love for me to check my email every day from Waikiki - and I tried it - I have to say I won't do it again as it doesn't feel like a vacation when I'm mentally back in the office. The main purpose of a vacation, when one has an office job like I do, is getting away mentally.

And lately, I noticed that I have a hard time doing so. Maybe my boss would see this as a sign of my evolved commitment to my job. I see it as a worrisome sign that I am becoming one of the multitudes of workaholic drones who not only spend most of their waking hours at work, but have lost sight of what life is really about. It's one thing to work hard and to appreciate that I have a job to do. It's another not to be able to relax on my time off.

To remind myself of my priorities, I think of Maya Angelou's words of wisdom, "I've learned that making a 'living' isn't the same as making a 'life'." It's a good thing to think about this day of leisure.

Ring, ring!

2006-09-02T19:26:00.000-07:00

Now, I don't do this kind of thing (*polishes halo*), but if you have to call your booty call, call him or her a koonchi zang. And then this cool little Persian slang my cousin Ben and I coined will become part of the vernacular. Yeah, right. ;)

The Peak of My Anal-Retentiveness

2006-08-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

I actually had to send the following in an email to my assistant:

I've noticed some papers are folded over in the files because they were hole-punched too far to one side. This just makes files bulkier over time. Please make sure your hole puncher is adjusted so the pages don't stick out or fold over. Thank you.

I swear I'm not a micro-manager! But she's been sticking documents in files so they stick out or fold over and it's making the files so bulky and everytime I want to read something, I have to unfold the side or the edge first, or uncurl it from around the outside of the file folder. I mentioned it once to her already and I felt horrible doing so because it's such a small thing, but my files are a mess because of it. And how hard is it to adjust your hole puncher?

Let's just hope this goes no further.

Internet Dating and Catching Liars

2006-08-08T15:24:00.000-07:00

Huge clues the last guy I met lied about his age:

1. He was wearing old school, scuffed, white Reebok high-tops, without any sense of nostalgic fashion irony.

2. He had deep lines in his forehead but not a single fine line around or under his very tight eyes.

3. Finally, the clincher was when he said, "I just got The Internet."

Oy. I shoulda known by the fuzzy photo in his profile.

Friends Don't Let Friends Ride Dirty

2006-08-01T12:41:00.000-07:00

From www.marriedtothesea.com

Happy Birthday Month, Leos!

2006-08-01T09:31:00.000-07:00

As a flaming lioness myself, I have to say watch out for Leos! We are characteristically fierce and proud, but some of us come incognito in the form of shy wallflowers. Don't be fooled; that feline Leo energy still lurks within.

In honor of August birthdays, Rob Brezny's forecast for Leos this week:

"Travel writer Bruce Chatwin walked around Australia as he researched and meditated on the indigenous people's beliefs about what the land was like in the ancient past. He wrote: 'Aboriginal creation myths tell of the legendary totemic beings who wandered over the continent in the Dreamtime, singing out the name of everything that crossed their path--birds, animals, plants, rocks, waterholes--and so singing the world into existence.' Given the fact that you're now primed to create a new domain or two, Leo, may I suggest the aborigines' approach? You'll infuse everything with extra beauty if you play around with singing it into existence."

You can read the rest of his literate horoscopes at www.freewillastrology.com.

You Are Not Alone

2006-08-01T09:27:00.000-07:00

2006-07-28T12:18:00.000-07:00

After an evening spent hopping around town from happy hour to happier hour, I can't help but think, wouldn't it be so much easier if all I was looking for *was* tea?

I'd know just the places to go. Like Samovar Tea Lounge in San Francisco. They have green tea, white tea (I bought some loose leaf white tea to take home one day), black tea, red tea, they even have kosher tea! I was going to make a bad joke about being thankful because the one thing I know I'm *not* looking for is bacon in my tea, but I refrained. Yes, that is my idea of refraining.

Back to tea, if you haven't had Moroccan mint tea, you must taste this sweet exilir at some point in your life. The Persians are not to be outdone when it comes to tea AND love, it seems. I've never had Persian Love Tea exactly but I'm going to try this recipe!

And finally, for the tea adventurists among you, there is boba! I'm surprised that Wikipedia has an entry on boba but I guess they have an entry on everything. You can try to make your own (let me know how that goes) or you can just stop by any boba shop in the Sunset District or the Quickly shop on Castro and 17th. Yum.

Public Service Announcement

2006-07-27T11:49:00.000-07:00

Stilettos are really good for retrieving that piece of paper that slid behind your desk into that unreachable netherworld between your desk and the wall . . . if you don't mind a hole pierced through the middle of your paper.

Almost Guaranteed Fabulous Hair Days!

2006-07-26T13:53:00.000-07:00

This one is for my curly-haired friends. Ladies, gentlemen, Chia pets, I have found the holy grail of all hair styling products! Introducing . . . Dadada Da Dada! . . . Paves Flawless Red Carpet Firm Hold Repairing Styling Mousse!

I have coarse, thick, color-treated curly hair that tends to frizz. With this mousse, I don't even have to use a leave-in conditioner, and I'm nearly guaranteed a good hair day! I had to get used to this mousse, because it's watery and not as foamy as regular mousses. So distributing it is a bit different. It comes out of the bottle a bit drippy but once you get used to applying it, waiting a bit, and then scrunching up the curls so they won't be crunchy, you will love having shiny, perfect curls. I'm impressed with this product because it makes my curls look fantastic! It makes my hair really shiny (which nothing other than a serum will do - and serums leave it feeling heavy and sticky) and my curls are springy. I love it!

I've gone through 2 bottles and have had excellent hair days with each use, with only one exception, on a very humid day at the beach in Santa Monica. I was shocked, since I've become spoiled by my Paves Red Carpet mousse and now expect consistent fabulousity, but that was my only bad hair day with this stuff. You have to admit, to have gone through 2 bottles of this stuff with nearly always fabulous hair is amazing!

Okay, that was all the good news. I'm sorry to do this to you, but there is bad news, too. I originally found my Paves Red Carpet mousse (you know I love saying "Red Carpet mousse") at my humble, local Walgreen's. But they stopped carrying it! I think they may have it online, however. I know Ulta is selling it online (www.ulta.com).

I called Paves Professionals' 800 number twice to ask what retail establishment is selling the mousse. The first time I was told "some Target stores" carry it. Well, I checked, and not the stores near me. The second time I left a message asking where I could buy it and no one called me back. I am so in love with this mousse and freaked out by the diminishing product left in my last bottle that I looked up their customer service email address and emailed them my question. No response to date. (Shame, shame, Ken Paves and his employees). So, the product is great, but the customer service is not. I don't know why they wouldn't be eager to tell a customer where to buy this stuff. If you see it in a store, grab yourself a few bottles to hoard . . . and tell me where it was so I can get there immediately!

Bueller, Bueller, anyone? Anyone?

2006-07-25T16:18:00.000-07:00

Hello, out there, Universe! *wiggles bootay in interplanetary display of disco-readiness* I'm all alone out here in space (of the cyber variety) so far and looking forward to populating this blog with little slices of life, opinions and reviews from San Francisco.