The M-Word

Greetings from Day Three of Vacation. After a brief client meeting today (siiiigh, yes I'm serious), I headed to Golden Gate Park for some outdoorsy fun in nature....by which I mean that I drove around the outdoorsy natural things, took some great pictures, and didn't really get out and walk or experience any of it first hand. This is about as outdoorsy as Beth gets, folks.

Anyhoo. First stop was the Conservatory of Flowers, which is this fantastic Victorian greenhouse straight out of a corset-busting A.S. Byatt novel. Clearly a hot spot for every retired person in San Francisco. The key here is that it's a HOT SPOT. As in, this place is a freakin' greenhouse and it was about 107 degrees in there, plus it was humid as hell. Dare I say (apologies to Robin here) it was MOIST AS HELL in there. My God, the Moisture! So much Moisture! The plants were dewy and glossy and my brow was feverish from the, ahem, Moisture, in the air. Not a particularly pleasant experience. But there was a butterfly exhibit and some toddlers were getting mighty excited about having butterflies land on them and even Beth's Bitter Heart of Stone had a good chuckle at that.

After the Moistest Experience Ever, I headed to the DeYoung museum, which was packed to the gills with hipsters and arty vacationers. Definitely need to spend more time there - I had to rush through it in order to get the Flexcar back on time.

Oh, and I saw some buffalo in the park. Random as hell. Go Buffs!

Beth Chillaxes at Home Doing Nothing: Vacation Continues!

Well folks, it only took two days of vacation for my super extra diligent vacation schedule to be shot all to hell. Yesterday was full of road trippin' adventures....today not so much. So far I've slept in until the double-digit hours of the morning, caught up on my Law and Order: Criminal Intent episodes on the TiVo (Vincent D'Onofrio, you were so young and thing back in the day!), baked blueberry muffins, made chili and finally gotten around to watching Juno. Swear to Blog that was the sweetest movie EVER.

Okay, so that's actually quite a bit of stuff. I also got to spend some time on YouTube, where I can across this little gem. I'm sure most of America has already seen it, but if you're not a regular viewer of Cute Overload.com, these boys might just make your day. The assertive snuggling has been a proven technique of mine for years.

Snuggly Otters and Sweeping Views: Beth's On Vacation!

Hiya kids and greetings from Vacationville - population ME. I finally got around to taking some time off and am trying to make the most of this week being a tourist in my own city. Yes, I've lived here almost ten months and there are still so many neighborhoods/museums/parks/areas I haven't seen. It's going to be a busy week, that's for sure.

Today started off with some coffee at this little cafe near my apartment that I've been meaning to check out for months. Hi, could it BE any cuter? Then it was a sun-filled drive down Highway 1 past Pacifica, past Half Moon Bay, past Santa Cruz...to Monterey to check out the world-famous aquarium and see if I couldn't steal one of the otters to bring back for Alice to play with.

The aquarium was absolutely amazing, as people told me it would be. It really IS worth the $24 cost of admission, and believe me I was pretty skeptical of that when I started off my tour. Of course the otters are riDONKulously adorable and joyful and snuggly and the educational demo station which teaches kids what their fur feels like just makes them all the MORE riDONKulous because they are super duper VELVETY AND SOFT. This just makes it all the more difficult not to crawl into the tanks with them and fall asleep on their little tummies. Sigh. For $24 I think I should be able to take a baby otter home with me, no?

Curiously though, my favorite creature at the aquarium was not the otters (and don't go making any jokes about the stingrays because those things continue to freak the hell out of me) but this guy pictured here - the black sea turtle. From what I can tell there was only one of them inside this giant wall of ocean fish creatures which made him see so unique and independent. He rocked the whole exhibit. You GO, giant black sea turtle guy!

Tomorrow's going to be museum focused, at least that's my intention at this point. I may end up vegging out and watching bad TV, but I'm trying to stay in the Activity Zone cause once you leave that, man, it's an uphill battle all the way.

Have things I should see over the next four days or so? Let me know....

A quick open letter to my circa 1985 peach Princess Phone

Dear Circa 1985 Peach Princess Phone,

Damn, I've missed you. I mean, look at you. Who couldn't love that? For whatever reason I was talking at work today about Generation X-era technology and you came immediately to mind. No one here seems to remember you because they are all tech savvy Millenial kids, but I DO, Peach Princess Phone. I REMEMBER. I had to scour the Internet to find you, but when I tracked you down, this picture made me grin from ear to ear.

The hours we spent whispering secrets throughout my junior high and high school years will never be forgotten. I hope you're in a better place and still smelling like the Love's Baby Soft I drowned myself in.

LYLAS,

Beth

P.S. Don't tell the Mac Plus and Atari that I've written you, I don't want to have any hurt feelings. You know how they can be.

Beth: Careless Lush or Visionary Trend Setter?

As loyal readers of the World of Beth can attest, I’m a huge fan of Drunk Shopping. I luvs me some drunk shopping. What can I say? Some people run marathons, or play with their kids/soulmates or remodel their lakefront summer homes to relax. Me? I slug back a few oversized glasses of cheap pinot noir and then hit the local Barnes and Noble for some tawdry self-help books.

Just recently someone passed me an AWESOME article in the Los Angeles Times about Drunk Shopping, which officially makes me some sort of tipsy, financially irresponsible visionary as I’ve been doing this for well over a decade before these newbies ever hit the InterWeb. Kids? Back in MY DAY we had to get drunk over cheap well drinks during Happy Hour and then WALK to an old school “brick and mortar” store and then stumble through that store precariously carrying your drunken purchases, potentially tripping and falling smack on your face in the process. Not to say that I’ve ever done that. Oh wait, yes I have. Several times, actually.*

There’s even a book on this topic – methinks I have found my next potential Drunk Purchase. God only know what could happen when Drunk Beth stumbles across the UK ChickLit section of Amazon.co.uk.

* Faceplants and near-faceplants have occurred at bookstores including: City Light Books (San Francisco), Barnes and Noble (Bellevue, Wash.), Half Price Books (Seattle), and Chapters (Vancouver).

I'm not proud of this....

...but first of all, I just learned about MTV's "The Hills" like less than a month ago and it has proven to be more addictive than a vial of crack stuffed inside of a Twinkie and sprinkled with Oxycontin and soaked in heroin (a combination I would imagine to be very, very addictive).

So here I am, just now learning who Spencer is and who Lauren is and why they talk the way they do and struggling to figure out how she makes out with someone with that weird flesh colored beard, but I digress. While the rest of the world has been watching this insanity for two seasons, I'm just now looping myself in in the middle of Season Three. I am so, like, totally behind the curve, yah?

And then - God Bless You Broadband! - I just learned tonight that MTV.com features full episodes of The Hills that you can download and watch online. The whole series to date. Right there at my fingertips.

I can feel the brain cells slipping away now. Don't say you haven't been warned if I start talking like a 19 year old socialite because it will only mean that I have been watching this show for the next 458 consecutive hours.

How is it that MTV was able to make me fall in love with it all over again a mere 20 years after Kevin and Julie had their argument about racism on the front steps of their luxury loft on the first season of The Real World? Don't make me quit you, MTV. Seriously, it's for realsies this time.

Two months later, Beth returns to the blogosphere!

Whoo. Phew. Ahem. Okay, folks, I am back! After two months of not a single post or update to the blog, I am finally turning over a new digital leaf and re-entering the blogosphere. What have y'all been up to? What have I been up to? A quick recap:

Getting a new kitten. I'm pleased to introduce Miss Alice Purrito de la Embarcadero to the world, who likes to run, jump, frolic, leap, scamper and explore every possible inch of this tiny 500 square foot apartment 24/7. Hot damn, kittens are exhausting. I am counting down the days until she becomes a mellow, lazy, cuddly lap cat like all of my other ones have been. That day will come, right? Right?

Visiting Seattle. What a invigorating trip - getting to reconnect with old friends over cupcakes, revisit all of my happy places (Half Price Books, Triple Door, the market, the Westlake Sephora...), do some shopping, drink performance art sake, and enjoy a tater tot omelette all in just three little days. Why did I wait so long to go back home? Why not do it more often? I almost cried when I could see the city from the plane on our descent into Sea-Tac. Home. At. Last. I need to do that more often.

Sprucing Up The Homestead. After some helpful suggestions from a recent houseguest, I'm pleased to say I'm starting to spruce up the apartment. This involves sending off a ton of kitchen and closet-related crap to Goodwill, paring down the book collection and incorporating some new color via throw pillows and about three bags of decorative knick-knacks from Crate and Barrel. Definitely feeling a little better about the place, even if it remains the Loudest Apartment On Earth.

Getting a California Driver's License. Nine months of living in this state and I finally buckled down and got a California license. I don't know why it took me so long. Oh wait, yes I do. This makes it real. This makes California my home. My legal place of residence. This means my Washington license isn't valid any more and that makes me deeply uncomfortable. Sigh. Trying to keep things moving forward instead of lingering in the past, but I have to say that's often easier said than done.

Shopping at Mervyns. Okay, this one I'm not proud of, it just happens to be what I did today on a whim. Everything was 50 percent off. I admit I felt my hipster cred being all but evaporated, what with shopping in the same store where my mom buys her mock-turtleneck shirts and elastic waist Mom Pants, but who I am turn down a $12 black cardigan and $10 t-shirts?

More to come, at least sooner than two months from now....

Beth's Other BFF, George Michael. No, not THAT George Michael

So I guess Beth has been living under a rock, but I just now found out that Michael Cera of "Arrested Development" and "Juno" had this bizarrely addictive and hilarious Internet series called "Clark and Michael." Um, have you seen this thing, World at Large? It's worth spending some time with, if only to see the two guys frolicking a la "Three's Company during the opening credits.

I confess I haven't seen Juno or Superbad, but I did develop a pretty strong obsession with Mr. Cera during his stint at Arrested Development. He may be some sort of super comedic boy genius. Sure he was born in 1988 which makes me feel a wee bit dirty/Mrs. Robinson-esque, but hey, it's not like I want to do anything particularly naughty with him. Maybe a light saber fight in his garage while he's dressed up like George Michael and I'm dressed up like Anne, but that's it.

Um, was that weird fantasty maybe a little too specific there? It's time to go to bed....

Blogging "Neath the Law With My New BFF

Let's face it - this blog is way overdue for some hilarious wackiness, and that's just what my new Boy Crush Jack McBrayer brings to you in this sketch called "Livin' 'Neath the Law" from Funny or Die. I"m sorry, but I could seriously watch this sketch over and over again and never find it getting old. There's another episode available here that teaches "how to keep your bitches in line" that is equally gut-busting. The bulldog pillow? The Georgia accent....the grin....the bangs...it's too much. TOO MUCH I TELL YOU.

Have I gone off the edge? Perhaps a wee bit. But I love Jack McBrayer. Scratch that. I heart him, and you know that's like 10 times more serious than loving someone. I also heart Tina Fey-slash-Liz Lemon, but that's a whole 'nothing blog post in itself.

Happy I'm-A-Okay-By-Myself-Tines Day, folks. Put on your best NBC page jackets and find your own version of Kenneth to obsess over while eating caramels as you suft online all night. It's not sad. No, it's not. Not at all....

An Open Letter to the World of Beth

Dear World of Beth,

What am I going to DO with you people? You leave me no choice but to make a complete and utter cornball out of myself, folks.

To say "thank you" for all of the kind words and support and hilarious headbutting memories of Mrs. Puff just doesn't seem adequate - and yet, it's all I can do. Thank you for the calls and the emails and the text messages and the flowers and blog comments and strippergrams (okay, maybe not...)....thank you for just being there, and for Always Just Being There even when I am infuriating and difficult and distant and retreat from the world for weeks on end. Thank you for getting me through this. Thank you for making me realize that I am not utterly and completely alone. Thank you for supporting me through such an awful decision. Thank you for making me laugh even during tough times.

Thank you for being a friend (cue "Golden Girls" theme song....).

Seriously, you've all been so great. Headbutts and giant bellies for you all.

Murf,
Beth

A really awful, awful decision

Well World at Large, it's with an incredibly heavy and sniffly heart that I've made the decision to send Mrs. Puff to the Rainbow Bridge. We've got an appointment on Tuesday morning.

When I had to make this call with Thomas the Wonder Cat a few years ago, my decision was so much simpler - he had wasted away to just fur and bones and was a shell of his former self. I knew it was time and I was comforted that I had made the right decision for him.

It's not that clear cut with Puff. Where Thomas' decline lasted for several months (too long, I now realize) this has sprung up out suddenly, seemingly randomly, and in less than a month my apartment has been transformed into a 500 square foot pet hospital, filled with pills and special foods and Sub-Q equipment. It's so much to get my head and my heart around. How the hell did this happen?

The most heart-wrenching part is that, despite what the vet has called a "very guarded" prognosis, Puff's still very much her usual self. She's snuggly and alert and headbutting as usual. Still, we're likely talking a matter of weeks or months - they can't say at this point. But I'm enough of a realist to know that these "good days" will not last forever and the time will come when she'll waste away and stop "murfing" at me for food in the early morning and she'll hide under the bed and barf and be in pain all the time. And I can't have that - not for her and not for me, either.

There's a big part of me that feels selfish and cowardly for not doing everything in my power to help save Puff and give her the best care possible - second opinions, alternative treatments, etc. But in the end, the end result will always the same - this is, after all, a disease that can only be managed and treated but never cured. And I can't see her get sick like that, nor can I continue stuffing pills down her throat and making her miserable just to prolong her life. Instead I'd like to remember Puffster as she was....a cranky, opinionated, grossly obese cat with poor grooming skills and an endless appetite for snuggling close next to people while they're sleeping.

Think good Puff thoughts this week....

Update on Puffster

Hey kids.

Yeah, I know. Almost two months since lastt I blogged and boy have I heard about it. The fact is, there haven't been a lot of quirky amusing stories worth blogging about - the holidays came and were lovely....work is plugging along (stressful as always)....it's just same ol', same ol'.

But I've got an update on Mrs. Puff that I wanted to share since I've only told a few about this so far. The Puffster's got "kidney insufficiency." I took her to the emergency room last weekend because she wouldn't stop barfing, and they had to hospitalize her for two days. I took her back for a follow up visit with the vet today and they're really concerned that she's not eating or drinking normally. Despite the fact that her kidney levels are totally normal again, if she doesn't improve on the eating/drinking front in about 3-4 days, then we'll have to think about sending her to the Rainbow Bridge. That's when quality of life issues come into play and that's just not cool with me to play around with.

It sucks. This came out of nowhere and now I've got less than a week to see some improvement before having to make one of the biggest decisions ever. I strongly believe that your pet will "tell you" when it's time for them to go and I'm not getting of those signals yet. This is all just so sudden. Anyway. Just wanted to say hi and thanks for the blogger reminders/nags. More to come soon, I promise. Hopefully with a happier bent. Stay tuned and send good thoughts for Puffster.

And now, some audience questions

Q: Um, holy cow. That's an flippin' awesome tattoo. I mean, seriously.
A: Thanks, but that's not a question.

Q: Where did you GET that thing?
A: Millennium Tattoo, in Fort Collins. It was totally clean, legit, safe, non intimidating and staffed by alterna-hipsters, which is always a nice bonus. Ryan did mine and she was fanTAStic.

Q: Where did you PUT that thing?
A: It's in the middle of my back - which means it passes the Yuppie Professional Dress Attire test plus avoids the whole Tramp Stamp issue. Win-win really.

Q: Does your mom know about this?
A: No. And I'd like it to stay that way, thanks.

Q: But...aren't you like 33 years old?
A: Yes, but....

Q: What, you afraid you'll get grounded or something?
A: Excuse me, have you MET my mom?

Q: I'm asking the questions here!
A: Siiiiigh.

Q: So evidently your mom didn't go with you. Who'd you go with for the tattoo?
A: My junior high co-horts Rena and Chrissy accompanied me. Nothing celebrates 20 years of friendship like a night of body modification.

Q: Did you have other images/ideas you thought about before ultimately deciding on the typewriter?
A: Yes, but they seem kind of embarrassing now in retrospect. I did really like the idea that Rena suggested in the waiting room at the tattoo studio of doing my first car (a '78 Chevette hatchback named Bessie that had pine green glitter paint), but I'll save that for another time maybe. The key was to get something I wouldn't regret 20 minutes later and more importantly 20 years later. The typewriter and the flowers are both very personal and meaningful to me - and the combination turned out much prettier than I could have imagined.

Q: I think I see a question coming from the back. Wait, is that your mom?
A: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Ink Ink, Baby

Well kids, I know it's been a couple of weeks, so hope you all had a nice turkey day with the parental units or whatever form of friends and family you surround yourselves with.

I headed home, as per tradition, to the Mile High Suburbs, where I wandered around Southwest Plaza, made awkward conversation with my dad, ate way too much stuffing, enjoyed a lovely night in downtown Denver and, oh yes, GOT A FREAKIN' TATTOO. Get! Me! Beth is officially a bad-ass. Well, that is if you can call someone with an old-school typewriter tattoo a bad-ass.

I've been thinking seriously about a tattoo for over a year, but the question was always what to get and where to put it. Plus whatever I decided to get would have to pass the "80 year old Beth test" in which I would still find it cool at age 80 and not live with the regret of having Pooh Bear or Morrissey inked permanently on my body which would have been the case had I done this back in my college days without really giving it some real thought and plenty of time.

But the typewriter seemed like something that is just very....me. The pink flowers remind me of my first apartment in Seattle that had a Magnolia tree in the courtyard that bloomed every Spring.

I lurve it. I really do. It was totally worth the wait and the effort and the pain and the money. And now, let's open it up for questions from the audience.

Two words. Ham Soda.

After two years of sampling their spite-inducing seasonal variety packs, it looks like the folks at Jones Soda finally got an AP story written up about them. Go, Jones Soda, Go!

Let’s hope it drives more people to gather ‘round with friends and family to sip unusual and foul-tasting sodas into Dixie cups while airing their grievances. Perhaps I could shoot for Jones Soda to be the official sponsor of Spitesgiving?

Whaddya say, Jones Soda, are you down for it?

What's next, cell phones and email accounts?

In more “Beth Jumps on A Popular Tech Bandwagon WAAAAAY Too Late” news, I’ve created a Facebook page. Yeah, I realize the rest of you hipster young people were doing this years and years ago when you were in college, but I’m a little slower and older than y’all so cut me some slack. In all honesty, I can’t guarantee how often I’ll be updating my page….but I’m hope it will be more productive and current than my ill-fated MySpace page which I look at and udpate about once every….oh right, never.

Props to those of you who’ve poked me, thrown yams at me and written on my wall – nice to see old friends and familiar faces! Any tips on cool apps I need to check out and incorporate into my page?

Beth Gets Moxi-fied

In what has proven to be my most rewarding and smug moment to date in the Bay Area, I have found a new, brilliant hairstylist that was both achingly hip but still refreshingly approachable and down to earth. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Rebecca from Moxi. She is my new hair stylin’ BFF. No judgmental head-to-toe once overs and sneers about the condition of my hair color (you hear that, Cheyenne?). Instead, Rebecca made terrific recommendations for my cut (bangs, people, bangs!), made further edgy recommendations for my color the next time I visit (Beth’s going chestnut!), plus her assistant gave me a scalp massage that practically put me to sleep purring right in the styling chair.

I heart her.

Plus the fact that she actually used to train other Aveda stylists across the West Coast, including my old stylist Ruthie at Habitude, in Seattle, gives her all the more street cred in my mind.

By far, however, my most favorite-est part of my Moxi-infused morning was when the adorable receptionist asked me if she could (first) bring me some chocolate to go with my coffee (Hello? Is a foot rub by Colin Firth next?) and (second) if she could change the track on the music playing overhead because it made her want to “kick babies.” Something about that seemed hilarious to me. Apologies to those of you who actually HAVE babies, I don’t actually advocate that behavior, but it sure is ridiculously funny when someone says it out loud.

The Library Fetish Continues....

In a very typical Beth move, I can now say I am in proud possession of a San Francisco library card. This in itself isn’t all that amazing, but I don’t even have a California driver’s license or rental insurance yet so it’s a clear indication of where my priorities evidently are. Must! Access! Free! Dogeared! Books!

I’ll confess, San Fran’s libraries don’t seem to be able to compare to Seattle’s classy glassy hipster haven, but they seem to have their own old school charm. I even made my first visit to my neighborhood library branch in North Beach last week and can report that our little library is smack out of Mayberry – that is, if Mayberry had an impressive collection of Manga comics and Beatnik literature. Where else can one walk away with an old Garbage CD and an anthology of stories about being an only child?

And the people gathered. And there was a kitten. And they were all Very, Very Spiteful. Spitesgiving 2007!

It was with great bitterness and angst that the Friends of Beth kicked off this year’s third annual Spitesgiving gathering last weekend at the SSB casa in West Seattle. Good food, good friends, good wine and, um, did I mention there was a bebeh kitten there named Owen who was freakin’ ridiculous? And that SSB’s new house could substitute as a panda sanctuary with all of the bamboo growing around it?

Despite being delayed for five hours at the airport while the plane waited to fly in an auto pilot (see picture when he finally arrived), I made it back to Seattle for a whirlwind 40-hour Spitesfest. Seriously, the timing for Spitesgiving could not have come at a better time. I have been looking forward to this event for the past month – I needed Spitesgiving this year – and truly, it did not disappoint.

There were awesome souvenir coffee mugs. With turkeys on them. Really disgruntled, pissed-off turkeys.

There was a DVD of the first season of Beverly Hills 90210 airing almost constantly, which was fan-freakin-tastic.

There was Miss Spitesgiving 2007, i.e., Ginners, who made her first in-person appearance rather than phoning it in during the dinner hour.

There was the Ceremonial Tasting of Something Awful – which consisted this year of a Seattle Seahawks-themed collection of Jones Soda – including such spite-inducing flavors such as perspiration, turf, dirt, sports cream and finally sweet victory. The perspiration smelled and tasted sickeningly just like what you’d think it would, but strangely enough, the ointment flavored soda really wasn’t that bad (rather minty).

We then went into my absolute favorite part of Spitesgivng, which is the Airing of the Grievances. I kicked off with a two page list of things I am bitter about, including how noisy the street outside my apartment is, classic quotes from parental units, and the fact that the pigeons in San Francisco don’t move or fly away when you get close to them. They just stand there. Defiantly.

There was an amazing feast too, including turkey, Stove Top dressing, mashed sweet potato yumminess, green bean casserole, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie.

And then it was over – just as soon as it began, it seemed. But we shall carry the spirit of Spitesgiving in our hearts all year.**

** Except for Eric, who gets a spiteful shout out because he was a wuss and didn’t make it this year. What. EVER.

Cheese! School! Cheese School!

Engh! Engh! Readers! Hey! (envision Arnold Horschack-esque sqirming and arm raising...)

Alert! There. Is. A. Cheese. SCHOOL. Two. Blocks. From. My. House. Where they teach you? About cheese? And how to eat cheese? And what to serve with cheese? And where you get to, again, eat really good cheese??? Head spinning. Palms sweating. Homer Simpson-like drooling beginning.

North Beach, you just earned another significant notch in your belt as being a cool place to live.