Today's ailment:
While the sore throat seems to waning, it is replaced with dizziness of previously unknown capacities. Alas, we're going to Tahoe anyway, as the pup is now over 24 hours free of vomit. Yee-haw.

Your city may boast many things- sure, maybe it has the best shopping in the world, or the best bagels, or Elvis is from there, or it has the best surf. Well, wa-wa-wa-wa-wa, as Charlie Brown's teacher would say. Here in San Francisco, we are proud to boast the largest gay pride parade in the world. For a long time, San Francisco was known as a mecca for gay men, though I think the dotcom years changed the image of the City that many people around the world had. Well, hot damn, we STILL have the largest GLBTQQ (have you seen the latest Q? it's for "Questioning") parade. This is the first year in my seven years in the City that I did not attend (sick), but enjoy these images, as I did, and you can feel as if you're there.
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I do not kid you when I say that the Belle is actually watching her rice cook, she is so hungry. She is sitting on the floor, very attentive with cocked ears, looking at the pot on the stove and crying and trying to smell it. Babe is hungry after throwing everything up these last few days.
It ain't nothing but chicken broth and gargling salt water over here today. blech.

I was reminiscing last night about my 7th grade turn-about dance. Let it be known that I was "making a statement" by wearing a pair of ripped knees jeans underneath my formal Gunne Sack dress.

We had solid poop this morning, but now we're back to loose poop. Ah, the thrilling life of a dog owner.

I woke up this morning, with a raging sore throat, to the dog puking again. Please, when will it end? Having to postpone our trip to Tahoe doesn't make me very happy, but I want the fam to be in good shape to get there. I've spent more time this last week cleaning up vomit than I care to remember.

In further news on & around 26th Street, Kurt and Laura (and I guess The Girls) are getting hitched. Celebrations tonight include bbq'ing and drinks at a local bar. All of us here just couldn't be happier for them.

Make that 3 days in a row at the beach. It's fucking hotter than hell here.

Don't you love when you just discover someone is linking to you?

My poor little Belle got terribly ill yesterday. She threw up about 6 times and then had to go to the vet, where they put her on an IV and did all sorts of tests. They don't know what it is, but she was able to break her fast this morning and have brown rice, chicken broth and cottage cheese. Keep your fingers crossed that she keeps it down.

I've been to the beach twice in the last two days. Sometimes a whole year will pass and I don't go to the beach, even though I've never lived more than 1/2 hour from it. I prefer the former than the latter so I am happy today.

Hello, shoppers!
Today I discovered a shopping secret. I can wear girls size 16 clothes. This opens up a whole new world of clothing for me at low, low prices. Today I got a pair of khakis (nobody's favorite, but if you are going to be a teacher, you will need khakis too!) for $5.99! Now that is a bargain if I ever did see one. The great thing is that usually the size 16's are the ones that go on sale cause the kids don't buy them. Now I am 5'9 and 125 pounds-- never would have thought I fit into kids clothes. But give it a whirl next time you're shopping, you might fit into them as well!

are you there God? it's me, nicole.
why are you making it so fucking hot here? god, if you're going to do this, please provide me with a pool.

Today I met a girl who
a) has the exact same voice of someone i know. it's uncanny and simply freaky to hear.
b) is so similar to me in so many ways. we grew up in towns 8 miles apart, have dysfunctional fathers who abandoned us, have had lots of therapy, have been to all the same places, have anxiety disorders, eat the exact same things (pecto-lacto vegetarians), and it's uncanny and simply freaky.

she is one of the 85 bay area teach for america teachers starting next year who i've been spending all my time with lately. it's beyond bizarre to stay in this weird hotel, with a lot of extra time, just getting to know people. i know the rest of the summer is going to be the exact opposite of this, and quite frankly, that is fine. it turns out i reallly like free-time, when i'm at home. otherwise, i think i'd rather be scheduled.

Wrong I was.
I have been so nervous the last few days about beginning my Teach For America career, which was being commenced by a "Pre-Induction" week, in which we had no clue what to expect. Of course, I had to bring everything I owned, and do oodles of errands, and just generally freak out about how busy I'd be. Boy, was I off-base. It's a week in a hotel just 20 minutes from my house, and most of the planned time is social activities. Which is fine (though I'm going to pass on the San Francsico Scavenger Hunt!), just unexpected and I feel like an ass for wasting the last 3 days acting like a maniac. As a matter of fact, I am heading home for most of the day today. Yay for me. I miss the Belle and the lovely beau already and know that this is only a pretext of what is to come this summer when I depart to LA.
Blog world, I have returned, albeit briefly. xoxo

Well friends (all 3 of you), today I am departing for a pre-induction training down in Foster City for a week. It is the beginning of this seemingly insane summer, but I'm glad that it is starting, instead of me just sitting around waiting for it to start.
Before I leave, I've got to stop and give a little thanks to a whole lotta folks, in and out of the blog world. Holly and Charlie and Marley had the whole family over for a delicious dinner on Friday night and also got Belle and I lovely Origins bath products for us to enjoy. They also just make me feel like we have a great community where I live, which is something I value immensely. Also to Kurt and Laura for taking us to a flat-out AMAZING dinner at
Slanted Door last night, and also making us laugh hysterically through the entire dinner, and introducing me to all sorts of different wines. I feel "ok" this morning. Then to Jennifer for being on the phone with me when I realized that I needed all sorts of extra money for weird things like fingerprinting and US Constitution tests, and then writing me a check. Wow. And, of course, the lovely beau, for running around with me yesterday while I was acting like a mad woman, and paying for things like razor blades and toothpaste (it suddenly occured to me that I don't have my own toiletries), and sitting with me while I did all those emergency errands like getting my eyebrows waxed.
Really, I'm not one to normally go on about how blessed I feel, but this weekend is pulling a fast one on me.
I'll probably check email, so be in touch, huh?

Yesterday the phone rang and the Caller ID showed up as "US Government". I guess they were all calling somebody, but it was the wrong number. It reminded me of the time I was sitting home at about 10:00 on a Saturday night and the phone rang and the caller ID showed up as "Prison". Tre bizarre, no? Again, the wrong number. Nobody good EVER calls me.

Word up. Michele is on the blog scene and I can vouch for the fact that she's a riot. She kept me laughing all through Chaucer and Dante and all the rest of them dead white men.

Fair Warning to Fair Readers
I know I've mentioned this before, but it seems only fair to give you all fair warning that as of this Sunday, I don't know how often I will be able to post through August. I will have my computer, but also have about 1 hour of free time per day, and I'm just not sure it will always be spent blogging. I will be living in the dorms at USC (in LA), and teaching summer school in Compton, so I'm sure I'll have lots of stories. I will just save them up for fall if I can't get them out during the summer.
If you miss me, do email. I have a hard time NOT responding to emails.

Please let me know if this ridiculous beaurocracy makes sense to YOU:
I filed for unemployment for 3 weeks, because my employer asked me to leave early after I gave notice. I have been denied benefits UNTIL I GET A JOB?!?! how is that supposed to make any sense? When I have a job, I will have money. I'm unemployed now, so I don't. HELLO?

Now, I'm sorry, but you can't tell me you don't want to just schmoogle her. By the way, she's eating my "Girls Kick Ass" shirt here.

Belle at the beach, enjoying her pawmade hole.

In an act of amazing self-discipline, I got up this morning and washed the sheets. Which means I can't get back in bed for a few hours. While to your average joe, this sounds like a small feat, for me, at the moment, it is a huge challange.
Perhaps the fog is lifting...

*Note: Keep your fingers crossed. I'm going to try to upload some pics of the Belle today.

The kindness of homeless strangers
I just returned from a walk with the dogs in the park. The park is a mecca for all sorts of people- people with dogs, people with kids, kids making out or drinking, people without homes taking a nap. You know, it's a nice intersection of all sorts of folks.
Arriving with the dogs, and getting ready to take them off leash, I wanted to let the homeless man sleeping there that there would be dogs around. So I woke him up with some "Senor"'s and told him in my (VERY BROKEN) spanish that the dogs would be playing there. He told me it was "No problemo" and went on sleeping. The dogs cruised around, and save some sniffing, didn't really bother him. He then approached me and asked if I liked dogs (duh), and when I replied "si", he gave me a pin he had with the taco bell dog on it. Now this is a man who has, from what i can tell, NOTHING TO HIS NAME. He is not a shopping cart homeless man, but rather a seemingly possesionless homeless man. And he gave me what looked like one of his few things in the world... how kind is that?

so who of y'all is headed to the sf blogger meet-up?

In recent years, my brother and I came to the (very correct) conclusion that as a child he suffered from OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder, for those of you not in therapy). Of course, the times did not call for medication or therapy- it went undiagnosed and has subsided a bit over the years. When we finally realized this, we were sitting in a restaurant in Rhode Island with a friend of mine where the following converstation occured:
Friend: Well, what do you mean you had OCD? What would you do?
Bro: Well, like, if I accidently kicked the tire of a car, I would have to go around and kick ALL the tires of the car. And then go to the car next to it, and kick all the tires of that car.
Friend: Oh God, that's awful. What did your mom say?
Bro: GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!

My therapist actually cried she laughed so hard during our session
today.  She claims that I am really hysterical when suffering from
"depersonalization" or some such problem.  I knew that- craziness is
often funny to me because it touches on all that black humor that I
find so amusing.  I hate, hate, hate slapstick comedy- the obvious
humor just doesn't do it for me.  But dark, depressive humor- BRING IT
ON!

Things you cannot do during the two-hour window in which you are scheduled for a phone interview with unemployment:
* Walk the dog, even if she keeps standing by the door, staring at you longingly
* Make another phone call
* Use the restroom without bringing the phone with you
* Run to the store to get cigerettes
* Go do some laundry in the basement
* Sleep

Things you can do during the two-hour window in which you are scheduled for a phone interview with unemployment:
* Smoke
* Do your assigned reading shit
* Blog
* Check Email
* Surf the web, man
* Smoke
* Let yourself ponder the chains you are being held in by EDD and why they insist on keeping you here, frozen in your house, up way earlier than you need to be.
* Smoke, because last thought is sooooo deep that it deserves a cigerette

Rate from 1 to 10, in level of appropriate behavior,

1. Is it ok to wear hair in cutsey-style do's, i.e., ponytails or braids, when gray is poking through all the brown hair?
2. Is it ok to wear pj's when out for a late-night walk with the dog? Note: In a city, do run into people every time.

Please, folks, let me know.

I am thinking about how much money I spend on food. It's my big downfall in terms of spending, and sometimes when I eat 3 greek strained yogurts in one day ($1.59/ each), I think "Wow, I just ate $5.00 today. So then I started thinking- well, what if we just ate money instead of spending it on food? If $1 bills tasted like a bag of chips, but $100 bills tasted like a wonderful french dinner. Wouldn't that be, like, the weirdest thing ever?

Yup, I went ahead & changed my blog template along with my comments provider. Now you really can't say I don't have too much time on my hands.

I have an ex-boyfriend. He is a wonderful guy in so many ways. He also had to PURCHASE a warehouse to house his collection of old video games- I believe he has around 60 now. He went on to decorate the warehouse in a 70's style motif, as to bring back memories of when the games were actually in arcades.
So do you want to go visit the arcade?

I have concluded, with all sensibilities intact, where all postmodern thought begins.
It begins when a person, or a group of people, are left with too much time on their hands & too much education in their heads. One begins to have thoughts such as "Why must I stop at the red light? Who made this decision and how did they convince everyone to follow them? What would happen if I decided to stop playing by their rules?"
Normally, one does not have the time to make such considerations when one is rushing from one place to the next in all the hurly-furly of a normal day. But, WHOA, watch out for those of us who are without a place to be.

Just Another Thing I Don't Understand
If Google purchased Blogger, wouldn't you think that in their "sponsored links" section when you searched for "BLOG", Blogger would come up? Nope.

Time Well-Spent
Checking the DMV website every five minutes to see what the 'Wait-Time' is instead of just getting one's ass down there & waiting.

The problem with training a dog is that in one's warped little mind, one begins to believe that the dog understands language. And then one feels that the dog, by default, will understand every little word one says, while the dog just sits there looking very confused about why one is going on and on about something like cleaning the floor.

Signs I am spending too much time alone:
1. I have started calling the dog "woman" and "lady", thereby giving her characteristics of a person, and have begun treating her as such.
2. I cannot find the energy to make conversation with anyone, save the "lady".
3. I spend most of my waking hours checking email and blogs, of which there is ususally nothing new, and start to fall into bouts of depression as if being personally snubbed, when someone has not updated for my viewing pleasure (what? you people have LIVES?).
4. When there is something new, it is met with an inordinate amount of excitement, comparable to getting money in the mail.
5. Going to the doctor's office suddenly requires that I dress-up, being that he/she will be the only person that I interact with today.

When one buys a pair of Sevens Jeans, one's ass will look good but one will begin to feel short for the first time in one's 5'9" life.

It's official, y'all don't love me - nobody has left a single comment in a week.

My dog is so much more punk rock than you. She doesn't even have to paint her nails black- they come that way naturally.

Getting dressed this morning (ok, around 2 p.m.), I thought "Hell, it's Sunday. I want to wear comfy clothes all day". Then I realized
a) I'm unemployed. What's the difference between a Sunday and a Thursday?
b) I wear comfy clothes every day. It's gotten so bad that I get irritated at having to wear jeans all day.

I think I spend more time focusing on hair of all sorts than I do doing anything else in my life. Washing hair, styling hair, waxing hair, shaving hair, plucking hair, cleaning up hair, gathering hair, getting hair out of soap, brushing hair, sweeping hair, washing out hair from various objects. I wonder what would happen if I just let a week go by where I never did anything to hair of any sort. I would, most likely, be found dead, smothered by hair.

Somehow I think it hasn't quite hit me that I am going to be away from home for seven weeks this summer. I don't think I've ever spent so long away from home. I am a big homebody, I admit. I love to travel, I love to get away, but I also love being in my own bed, in my own space, having time to just sort of be with myself and take it slow. I feel really old to be living in a dorm and sharing a room. I mean, I share a room now, but somehow I think it will be different to share a room with two single-beds and a random roommate than the wonder of waking up every morning with the lovely beau. I'm also a little nervous about the schedule- every day from 6:30 a.m. until 10 p.m., my time is scheduled. That's rather a lot of time doing what other people want me to be doing.
And how will the Belle hold up? She barked and cried this morning when I ran to the corner store without her. I know she and the lovely beau will actually get along fine without me (although I'm sure they will both bark and cry when I leave) and I'm excited to see how the two of them bond without me around. I'm afraid exhaustion will get the best of me in moments of constant 'doing' and that I will be resentful or too scared to continue. I know it's only seven weeks- and I get to come home on the weekends, if I so desire.
I like routine- and I like my routine as it is. I can only hope that I am inspired by the fact that I do believe what I will be doing (teaching) is a greater cause than my little fears and exhaustion.

Last night, walking to the car from a party, it suddenly hit me that I might be too old to be peeing on the street. It used to be a semi-regular practice for me- being that you walk a lot in San Francisco and when you've been drinking and the system kicks in, it's often hard to wait until you're at your next destination. So you find a little corner and do your thing. Funny, I just seem to be able to hold it better these days. Or would be terribly embarrased for someone to find me there, squatting.
The times, they are a changin.

With all this free time on my hands, you'd think I would have done something in the way of regular posts.
Here's what I've been doing instead:
* walking bella
* hanging out in the park chatting with other dog owners
* going to my myriad of doctor's appointments that I've been putting off for months
* taking care of the sick lovely beau
* organizing, organizing, organizing
* watching bad tv, often muted
* reading fiction of my choice
* having lots of yummy dinners with good friends who are turning this into a birthday week
* doing loads of laundry
* taking lush baths and using face masks
* waking up every morning believing that martin sheen is the president so that i can manage to make it out of bed

I met a girl in the park the other day. She was really eager to chat & get personal. Fine, fine- I can get personal with the best of them. She then asked for my phone number, which I felt slightly hesitant about. I've met lots and lots of people in the park & exchanged phone numbers with them- after about a month of running into each other EVERY DAY. not after 15 minutes. So, the next day, i get the following message on my machine:
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICOLE! i hope you're having a great day & wanted to see if we could get together for your birthday. Call me.... blah, blah".
Ok, should I run for it or just chalk it up to someone who just moved here & is lonely?

it's my birthday. i'm 28. i got bedding from the lovely beau & kisses from the dog (& the lovely beau).