we
just got back from

here.

and that was the honeymooon! it was completely fabulous-- slept a lot, ate amazing food, read, relaxed, and got used to calling each other "husband" and "wife". strange days indeed! last night, we got to enjoy the most amazing hot tubs in the world at esalen. from 1-3 a.m., you can go and enjoy for a small fee. mineral baths up at the top of these rocky cliffs, overlooking the ocean, with the moon like a spotlight on the ocean and the sound of the waves. it was a perfect way to end the lovely jaunt. more to come, when i'm not quite so tired from all the resting!

so yeah, i'm, um, getting married in three days.
the big bachelorette party was ananda, her mother, anna & i having dinner. i got crazy and drank CAFFEINATED tea after 8 p.m. can't say a girl doesn't know how to party!
also, every last lady at our table was unanimously (is that spelled correctly? it really doesn't look right to me) in agreement that we would give bill clinton a blow job if given the opportunity. which got brought up because i saw his entourage driving down the freeway this evening. just imagine if HE would have made it to the bachelorette party. i would have different stories to tell.
and now... off to write that ceremony! it's turning out just like every college paper i ever wrote... done at the last possible minute.

H&M is coming to San Francisco!
This is the best news I'm heard since Lush came to San Francisco.

a quick tour of the new casa (& some extra pics, just for fun):


the living room (or part of it)

a little portion of the bathroom (i love the tile)

the kitchen from one angle

and from the other angle

the fold-out ironing board for all that ironing i do!

the tree in the backyard

backyard with found object turned planter box

things grow well here

there are oleanders all over the place

bella enjoys creating dens wherever she goes

here's the wedding dress (pic is not the best)

and a close-up of it

and, of course, the shoes

and just to prove the suburbs haven't gotten me yet!

i am still very, VERY angry at gmail. my email is still not recognizing my password, which i have now come to doubt is correct. i mean, i KNOW it is correct in my rational thoughts, but my irrational thoughts are having their own good time, thinking that i thought to use something *new* or *different* as a password that i was doomed to forget, and therefore be separated from my inbox forever. i have contacted EVERY LAST online "customer support" possibility at google, including their security people. of course, you can only email them via some blank@google.com account. they have all sent me back automatic replies that i have now replied to, saying that THOSE DON'T HELP ME. google does not provide any phone support for any problems, and the receptionist (who you can only get by pressing 0 and letting the phone ring for at least 15 minutes) will not put me through to anyone unless i give their first and last name. they have a dial-by-name directory that i have tried numerous different made-up combinations for, just to reach a real person, all to no avail. there are no smiths or johnsons at google, just fyi.

i am still very, VERY angry at gmail. my email is still not recognizing my password, which i have now come to doubt is correct. i mean, i KNOW it is correct in my rational thoughts, but my irrational thoughts are having their own good time, thinking that i thought to use something *new* or *different* as a password that i was doomed to forget, and therefore be separated from my inbox forever. i have contacted EVERY LAST online "customer support" possibility at google, including their security people. of course, you can only email them via some blank@google.com account. they have all sent me back automatic replies that i have now replied to, saying that THOSE DON'T HELP ME. google does not provide any phone support for any problems, and the receptionist (who you can only get by pressing 0 and letting the phone ring for at least 15 minutes) will not put me through to anyone unless i give their first and last name. they have a dial-by-name directory that i have tried numerous different made-up combinations for, just to reach a real person, all to no avail. there are no smiths or johnsons at google, just fyi.

ways to annoy me at a folk show:

1. stand up. it is a FOLK show, people. there is not a need to dance. most of us are too old to stand for 3 hours anyway. SIT DOWN!
2. be really drunk girl. again people, note the venue. it's not a raiders game. it's folk music. be there to enjoy it or go to a bar and entertain yourself.
3. walk into the crowd, pick a place to stand that is ONE INCH IN FRONT OF ME and park yourself. then act like you don't hear me talking shit about you for the rest of the night. proceed to talk about how you really wanted to "work in a dive bar in new york" and have me get really irritated by your sense of privilege.
4. eat a loud, crunchy apple in the middle of a soft song. i don't even have the words to express how inappropriate you are.

note to self:
maybe not such a good idea to go into a large crowd when in the throws of major pms.

i purchased this shirt today. how cute is that? and a steal at $14.00, if i do say so myself!

i am about 10 seconds away from driving over to google and giving them whatfor. suddenly, my gmail account is not recognizing my password, which, mind you, IS CORRECT. i know my freakin' password. and when it asks my secret question and i type in the CORRECT ANSWER, it tells me it is wrong. i am irate. it is so beyond frustrating. i emailed them (from another account) late last night and got some pat response to inform me that they received me email (duh, i SENT it). when you are a girl at home all day, you must have access to email or you will become a paranoid and angry freak. just to let you know, should you find yourself in a similar situation.

one of the saddest things i've seen in awhile:

stopping by our old downstairs neigbhor's house today with belle, hoping to catch them home (which they were not). bella just stood there with her nose on the doorknob, crying and crying. apparently she misses them. it was just awful to witness.
lucky for her, she is going for a playdate/ baby-sitting session tomorrow night. she doesn't even KNOW yet... i'm keeping it a surprise.

i did not get my daily nap today, partly because of the unbearable heat, but mostly because i could not put down my book. i highly, highly recommend it. the author, siri hustvedt (married to paul auster, for those keep track of such things), writes about art in a way that her words actually form the art she is describing. it was one of the most intriguing books i have read in awhile, and her prose keeps you captivated, while the pace keeps you completely engaged.

in other news, mountain view has a newspaper! in which they keep a crime watch for all the perpetrated crimes committed here. it is a small and paltry list... suspicious persons, hit and runs, car break-ins, and the like. i don't know why i was so intrigued by this discovery of our "newspaper", but i read it cover to cover. i found out the mayor's name, and also that every month he goes to a local coffeshop and sits there and residents can come talk to him. i don't really know what to make of all this. i'm still sort of piecing it all together.

just another evening at home

is anyone in the area interested in doing a big clothing swap? if you've never participated, they are loads of fun, you get all those extras off your hands, and come away with some new2u stuff.

i am at the point where i may burn all my clothes if something new doesn't come in to rotation.

there was another parade downtown today. i'm beginning to wonder if it happens every sunday. i am not at all accustomed to parades, as the only one i've seen in the last 10 years is the GLBTQ parade. very different from scientology marching bands. every time i see a parade in a small town, i am slammed with the memory of the last episode of the wonder years. i cannot even talk about that episode without having a breakdown (michele, vouch for me here). i would love to get it on tape, so i could self-induce those tears whenever necessary, but have so far been unable to find it (also haven't looked very hard, but that seems like a good activity to engage in tonight. instead of writing this very late letter to my father informing him he's not invited to the wedding. really, MUST get hands on wonder years tape asap. even if it takes all night!).

i really need to get my brows waxed.
look forward to other exciting news like this for the next 2.5 months as i just sit around with nothing to do. right fucking on.

went to 8th grade graduation last night. it was mildly amusing, particularly the "poem" read by one of the 8th graders that had a full rhyme scheme of words like "could" and "would" and "hope" and "mope". it was an honest display of the 13-year old mind hard at work. i was amazed at the hairdos of the ladies graduating. the twists and turns and ups and downs and curls and whirls were practically displays of art.

sweet jesus, it's over. over. i cannot really believe it.
save a graduation ceremony this evening, and then i can kiss middle schoolers good-bye until august. it's a beautiful thing.

and now... here comes the bride.
i have refused to do any wedding planning until school was over, so you know my mother is showing up at my door bright & early tomorrow morning to GET GOING ON THIS WEDDING THAT IS ONLY 2 WEEKS AWAY.

only one more day of school.
4.5 hours and a graduation ceremony and IT WILL BE OVER!

in accomplishments for the year:
i heard through the grapevine today that the special ed department is refusing to place students at the school where i teach in the closet. they have declared that it is not fit for students. i credit myself for this, as i have been bitching and moaning (and making very valid arguments) about this all year. score one for me (& all the future students who will not have to endure this awful situation).

well, bella is now a dog on a daily anti-anxiety medication and a prescription for valium. i really hate being a person who has to psychoanalyze my dog, but i also hate being a person who loses her favorite pair of jeans, among other sundries. we got a lot of good advice from the vet, who has a dog with similar anxiety issues as bella. it made me feel better to know i'm not doing something horrible to her.

and none of you readers got the parade question right. since i'm sure you've thought of nothing but 'who were those gosh darn paraders in mountain view on sunday', i will go ahead and tell you. it was the church of scientology. with their band. does it get any more disturbing?

scary suburbia
i'll give you a prize if you can guess what group was having a full-on parade (bands & all) down the main street of my new town yesterday.

things we have tried (unsuccessfully) to keep bella from destroying our house while we are away for brief intervals:

day 1: put her in the kitchen with a child's gate. she has never been able to get over a child's gate before! it will be perfect.
result: she jumped over the gate and chewed pieces of the armoire.

day 2: leave her in the garage. there is really nothing in there to chew, besides large pieces of furniture.
result: the human eye does not see the things to chew. the dog eye saw the carpet on the stair leading to the garage, and the cat door on the door.

day 3: try the garage again.
result: all clothes and sheets in the hamper were DESTROYED (including my favorite sevens jeans).

day 4: purchase a $110 pen for her. try it out in the store. she cannot escape. it is perfect!
result: lifts pen from underneath. escapes. only chews a random water bottle in the garage.

day 5: we will bolt the pen to the wall. the tension will make it so she cannot escape from underneath.
result: she escapes regardless and pulls down every last cleaning supply bottle from the shelf, leaving the garage looking like a hurricane hit it.

day 6: replay of day 5. add a dose of human ativan in hopes that it will relax her.
result: see day 5.

day 7: after careful thought and a run to home depot, we bolt the pen from the bottom INTO THE CONCRETE FLOOR.
result: bella has chewed through the motherfucking metal pen! her head is stuck in between the broken metal slats within 10 minutes. we rush in to save her.

week-long conclusion: the dog will kill herself before she allows us to leave her alone peacefully. it is such a disaster. i'm plum out of ideas, save renting her her own house with nothing in it to destroy. this is just so out of control. clearly, she is not adjusting well to the move.

postscript:
day 8: leave her in pen, bolted to the concrete floor and the wall. have terrible thoughts all day of coming home to dead dog, suffocated from head being stuck between two slats of metal all day long.
result: the fucking bitchass UNHOOKED THE PEN FROM THE FLOOR and chewed more clothes and misc. garage items. how does a dog manage that? they do not have thumbs. conclude she is houdini.

i gots meself a fotolog.

today i tried to use scare my students.
they have this little, tiny, barely-a-problem habit of intermittingly screaming and shaking their desks in the middle of class without any sort of provocation. now, as you can imagine, this is every so slightly annoying at times when you are trying to talk, or teach, or do anything at all.
when one of my students started doing this today, i stopped the class. i said "there is only week of school left, and i'm going to give you a little bit of advice for when you move on to high school, or college, or jobs, or anyplace in real life. when you scream like that for no reason, they will take you away to a very special place called a mental institution. they will think you are crazy if you just start screaming for no reason. a mental institution is even worse than jail."

izzzzz my birfday!
now i am 29.
the day included
- a 6:30 a.m. wake-up call from my mom, singing.
- a day of not teaching (prepping instead)
- leaving early (shhhhh....)
- a nap
- lovely prezzies
- sushi
- ice cream

i think it will be a good year.

if i see one more goddamn book about a single, 20-something woman living in nyc and trying to make it as a writer, actress, publisher, magazine editor, pr person, et.fucking.cetra I WILL PUKE. is this not the most overdone story line? bridget jones was fine- fun, light, original. it was NOT a template for every young female writer to follow with their own shallow and lame stories. it's as over as reality tv shows, but as always i am ahead of my time in terms of what needs to be obsolete.

tomorrow i enter my last year of my 20's. so maybe i'm just bitter.

i could regale you, dear reader, with tales of being called a bitch and flipped off today, but i'm beginning to bore myself with that act.
instead, i will let you know that only country music can include in its' lyrics "a sippy cup of milk" and not be joking.