Don't get used to the posts

I'll soon be flying to San Diego with Jeremy to celebrate New Years 2007. Linda is going to pick us up at the airport and drive us to a house that's been rented in Rosarito, Mexico. There we will be joined by a posse of people I have never met before and the festivities will begin! I'll be away from a computer for several days, thus there will be no posts.

Sadly, my steady date will not be joining us on the Mexican adventure. He's currently in Utah, on a family-fun style ski trip. I'm trying not to feel too disappointed about the New Year's kisses I'll be missing, since it is primarily my fault. I'm a lousy skier and had a lot of fun with my family already this holiday season, so heading south seemed like the clear choice over Utah. I think that as a team, Jeremy and Linda will make a fabulous stand-in New Year's eve date. They've got it all... Looks, brains, super sarcastic senses of humor, booze, and a rental house in Rosarito. Plus, I hear they're both real good kissers.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Design by MUNI

On a lot of the MUNI trains and buses, they have this little sign up near where the driver sits. It says, "INFORMATION GLADLY GIVEN BUT SAFETY REQUIRES AVOIDING UNNECESSARY CONVERSATION."

I've often thought that phrase would be great on a t-shirt, and that MUNI should make them and sell them online to earn some extra money to run the J Church more than once an hour.

Annulment in Oregon

Over the holiday, one of my friends mentioned that his marriage was actually annulled. It was previously understood that he got divorced. My mom, sister, and I were trying to figure out what the differences in grounds for a divorce vs grounds for an annulment are. I always thought it had to do with the amount of time that the marriage actually lasted. My sister (who works in a law firm and is surrounded by attorneys who seem to enjoy answering random legal questions) checked up on it and sent an email this morning, writing:

"Apparently in the state of Oregon there are very few grounds for legal annulment which include:

1) one of the parties was married at the time of remarriage
2) the parties are cousins or better
3) fraud
4) parties were incompetent at the time they entered into the marriage (they were minors or had some mental illness etc.)
5) parties were forced into marriage

The law states nothing about a time limit on annulment. Interesting, eh?

Also, there is the type of annulment that happens in the Catholic Church, but a marriage that was annulled in the Church would have to be legally dissolved somehow either by annulment or divorce."

That clears that up. Now I'm a little perplexed about this guy and his ex-wife/not wife. Does he suffer mental illness? Did he accidentally confess to me that she was really his cousin? What constitutes fraud in a marriage? When Britney Spears married that guy in Vegas, did they get a divorce, or did they have it annulled? I'm sure she could have made a case for mental illness.

We'll call them New Year's resolutions

I have a couple things that I don't particularly want to do, but need to take care of soon. Getting these things done would be a relief, since I've been putting them off for months. Supposedly one of the best things you can do to help yourself accomplish goals is declare them publicly, so here you go:

1) I will join a gym before the end of January. The Bay Club and the YMCA are both still on the short list. Crunch, 24-Hour, Equinox, and Sports Club LA are all officially out.

2) I have to finish the motorcycle class and get my license. I'd like to give this the same end of January deadline, but it seems overly ambitious. I'm shooting for the end of February.

If only Sally had a blog

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, December 27, 2006 2:40 PM
Subject: RE: fabulous!


Can I blog a picture of how swollen your face was after your surgery?

I haven't posted anything in about a zillion years and I'm looking for new material.

RB


12/27/2006 03:13 PM

To
"'RBrownin
cc

Subject
RE: fabulous!

Are you serious? Your friends already make enough fun of me without seeing me look like Alfred Hitchcock. I guess you can post it as long as you keep it academic... no comments about drooling.


-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, December 27, 2006 3:30 PM
Subject: RE: fabulous!


Well, I don't have to. Got anything else interesting?

RB


12/27/2006 03:31 PM

To
"'RBrownin
cc

Subject
RE: fabulous!

Hmmm.... not really. You could write something about how Tony Blair flies commercial. I think that is a bit odd.

The new Blogger

I have been trying to convert this blog to the new, non-Beta version that Google has been pushing since back when I actually posted stuff. Today, I think the site decided to let me make the switch, but it has taken an hour so far and I'm still getting nothing but "Your account is currently moving to new Blogger. You will get an email when your move is complete." Kinda seems like the brainiacs at Google should be able to translate my silly blog to Punjabi and beam it to Mars in under an hour, while doing calculus problems on a treadmill. Why the hell is this taking so long?

Once I'm up and running on the new Blogger, I'm considering giving RBlog a whole new look to renew my interest. At the very least, I needs a format that is more photo-friendly. If you have suggestions, make them now.

I'm slightly worried that the promotion of the new Blogger is an early sign that Google is going to start charging for this service. Those worries are fueled by the fact that I've never been able to figure out how Google makes as much money as it seems to make. My favorite rumor about how cool it is to work for Google is that they have an on-campus gym with the equivalent of swimming pool treadmills. I don't know what they're called, but they're mini lap pools where you swim in place against a big jet of water. My second favorite rumor about Google is that the big black buses with the tinted windows that have been spotted in the evenings around Noe Valley and Cole Valley are Google buses, sent to pick up and drop off employees... urban-chic school buses that shuttle between the city and Mountain View.

It's been an hour and a half now. This is ridiculous.

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Okay. Biker Dad has been sitting in this space forever and you're sick of it. I get it.

I'm not sure why, but blogging has not held the usual zing for me over the last couple of months. And I suppose that is obvious at this point. Mostly, my excuses have been that I have no time and nothing to say, though it's clear that neither of these things are true. Or at least they are no more true than they have been at other points in life, during which I was a determined and dedicated blogger.

I suspect that I've just been side-swiped by a case of general malaise this fall. I would liken it to a small period of depression, but that sounds so extreme and unattractive. Nothing has really held the usual zing over the last couple of months and I've been cranky. Salty, as the Jo-tel would say. Shark-like. I was sad to see the end of summer and never really got over it. I'm sure some of this mood is related to all the seriousness and focus required by the new job. Maybe it's the weather? I am damn tired of working full-time and always having school stuff hanging over my head... lurking in the background. That's for certain. I'm sure my failure to join a gym after canceling my last membership in September contributes, as well. In fact, it's probably at least 50% of the problem.

I flew back to SF this morning, after a week in Portland, and the brighter light quality, proximity of my own bed, and the completion of the Christmas have me feeling very optimistic and ready to take action. I expect that I a little blogging will help me sort myself out in the New Year. Watch this space for actual posts. Coming soon!

Biker Dad

Since you had a chance to read his advice on riding, I thought I would also share a pic of my Dad on his motorcycle.

My hog

This is the bike I was riding yesterday:




Well, not the exact one, but the same model and color. I think it's pretty cute and it kind of made me feel like a bad ass. One perk to riding a motorcycle is that it doesn't ever look hard, even if you are nervous and don't know what you're doing. I was watching people get on the bikes and go through the drills and they all just looked cool.

Maybe it's too much, too fast

I spent yesterday, from 11ish to 5ish, learning to ride a motorcycle. I am really, really tired today. The class starts up again at 11ish today, but I am not sure I'm going to make it, for several reasons including the following:

1) I think it's going to rain.

2) I need to write a paper.

3) My hands and shoulders are super sore, probably because I was too tensed up yesterday (also, I was really surprised by how much the motorcycle weighed and how much you have to control that weight)

4) I value my life.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not giving up on the motorcycle thing, I just think I need a little more time to process it all. I'm not sure I would agree this is a course for beginners, unless you are a beginner that has your own bike to practice on/have been practicing a bit, or are a beginner who is a regular driver of a car that is stick shift. That is really what it comes down to, and I am not either of these things. The exercises went pretty fast. I had never even turned on a motorcycle before, and within a couple of hours we were speeding around in big loops, accelerating, braking, and shifting between second and third. It seemed a little quick to me. I'm pretty good once it gets up to speed, great at shifting gears up and down once I get going, and not bad at all with the steering and swerving and weaving in and out of cones. Unfortunately, I struggle with the clutch, and kill the bike about 35% of the time I try to take off. I could also be smoother with the stops.

I know it's just a timing thing and requires some practice, but my tendency to kill the bike at take off gets me all flustered and unable to focus. Plus, I would not describe the male instructor (there were two with our group, a man and a woman) as incredibly supportive or nurturing. I would actually describe him as kind of an asshole. So, while it's really not that big a deal to kill the thing, especially when you're learning, his impatience made me feel like I totally sucked. Being embarrassed and flustered is not conducive to concentration.

Today (day two of training) we're supposed to be refining our basic skills. Practicing things like tight turns, driving over obstacles (I think we have to drive over 2x4s), and taking our final test. I want another day to practice the basic stuff, so I think I'm going to reschedule the Saturday/Sunday combo for next weekend and have three days of training all together. Part of me feels like a weenie, but I would rather feel confident on the bike than just barely pass and feel like I rushed through the whole thing and only got the gist. I want to do it at my own pace and feel good about it. Even though yesterday's lessons were a lot of work, and yeah -- kinda hard for me -- it was also super, SUPER fun when I'd master something well enough to loosen up and enjoy it.

Why I shred my junk mail

Some have rolled their eyes like I am an obsessive compulsive nut job, but this post from Load proves that it's not a bad idea to shred your junk mail before you toss it out. Especially if it comes from a credit card company.

Another weird dream

I think I went through all of last year without ever remembering a dream. But lately, I've been dreaming a lot.

The other night I dreamt that the skin from my lower lip to my collar bone was dissolving. You could see my teeth and there were holes going all the way through into my throat and windpipe. There was no blood or oozing. The holes were black and crumbly -- maybe moldy? -- almost like I had become a zombie or something. No real plot to the dream other than the fact that I was grossed out and didn't really know what to do about it.

Photos I've been meaning to post since September

As I mentioned, Ross flew me out to D.C. in late September. I got to meet Jack, and I think it's safe to say we hit it off. Our time together has made me re-evaluate my previous opinion that babies are scary and gross. Some babies might be okay.

Here are a couple of pics...




Geez, he's cute.




Yes, that's Jack-drool in my hair.







In fact, the whole clan is pretty cute all around.

Men and their hair

Dudes, I'm curious... how much do you pay for haircuts? I got into a debate about this the other night, and my opponent was arguing that no "normal" guy spends money on their hair. However, my experience tells me that when it comes to hair there are three categories of men:

1) Those with buzzers who cut their own hair, spend next to nothing on it, and care very little how it looks.

2) Those who got to a barber (this is usually $25 or less).

3) Those who go to a stylist, might be described as "metro," and are usually very well groomed (stylist = around $40 to $50 a visit).

I don't really have a feel for which group is the largest, though. What do most guys spend on their hair? Leave a comment and let me know. Tell other guys to leave comments too, because I suspect I'll need a fairly big sample to be able to draw any convincing conclusions here.

Advice from dear old Dad

My Dad is also a motocycle rider and sent this via email:

"Apparently, some friends are suggesting that you consider a motorcycle in preference to a scooter. A big caution at this point. Every person I know who is a rider will offer this advice... start small (in terms of engine size) and work your way up. The bike I restored and ride (a Honda CL 350 Scrambler) has a 350cc engine and is faster than a bat outta Hell. More power than I would ever need. Unfortunately, a lot of folks who are entering (or returning to) the world of motorcycles buy one of the big ones (something over 650cc) because they 'wanna go fast.' And they do. Interestingly, the mortality rate has jumped considerably because of this market segment.

Smaller bikes (whether they are scooters or motorcycles) give the rider time to become familiar with traffic and handling while not overpowering the novice. Nimble, they will have plenty enough power for around town types of riding. Getcha up and down the hills of San Francisco without a sweat. And do know that scooters have plenty of 'oomph.' Some of those little guys will do 65 mph (and believe me, 65 mph on a bike is plenty fast). While it is true that a motorcycle generally has more power and versatility than a scooter, scooters are not powerless by any means. Don't allow yourself to be talked into something - go with what you feel comfortable.

Finally, this... Is riding a motorcycle fun? Definitely, yes! Is it all fun? Definitely, no. The one important lesson that you will learn in the MSF course is that you MUST adopt a completely different mindset from auto driving when you scoot. Concentration and defensive driving are the essentials of staying alive out there. Yesterday I had a driver nearly force me into the curb when he simply pulled into my lane. No warning, no signaling. Since I was small and nimble enough I could just pull over and let him in. I hit and held my horn. Even then it took him some time to react. When he did he just shrugged his shoulders and smiled. He then went back to talking on his cell phone and adjusting his radio. He, and a lot of drivers just like him are out there. Had I not being paying attention to him BEFORE he made his move, I may not have had enough time to react properly to his lane change.

The moral of this little story is that you really have to be 'ON' when you are riding. It is fun, but you cannot let the fun aspect cloud your personal responsibility to your own well being. In other words, be careful out there."

Goodbye five hundo, hello suit

I bought a suit today. In my book, buying a suit is like buying luggage or insurance. You pretty much have to have it, but you're definitely not happy about spending money on it no matter how good it might be. Suits are expensive, but no matter how good they are they still make you feel frumpy and un-hot.

It's probably different for guys. Pretty much every guy I know looks better in a suit than not in a suit, so I assume most dudes like wearing them. The only thing a suit really does for me is make me look like I'm not an undergraduate, which can be useful depending on the situation. Next on the list is some kind of non-backpack, adult-style luggage to put the suit in.

It's on

I finally got myself signed up for the motorcycle lessons. I should know how to ride and be set to get my license before Thanksgiving. The course includes one-five hour classroom session and two days of riding, all in the third week of November.

There's been pressure on me from several different sources (all male) to skip the Vespa and just get a motorcycle. I'm considering it, but the motorcycle intimidates me a little. It would allow for greater speed and maneuverability, which might make it a safer option. It might be the speed that freaks me out, though.

I need to figure out how often I would actually want to take a motorcycle out of the city. That's the big benefit of a motorcycle over a scooter. You can't take a scooter on the highway because they don't go fast enough. It's unlikely that I would ever ride a motorcycle to class in Berkeley, especially after a work day. Business casual -- skirt, heels, etc. -- doesn't really work on a bike going over the Bay Bridge. Could be super fun to ride to the beach on a sunny weekend, though.

I should move to Arizona

Sometimes I think that all I need to be happy is a little more sunshine. The weather around the Bay has been super summery and I've been blissfully floating through the weekend. I spent most of the weekend down in South Bay or over in Berkeley, which amps up the sun factor even more. I even have a touch of a sunburn from watching the game yesterday, which for those of you who didn't see it, was pretty kick ass. I am the constant proponent of leaving in the third quarter, but this game had me on the edge of my seat until the end. Somehow, I now actually care about Cal football. When did that happen?

No more hot sauce before bed

I'm supposed to be writing a two page paper about tort law or product liability, so of course I'm blogging up a storm.

I had this crazy nightmare last night that I was pregnant. It used to be a recurring nightmare for me back in college. There were many different variations, but nothing as intense and scary as this one. In this particular dream, I'm pretty pregnant by the time I've realized I'm pregnant -- like four or more months -- and my belly hurts, so I'm terrified that there's something wrong with the baby. In the dream, the guy who helped me get pregnant doesn't want me to have a baby, and has little interest in discussing the problem with me. We are touring empty lots and construction sites and I am trying to start a conversation about it. I know I don't want to raise a kid on my own, and am really not ready to be a mother at all, so I don't really want to have a baby either. However, the pain and movement in my belly is sharp and I am terribly worried that something is wrong with the baby and it's not going to be okay. The whole nightmare is filled with not knowing what to do about the pregnancy, being unable to make any decisions about it, but also being absolutely terrified that the baby is hurt or dying and feeling like I love it and want it to be okay more than anything. And on top of that, my whole body was covered in dark purple varicose veins that are a complication of the pregnancy.

Pregnancy must be common subject matter in women's dreams. I'm sure this a straightforward anxiety dream, but it makes me suspect I may be stockpiling a little more anxiety in the back of my brain than I previously thought.

Regret

Should you ever find a mysterious bottle of "Habanero Yucateca" hot sauce in the back of your fridge, do not think to yourself, "How hot could really it be?" and apply it liberally to your bland dinner. Because it is HOT, my friend. Much too hot for your sensitive stomach and any yuppie burrito with sweet potatoes. It is also not likely to mix well with antibiotics.

Haas rankings up across the board

We got another excited email from the dean last Friday. Among other things, he wrote:

"I am delighted to report that the Haas School ranked #8 in BusinessWeek's ranking of full-time MBA programs released yesterday afternoon. This is the first time that the school's MBA program has ranked in the top ten of this ranking, and it was a rise from #17 the last time BusinessWeek MBA rankings came out.

BusinessWeek highlighted Haas, saying that 'The combination of a small class, exceptional faculty, and a collegial atmosphere impressed students.' ... ' Recruiters, meanwhile, were wowed by the quality of the grads.'

In addition to the overall rank, the Haas School was featured this year for having a top-five entrepreneurship program and a top-ten marketing program.

BusinessWeek bases its ranking on feedback from both the full-time MBA class of 2006 and corporate recruiters as well as on faculty research."

I need to find a way to get myself geared up about school again and start taking advantage of all of this.

Quarantined

I have strep throat. Gross. Do a google image search and you'll see what I mean. After a week of doing my best to ignore a horrible sore throat (and pretty much just going to work, coming home and going to bed immediately), I finally sucked it up and went to the doctor. I sat in the Urgent Care waiting room for three hours, they did the swab, and the next morning I got the good news. Now I have about a week and a half's worth of antibiotics to get through. Eighteen hours of antibiotics in my system have already resulted in drastic improvements, thank god.

If I understand the situation correctly, I will have been on antibiotics for enough time to no longer be contagious in about three hours. My roomies will be delighted!

I hate junk mail

And I may have found a way to stop it from being delivered to me. Or at least a way to stop most of it. Some Haas kids started up a new service at www.greendimes.com. For three bucks a month, they will stop your junk mail and plant a tree in your name. For $36.00 you get no junk mail for a year and twelve trees. A bargain, in my opinion.

How does it work? Here's how they explain the service:

"We’ve built a database of all the major direct marketing companies (aka junk mailers) and we send a request to remove your name and address from their mailing lists. These companies are required to remove you from their marketing lists. Also, using the Federal Fair Credit Reporting Act we direct them not to sell, share, or trade your personal information with other companies. Then, to make sure they don’t put you back on their lists, we’ll check up on them regularly."

Needless to say, I'm excited. I hope this service will decrease the amount of time I waste shredding the billions of pre-approved credit card offers I get each week. And for those of you who have argued with me that credit-related junk mail does not pose a threat of identity theft, the greendime people also have this to say:

"One of the most popular ways to steal your identity is to take mail from your mailbox and use the personal information inside the junk letters such as credit card offers."

Really, you should get yourself a shredder. Or at least sign up for this service.

Speaking of cute

In sticking with the crazy cute theme, earlier this week Matti K announced that he has adopted.

Meet Bailey:





Bailey is a seven-month old wiener dog. I was already excited about visiting Matt when I head to NYC next month, but now I am envisioning scenes of us walking Bailey in Central Park, wrapped in scarves... we'll buy roasted nuts from one of those street vendors and Bailey will frolic in fall leaves... then maybe someone famous, like SJP, will jog past us... Oooooooh, I can't wait!

Surfacing

Last weekend I flew out to Washington DC to surprise Clare on her birthday. I was there until late Tuesday night, without a laptop or any school work. The fun of shirking responsibilities, paired with the warm sunny weather in DC, allowed me to fully revert back to summer vaction-style happiness. Spending time with Clare and her family was such a wonderful break. It's amazing how a couple of days away can reconnect you with your goals and ambition and make you excited about life. It has to be the right couple days, though. Maybe it's more about spending those days with the right people.

My trip was the doing of Clare's kick-ass husband Ross. As a result, Ross is pretty high up on the list of great guys -- on both Clare's list and my list. Flying out a friend is a super cool birthday present, and Clare genuinely had no idea what he was up to. Until I have a husband of my own, I think Ross will hold the title of best husband around.

I can't resist throwing in this picture of Ross and Jack, because they're just so dang cute.

New sign-up date

The next time I can call to sign up for motorcycle classes is Tuesday, Oct. 3, and apparently I need to call at 10 am sharp. Who knew so many people want to learn to ride motorcycles? Anyhoo, the reminders last time were great, my friends. Now I just need them earlier in the day.

RB screws up

That has been the theme of this week -- me screwing things up left and right. I'm pretty sure I messed up my second business law writing assignment for lack of ability to read his syllabus correctly, I got a little too drunk and pissed off my gentleman companion, I forgot a teleconference appointment and stood people up, the motorcycle classes were already full by the time I called to sign up, I forgot to pay tuition. All that is left on the list is to lock myself out of the apartment, loose my wallet, and get my period and bleed through my white pants. Jeezus.

Kay's new blog

Kay, who is an expert on all things culinary (at least as far as I'm concerned), has started a new blog on topics related to food and restaurants. Dog food, too. She's just getting going with BringerBlog, but check it out and offer up some comments of encouragement, or give her suggestions on sights to see in Paris.

All the dudes I know are about to say, "I told you so!"

But that's okay. I can admit it: The new Zach Braff movie, The Last Kiss was kinda bad. Well, maybe not flat out bad, but certainly not good. The basic premise for the film was to take every phase of a romantic relationship possible (contemplating commitment, married with kid, recent split up, causally dating, married thirty years, etc.) and show how much it completely and totally sucks. Throw in some completely irrelevant sex scenes and gratuitous boob shots, and you have yourself a movie. I'm really not sure there was any takeaway, other than the message that relationships are always going to be imperfect and not entirely fulfilling, so it's really not that big of a deal to cheat.

I'm still at least partially in love with Zach Braff, however. Alright, alright... totally in love.

Inspirational quote of the day

"Worry affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, the whole nervous system, and profoundly affects the health. You have never known a man who died from over work, but many who died from doubt."

-- Charles W. Mayo

NEWS FLASH: Linda moving to the hood!

That's right, Linda is moving to Noe Valley in October. She's going to live about four blocks away from your truly. We'll be neighbors! This is by far the best news I've gotten all week. She's moving in with two female roommates. Here's what she had to say:

"The ladies are awesome. We were sitting outside at Pasta Pomodoro with their little dogs and I was laughing a lot and it just felt fantastic. They're both recent NYC transplants getting PhDs in psychology so they're totally interesting and cool. The room isn't great shakes but the rest of the package feels so good I'm just gonna take it."

I'm so excited I could just about pee my pants. I've already started work on trying to convince her to join my scooter gang. Blonde chicks on Vespas in Noe Valley = bad ass.

Good news for Haas

This update came this afternoon in an email from the dean:

"I am pleased to share the great news that the Haas School ranked #5 in The Wall Street Journal's national ranking of full-time MBA programs published in today's paper. This is the first time that a UC full-time MBA program has ranked in the top five of the major rankings.

The Wall Street Journal bases its ranking entirely on feedback from corporate recruiters, who applauded Haas graduates for their creative and entrepreneurial streak. It also quoted Devan Cross, a survey respondent and special-operations general manager for Pulte Homes Inc., as saying, 'Students at Haas are among the most talented and capable of any M.B.A. program. They are enthusiastic about making a real difference in their careers, particularly if they can do it in a team-oriented fashion rather than in a cutthroat situation. The latter does not suit the typical Haas student.'"

Makes me feel just a little bit better about all those tuition dollars I'm paying (and borrowing).

Motorcycle class

I've determined that the next step in my quest to own a scooter is sucessfully signing up for a class that will teach me how to ride a motorcycle. From what I can tell, the classes available in San Francisco fill up super fast. I need to call as early as possible on Tuesday, September 26 to sign up for classes being held in the last week of October. It will be one Thursday night of classroom instruction, followed by half days on the Saturday and Sunday right after. The weekend stuff is actually on a motorcycle! Wheee!

Please remind me to call on the 26th.

I take all it back

A) I am a weenie. Riding on Hip E.'s motorcycle wasn't scary, it was just super fun -- even on the Bay Bridge. Probably helps that he is a totally safe driver. The whole experience has pushed me even further in my belief that getting a scooter is a fantastic idea. Traffic and parking become complete non-issues. To be honest, I'm not sure why more people don't use scooters or motorcycles in the city.

B) Cal won! Yay Bears! Maybe my season tickets won't be a complete waste of money. Actually, even if the football team does go back to totally sucking, I am now completely obsessed with the marching band. Their half-time routine was all Blondie hits, and it rocked. We also happened to be at the Bear's Lair later when they came back to play the fight song at Sather Gate, so we came out to watch the whole thing... I am well down the road to becoming a Cal Band groupie.

It's good day to die

Hip E. is on his way over right now to pick me up. We're supposed to ride over to the Cal game on his motorcyle. I am absolutely, 100 % terrified. Adrenaline pumping through my body -- the whole works. I suspect this is a sign that I need a little more excitement in my life, as most people don't classify motorcyle rides across the Bay Bridge as an extreme sport. I wish I had a Xanax.

The West Point Inn

I've been meaning to tell y'all about this place for months now. I visted it a few times over the summer. The West Point in is a little lodge with a handful of individual "cold water" cabins (no electricity) up on the top of Mt. Tam. You hike or bike into the place. It's a couple of miles on the Old Stagecoach Road trail from the nearest spot you can leave your car overnight.





The organization that operates the inn does fundraising pancake breakfasts there every month, which make for a nice morning hike (it's really more like a stroll after you stuff yourself with pancakes). However, the coolest thing is that you can also arrange to stay in the cabins. There's a huge, fully equipped kitchen that all of the guests share to prepare meals. You just pack your food and booze, roll in, hang out, and look at the views. It's one of the most relaxing places I've been.





The views, if it's clear, are absolutely amazing. We somehow got lucky enough to be there on a perfectly clear night, with a huge full moon. It was light enough to throw horse shoes at three in the morning (though I will admit to losing one in the bushes, but I think that has more to do with me having terrible aim).



One of the biggest reasons that this place is such an awesome, stress-free escape, is how close to the city it is. Drive for a half and hour, take a little walk, and suddenly it suddenly feels like you're a million miles away from everything. You can easily go on a Friday night after work with minimal hassle.

Jenica covers the Burn

Beloved Jenica went to Burning Man for the first time this year. You can check out a review of her trip (including photos) on her RealTravel blog.

All the Burning Man folk seem to slowly be tricking back into town. Last night we had a late dinner with a fireman who had volunteered to be part of the fire and paramedic crew out at Burning Man. He said bunch of firemen from all over the West head out there and volunteer to take care of any potential emergency situation (there was only one death at Burning Man this year, which is apparently low). The volunteers take shifts, and when they're not on their shift, they party it up like everyone else.

In order to stay in their camp, everyone had to volunteer for some kind of duty. He mentioned a couple of women somehow landed the job of washing the firemen... gets real dusty out there, I guess. Yep, I'm still processing that one. And trying to figure out who to get in touch with to volunteer for such a key assignment.

Another good poo story from Clare

It's been awhile since Clare checked in to update us on any of her adventures in parenting. But, it looks like the wait was worth it. She's got another semi-disgusting story involving Jack, Ross, and a lot of poop:

"It's Saturday. Jackson is seven and a half months old. We're finally getting him to sleep more through the night, and we have a pretty good bedtime routine down. I'm in the bathroom, filling the tub for step 1a in Operation Jack to Bed, Ross is performing step 1b: getting Jackson undressed and ready for his bath. Normally we'd have a fun bath, then get him dressed in fresh diaper and snugly sleeper (steps 2 & 3), give him a final feeding (step 4), and read a few stories (step 5), before putting him in the crib in hopes he'll fall fast asleep (step 6).

I'm thinking through the sequence in my mind, easy to do with the faucet drowning out all other sound, when I realize Ross is yelling for me (he and I were in neighboring rooms, but man, that running water is loud). I turn off the water, and head to Jackson's room -- to a sight I never thought I'd see.

Ross is standing with his back to me, his hands about face level holding Jackson's ankles. What? I did a double take. A poop-covered baby foot is stretched skywards, a poop-covered baby butt is aimed -- dangerously close -- at Ross’s face, and the rest of Jackson is dangling naked over the changing table.

At that point, I REALLY wanted to take a picture but that wouldn't have been fair to Ross who, with hands covered in poop, had little idea how he had gotten into that situation. Apparently his super-dad skills had gone to work, making a quick grab for Jack before he rolled off the changing table (after having just rolled himself through his dirty diaper).

I grabbed as many wet-wipes as I could and went to work quickly so Jackson's head wouldn't explode from all the blood rushing into it (as I understand it, babies are not meant to be dangling upside down for extended periods of time). With tears in our eyes from laughing, Ross and I de-pooped the kid, plopped him into the tub, and plopped ourselves back into our regular bedtime routine. Jackson laughed to whole time, too."

Mourning Shasta

Sadly, I will not be houseboating in Shasta AGAIN this year. Last year I missed it because of B-school orientation (aka the lamest weekend of my life) and this year the entire trip has fallen through. It is truly a tragedy and the only thing we have to blame it on is Turd and Goose's wedding.

Hip E. has chosen a much more positive, optimistic reaction:

"Mark your calendars, people. Next year's Shasta is going to be an explosion of pent-up partying: heat, rage, lust, rock 'n roll, skin, floaty things, beer, aviators, and fun. Missing Shasta two years in a row would indicate the onset of acute Old Age, something that I don't have any time for, and neither do you. I encourage all of you to do something really fun next weekend, and while you're doing it, think about how a year from now you are going to be doing something ten times more funner, on a boat, in a lake, in California, with Peetoom."

More about the scooter scheme

I've been doing more research on scooters:

They get 70 miles per gallon and go 40-100 miles per hour, depending on the model.

If Americans were to switch just 10% of their total mileage to scooters, they would consume 14-18 million gallons less fuel per day and carbon dioxide emissions could be reduced by 324 million pounds per day as well. (Source ICR survey, May 2006)

On an individual level, they could also reduce your fuel consumption by approximately 58%, and carbon dioxide emissions by 80%.

Hip was right about the motorcycle license, and it looks like it will cost anywhere between $400-1000 to insure one of the things for a year.

Don’t tell my mom

I’m thinking about buying a Vespa. I’ve been toying with the idea of getting a car for the last year or so, but it always comes down to it being too much of a hassle (parking in the city, tickets, maintenance, etc.) and too expensive for how much I’d use it. Now that I’m working downtown and don’t have to trek to the East Bay daily, getting a scooter seems to make a lot of sense. I could put a little basket on the back and scoot around town, run errands, do my grocery shopping. A scooter would be easy to park, much cheaper than a car, and super cute, too. I think they come in pink!

Hip E. told me that I need to get a motorcycle license to drive a scooter, so I guess my next step is taking the class to get the license.

Purple Vitamin Water

It's been awhile since I've done a product review, but I am taken with purple Vitamin Water and I want the world to know.



This fruit punchy, gatorade-like beverage, officially called "Revive," is marketed as a hangover cure -- and I think it actually works. I've done extensive testing, and I swear it makes you feel way better after too much boozin'. Supposedly it's the potassium and B vitamins in it that help you out, but I would buy it for the copy on the label alone:

"If you woke up tired, you probably need more sleep. If you woke up drooling at your desk, you probably need a new job. If you woke up with a headache, on a ferris wheel, wearing a toga, you probably need answers, not to mention this product... and if you're like our boss, Mike, and woke up married to an Elvis impersonator, you probably need a lawyer."

Okay, okay. It's not that funny. They change the label every couple of months and the last one was better. I still think it's a miracle cure, though, and highly recommend you pick a few up after your next big night out.

School has started

I'm back in classes as of Monday. Though I've been in a horrible mood this week, I'm pretty pleased with the courses I picked. If all goes according to plan with the waitlists, I'll be taking business law and new business development. New business development basically explores entrepreneurship within companies -- how big old corporations can remain innovative and compete with start-ups in new markets. Since I'm now working for a colossal company that's turning 200 next spring, it seems like it should be useful.

One week of balancing class with the new job finds me coming to terms with the fact that I'm not going to be able to continue my late night shenanigans every night of the week, unless I want to turn myself into the crankiest, run-down bitch in San Francisco. The sad part is that I think the post-class drinks were my favorite part of B-school. Alas, it's time for RB to start acting like a responsible adult.

The recent rough transition to responsible adult has included a lot of business/business casual attire. Seemingly gone are the days of wearing flip flops, jeans, and a "Reading is Sexy" t-shirt to the office. Earlier this week, while out near campus with a bunch of other Haasholes, I was grabbing my bag off a bar stool when I young man (maybe in his early 20s) smiled at me and said, "Don't worry -- we're watching your bag. We're protecting it for you, I swear." I told him I needed my bag because it was time for me to go home. "Aww, don't go!" he says. And at that point in the conversation where it would be commonplace for such a young man to offer to buy me a drink to get me to stay and talk to him, he looks at what I was wearing (white button down shirt with gray stripes, black skirt, heels) and says, "Oh, but I'm sure you have to go to work in the morning." I have never felt so boring and old. Thanks, dude.

Over the next couple months I've got to come up with some gear that is professional and polished, but also sassy. If I'm gonna do this corporate thing, I'm gonna do it with flare.

It's the little things

I have a lot of pretty fabulous benefits at my new job, but there is one thing missing: there's no milk provided in the coffee room. There's just a Costco-sized container of non-dairy creamer. I was told that if we want milk, we have to bring our own into the office. This little thing is driving me to distraction. I'm not organized enough to bring in milk regularly, and the times I have remembered I noticed it just gets consumed by everyone else in the office, anyway. The powder is gross! AND I found out that it makes permanent stains on clothes. Coffee with no powedered creamer comes out in the wash, but the creamer adds some crazy staining component that is impossible to get rid of. Makes you wonder what kinda chemicals are in there, exactly.

I think I might be willing to sacrifice my free MOMA membership for a regular supply of fresh milk.

I don't want to be a Girlfriend

Last week, while on a historic walking tour of Chinatown, I got a fortune cookie containing the following fortune:

"An unexpected relationship will soon become permanent."

Absolutely nothing in life is permanent, but this particular fortune tripped me out a little. There's a certain relationship in my life (which could definitely be described as unexpected) that has recently developed to the point where I find myself wondering, "Am I ready to be a Girlfriend again?"

Girlfriend. The word makes me cringe. It sounds so young and so casual, but at the same time it comes with all of these restrictions and behaviors. It's a role that hasn't always treated me well. I've noticed that being someone's Girlfriend immediately causes me to do all sorts of weird stuff like get jealous, do laundry, make dinners, grocery shop, and go through occasional episodes of pouting and nagging. Not fun. There's also a strong connection in my mind between being a Girlfriend and being taken for granted. Experience tells me that life is far less adventurous and exciting when I'm a Girlfriend. Obviously, I'd prefer to move forward without any of these potential side effects.

But there can be a lot of nice things about having a Boyfriend, if he's a good one. And sometimes you feel so strongly about someone that you really can't fight it, even if you know being his Girlfriend isn't going to be perfect.

Maybe I just need to come up with a different word.

Better leave that one at home

I'm flying to Portland for my high school reunion on Friday. Today my mom called today to warn me that she heard they're not letting some padded bras on planes now. Apparently the liquid in the padded bras that use the little removable cushion of gel in order to appear and feel more authentically boob-like may be a security hazard.

Not that I wear padded bras or anything.

Listen up, Tourists and Suburbanites

You are making me crazy! Either walk up the escalator, or stand your sedentary self on the right side of the thing so people can get around you. Some of us need to get to our new jobs on time.

Just following policy

My new company's blogging policy states that I must include the following text somewhere on my blog:

The opinions expressed here are my own and are not those of my employer. This blog is not sponsored by or endorsed by my employer.

So there it is. When I rave about prosecco and Jake Gyllenhal, I am speaking strictly for myself. And maybe Inga.

Working girl

Sorry about the lack of posts lately. I started my new job last week. The excitement and anxiety of being the new girl in the office has been sucking up a lot of my energy and downtime, not to mention the stack of books and book proposals I'm slowly working my way through.

Sadly, my new employer has an official policy regarding blogging about work (basically, that I shouldn't do it), so I can't write too much about my new gig. I will say that it's the most traditional, corporate, real job I have ever had. For instance, I'm not supposed to wear jeans or t-shirts and I already have a business trip to NYC scheduled. Next thing you know, I'll have one of those little black roller bags and a BlackBerry. All new territory for RB. Maybe they make roller bags in pink?

I will also say that I really like my job so far. It's challenging, dynamic, and super exciting. From everything I've seen, the company seems like an excellent organization to be a part of.

Unemployment is good

This is my big week of freedom. My last day at Avalon was last Friday, but I don't start the new job until next Monday. I must say, unemployment is one of the best things I've ever experienced. I did nothing today. Really -- nothing. I slept until eleven, I drank some coffee, did some reading, a little blogging, sat in the sun, talked on the phone. I am toying with the idea of taking a shower and changing out of my jammies, but to be honest it sounds a little ambitious. Life is amazing in the Bay Area during the summer. It's even better when you have not a care in the world.