Mea Culpa

Life as We Know It

Here I am on Thanksgiving Eve, at the parents' house in Valencia.  I realize an unknown sitcom has been playing on the TV next to me for the past half-hour. . . pleasant-enough background noise, to be honest. 

So, it's the end of my first (short) week as a fully-functioning human being, that is, a working one.  Training at NHM is going peachily.  It is a good feeling, a missed feeling of learning and accomplishing.  That transition from bumbling and observing to moving with purpose.  Of course, this week's training has been in the Insect Zoo, which I'm already familiar with from volunteering.  I get paid good money to feed crickets to scorpions with really long tongs (preferably in front of a crowd- everyone knows I'm a showboater).  It's my first real job with benefits and whatnot, and more importantly, it's The Job that I hoped and dreamed and waited and waited for.  It is a pleasure and a privilege and an undeniably  cool feeling to walk the hushed museum halls in the morning, under the shadows of dinosaur and giant sloth skeletons, with the anticipation of a day's work ahead of me.   Next week I start training in Reptile Care, which will be a little different- I'm pretty much unfamiliar with that portion of the Discovery Center (the Center Zoo is essentially split up into insects and reptiles).  Keep your fingers crossed.   

Needless to say, I have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving Eve.  I'm doing the majority of the food tomorrow; pictures to follow.  The menu will be as follows:

1.  Roasted turkey w/corn bread stuffing
2.  Spinach-rice casserole
3.  Spicy Thai green beans
4.  Mashed potatoes with poblano peppers and queso fresco
5.  Dark chocolate tart w/hazelnut crust
6.  Pumpkin pie squares

That should be enough, right?  I say for holidays one should eschew 'traditional' food and just make all their favorites in one day.  I don't think we're having any Filipino food, but it'll be pretty multi-multicultural.

Nimbus just jumped up on the computer desk to let me know she's back from being outside.  My parents worry because there's coyotes but I think she can take care of herself.  She quickly determined a shortcut outside off my parent's 2nd floor balcony, clever girl, no more waiting for them to let her out or in.  Her nose is cold and she smells like grass and stone, and when I pet her I can feel sparks crackling between her fur and my fingers.  It's like petting purring glass (in a good way).  I miss her the most when I'm away from home (which I just said out loud, to which Bob replied 'Gee thanks a lot').  It's hard being away from home base so much, though the perks of spending evenings with the honey (Hi, buddy!) and avoiding an hour-and-a-half commute (each way!)  far outweigh any of that.  With any luck my own apartment will be in the works in early 2006. 

Ice Cube says it best (I've been quoting this a lot lately for some reason): 'Today I didn't even have to use my A.K. . . I got to say, it was a good day.'

Gobble gobble!

Argggh, Really!

Pirates aren't just a passe hipster style threat anymore!

Modern-Day Pirates Threaten More than the High Seas

How funny is this?

Currently listening to: Juliana Hatfield 'Universal Heartbeat'

A Thousand Words

Look, a post!  A post!  Here's some images from Halloween 2005.

The Calderon original:

And Paul's re-creation (with the help of Alex):

I think this will be my Christmas card this year.  Sailor, Frenchman, zombies, Don King and a southern belle:

And, finally, here's an update of our very own Manhattan Project.  Shit's totally gone, guys.  It's weird.  This is a view from Manhattan Place looking across what used to be the playground:

This is Just to Say (Again)

How cute is this?  What can I say, it makes me happy.  I'm having a gross idea of modifying it into a toilet shape.  Also check out cupcake goddess Clare Crespo's Yummyfun website for more culinary quirkations.  From the Rice Krispies website:

A Walk in the Park

Long time no post!  Not to say that nothing's been going on.  It's just hard to blog about.  Operation Kris N' Kay moveout is chugging along, kicked into high gear by the v. real possibility (am I deluding myself. . . I guess it's a certainty) that the house will be rendered uninhabitable mid-next week, when they start the asbestos removal!  There is still a TON of preschool stuff downstairs, come to the big sale this weekend if you'd like.  Conchita will cut you a deal.  I don't have too much furniture to move, so I'm not worried about relocating my own personal effects (to the parents' house in Valencia. . . oy).  Though it's weird to think that my life's possessions are slowly making their way to Valencia in a steady procession of brown Trader Joe's bags.  Can I just say that empty bookcases, cd shelves, and walls are inutterably depressing.  The girls and I are going up to San Francisco this weekend for our much-ballyhooed and much-delayed trip.  It will be fun, though poorly-timed, as I could be moving and I'm missing SunJunc which is synonymous with L.A. summerfuntimes. 

Anyhow, here's some pictures I've been meaning to post.  Last Sunday the fella and I decided to head for the hills!  Here's a suggestion for a nice day.  Grab your special someone and head for that trail that starts near the Observatory.   Walk past a tree commemorating a certain Beatle, and learn a bit later that Los Angeles is sister city to Berlin.  Climb up, up, up past the smog for some killer views.  When your shaky legs finally get you back to your car, congratulate yourself for being a badass urban hiker-about-er.  Now, why not have a smoothie at the Los Burritos near Vermont and Sunset?  I like orange juice blended with ice, strawberries, honey, & banana.  Look for the 'street lights through the ages' display in the parking lot.  You won't be sorry. 

Dear Observatory, please open soon!

How to Boil An Egg, And Other Exciting Tales of Emergency First-Aid

So I decided to bite the bullet and finally take a First-Aid/CPR class at the Red Cross.  I figured it would be a good thing to have on my resume, and I might as well make the most of my summer vacation.  Our instructor was decent, just grating enough to make class interesting and bond us in our mutual clandestine eye-rolling at him.  And my classmates (it was a small class, only 6 of us) were a cool bunch, all around my age.  A couple chicks who were teachers at a soon-t0-be opened charter school, another with a preschool background, and a couple dudes.  Our instructor started off last week with some examples of non-emergency 911 calls he's heard about, such as, indeed, 'How do you boil an egg?'  Then we ran through the gauntlet of rescue breathing, CPR, Good Samaritan laws, etc etc.  There were some funny moments when we'd pair off to re-created emergency situations.  'My baby my baby!'  'Ma'am, do you need assistance?  I am a trained in CPR by the Red Cross.'  There were also some rather. . . unappetizing pictures of burns and jacked-up hand wounds in our booklet and instructional videos.  In lieu of the usual written exam (we didn't have one because it seems like they simply never sent one down to us) we were orally tested instead.  Man was he grilling my ass and I also experienced the peculiar sensation of knowing the answers to all the questions asked to other people but not my own.  At any rate, 9 hours of class wiser, I am now proud to be a card-carrying, Red-Cross-certified administrator of CPR and first aid.  Holla!

Here's me and my trunk manikin (not mannequin).  I named him Ricardo; I've probably saved his life 8 times and spent much more time lip-locked with him than I'd like to admit.  Too bad I didn't get a picture of my plastic little baby. 

Slingshot:

More to Love in Morro Bay

Weekend tally:

Giant chessboards: one.
'Old Guys Rule' t-shirts: one.
Beaches surfed: one.
Tidepools observed: two.
Creeks splashed around in: one.
Dolphin sightings: one (pod).
ATM cards lost (and found): one.
Pretty pretty flowers and plants: like a zillion.
Fanciful bread sculptures: about ten.
Octopus (octopi?): one.
Sea otters: two.  'Now there's a laid-back kind of creature.'
Giant whale (fake): one.
Awesome moments in the invigorating salt-tinged air  with the special fella: countless!

See the photo album for proof.

This is Just to Say

There are two pine trees outside my window, rooted in the playground.   Everyone knows that they were planted for me and my sister when we were little kids.  Anyway, lately they have been shedding  a prodigious amount of needles- I mean mad clumps every single day.  Are they committing suicide, having sensed their impending doom?  Yesterday some structural engineers came over to assess the building.  Apparently these days even demolition is a delicate process.  The exterior and perimeter of the property have gotten pretty messy already since the School closed.  There's graffiti and all kinds of litter floating around. . . I think I'll go and clean things up a little.  I debate over the futility of this kind of upkeep, like with the plants and stuff, so close to the end.  But it pains me to see things like this.  It's the least I can do for the ol' girl, aka Kris N' Kay. 

Here is my new-ish rooftop garden.  I felt compelled to lug those plants up there myself, they give me great joy when I'm out there so it's worth it.  It's the perfect place to sit at twilight listening to the #1 fella play guitar.  You'd be able to see the Hollywood sign in the hills ahead if it weren't so damn smoggy.

And since I'm sentimentalizing anyway, here's something I was thinking about yesterday.  Doesn't everyone think they have the most beautiful friends ever?  When looking through pictures, doesn't everyone think 'We are like the best-looking crew around'?  I know I do.  Here's an oldie but goodie, let's see, this was my 25th birthday party.  The proof's in the picture (and sorry to everyone not featured, you can't see it but there are actually tiny pictures of each and every one of you pasted onto our hearts).

Can't Stop the Wizard Rock

I learned about something wonderful on Rannie's site- a band called Harry and the Potters.  Two brothers (representing HP year 4 and HP year 7) in matching Potter-wear who rock songs with titles like 'Save Ginny Weasley' and 'the Wrath of Hermione.'  They are coming to Los Angeles!  They are playing downtown in the Central Library,  how fucking cool is that?  I always thought HP aesthetically and maybe a little thematically had a few indie-rock leanings so I'm glad someone has taken the logical next step. 

You can learn about them on their website and also hear some songs on MySpace. 

Better Read than Dead

And I finished the book a few days ago. . . here's what I thought without getting too spoiler-ish.  This latest installment is I guess one of those growing-up/setting-up chapters in the grand story.  I won't bore you with plot summary because honestly it seemed like. . . nothing much happens.  Ron and Hermy are reduced to a niggling Greek background chorus while Harry blunders about basically as pig-headed as always.   They're Waiting for Voldemort.  There is a fair amount of fighting and snogging, the kids are going on 17 years old in the novel if you can believe it.  The wizard world is going through some taut times and I think the subtle McCarthyism that Rowlings introduces is totally under-emphasized.  What happens to the idea of 'witch hunts' when the people you're persecuting ARE witches?  Who witches the wizards?  (This is my play on 'Who watches the Watchers' and jesus  I am going to stop hitting you, dear Reader, on the head now.  Goodbye.)

Who Took the Bomp?

(This is a repeat of a post I made that was accidentally erased grrr Internet)

So last night (7/21) we went to go see JD of Le Tigre spin at Little Alexis'.  We got there and the vibe was, okay, a little weird, no one we knew was there except for Jeppe and the place was full of what my friend Aaron calls the 'ladymen.'  Luckily I had the new Ms. Pac Man (cocktail, speed chip) and Cheryl and Elaine to entertain me.  At 11:48 pm e were outside having a smoke, ready to call it quitts, when JD got there, along with Johanna from the band!  Score!  Sadly Ms. Hanna was not in attendance.  JD went on (question of the night: How does she grow that 'stache, exactly?)  and everything sort of galvanized on the dancefloor the way things do when a really expert DJ/JD starts rocking the room.  I felt the rapture come over me as I danced to Amerie, punk rock, and a song about cunnilungus.  Also a bunch of familiar and lovely faces showed up as well as, though I did not find out til later, Electralane.  Starfucker that I am, I tried to dance next to Johanna (who was rocking a big white t-shirt and has wicked dance moves).  As I was leaving I finally asked her for a high-five to which she very sweetly obliged.  Score 2! 

You should go to the Le Tigre website and read what they have to say and watch the 'TKO' video.  See Jeppe in a cameo and the three girls in their matching-tuxedo, rock not cock, synchronized-dance-moves kind of glory.