Tagged Again

My friend Christa, who has a wonderful blog called Hyperlexicon, tagged me. Thanks, Christa, I needed an excuse to do a blog posting anyway!

What were you doing 10 yrs ago?
I was working at an affordable housing nonprofit as a fundraiser. I was a member of the same book group I'm in today. I lived in a cute studio on 14th Street (now I live on 18th Street, and both buildings are owned by the same annoying landlord), by myself with my two cats, who have both passed away. I was dating sporadically and struggling with my health a lot.

Snacks I enjoy
Barbecue potato chips
Rice cakes with almond butter
Chips and guacamole
Extra sharp cheddar and pretzels
Tartine chocolate chip cookies
Ben and Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie and Coffee Heath Bar Crunch

Five things on my to-do list today (Today is a very good day)
Go to Zeitgeist and play Scrabble
Buy spring-y flowers
Do laundry
Eat
Sleep

Things I would do if I became a billionaire
I have fantasized about this before, although I was thinking of it more in millions, so I have a ready answer.

Start a foundation. My key causes would be stopping corporate domination and supporting women in developing nations. Maybe I'd also start a music prize like The Mercury Prize for American music. I would also create an endowment for the nonprofit I work at now.

I'd create trusts for my close relatives and friends, so that their needs for housing, retirement, education, etc. were met.

I would buy a four bedroom house in San Francisco (a bedroom for me and T, a bedroom for our future child, a guest room, and an office) with a dining room (something I've always dreamed of having). And I would have a glorious time buying modern furniture and art by local artists.

And I'd travel with T. And buy lots of shoes (see the Fluevogs above.) And I'm sure T would have an entire list of his own, probably involving electronics.

3 bad habits
Spending too much time on the internet
Sugar!
Not doing my laundry for way too long. I hate doing laundry.

5 places I have lived
Rhinebeck, NY (ages one-five)
Cleveland, Ohio (until I was 17)
Columbus, Ohio (17-22)
Iowa City, Iowa (22-23)
San Francisco, CA (23 to the present)

Jobs I have had
Department Store Clerk
Cafeteria worker
Painter of parking garages
Parking garage attendant
Setter-upper of events at the student union Factory Worker
Waitress (fired from 2 of 3 waitressing jobs)
Life model for art classes
Office temp
Teaching assistant
Social science telephone surveyor
Assistant to very mean woman at market research company
House manager at runaway shelter
House manager at domestic violence shelters
Nonprofit Program Director
Nonprofit Fundraising Coordinator/Manager
Executive Director of Nonprofit

Things people don’t know about me
I've had to share things people don't know about me so many times that people probably already know all of the things, but:
I have an extremely good memory for song lyrics
I hate citrus fruit, raisins and tomatoes
I never went camping or hiking until I was 21
I am afraid of flying, but do it anyway. I find it impossible to understand how the plane stays up in the air.
I am pretty much impervious to background noise
I am an ENFJ on the Meyer's Briggs test. I like this quote about ENFJs: "Because ENFJ's people skills are so extraordinary, they have the ability to make people do exactly what they want them to do." Watch out, everyone!

I am tagging Mati, Kim, Margaret, and Lola.

A Little of This

I really wanted to make a grid of photos on my blog. I even got help from Mati (who makes the best photo grids ever). But something was wrong with the Flickr code for making badges, so I'm going to have to try it again, when I'm feeling less sick and more patient and techie-like. In the meantime, I'm including some photos I took around our apartment, which would have looked a lot cooler in a grid.

I will report that we visited our adoption agency today, to meet with our very sensible and down-to-earth (in a bleached-blonde sexy-mom kind of way) adoption counselor and renew our home study. You see, it's been a year since we first became part of the pool of waiting families, so we had to let them know that we're still in good health and tell them about changes in our lives.

It was also time for a low-key pep talk. We got some reassurance that we're still within the average wait time for an adoption, that our letter (the one that possible birthmoms see) is great, and that with two match possibilities over the year, we've done well, in terms of the response to us as an adoptive couple.

We just haven't adopted yet, and we were told again that if we are willing to just hang in there it will happen. I think I believe it, too, which I couldn't say three months ago. It certainly has helped that I've seen other folks signed up with our agency go through long waits, matches that didn't work out, and failed adoptions like ours, and then I've seen them adopt.










Top to bottom:
Big Boy among the produce in our kitchen.
Valentine's Day tulips in the living room.
A vintage fan we bought in texas
Vintage matches and more in an old printer's drawer
Doll head among the books in our office
Two guys duke it out on the cowboy movie poster in our bedroom.

I Heart Tu Lan

To say I've eaten at Tu Lan hundreds of times would not be an exaggeration.

I've been eating there for about fifteen years. For about six years, I worked nearby, and went there once or twice a week.

During all the time I've known Tu Lan, a debate has been raging. Is Tu Lan a disgusting, grease-covered place, where cockroaches climb the walls and irascible cooks buy stolen goods from crack addicts? Or is it an incomparable cheap-eats find, with a certain reverse, Sixth Street cache for those in the know? Such is the debate, but I long ago lost all objectivity, and cannot answer that question. The flavorful, abundant and somewhat greasy Vietnamese food is like Proust's Madeleine to me, full of comfort, memories and associations. I was rather pleased to see that, on Tu Lan's last inspection by the health department, they received a score of 86, which is really quite respectable.

Tu Lan is a loud, narrow, old-fashioned place with dingy white walls and an open kitchen. If you sit at the counter you can watch the cooks make each dish, a process that involves a lot of leaping flames, tongs and clattering pans. The cooks don't look happy and they sweat a lot. On a number of occasions, I have indeed seen them examining goods for sale by residents of the local single room occupancy hotels. Once, a cook shouted at me after I complained that my shrimp salad had onions on it, when I requested it without. He angrily claimed that I had made the same complaint last week, which I denied vehemently (I hadn't).



Another time, I saw a man who was being pursued by the police jump from a crawlspace above the dining area into the middle of the restaurant and escape out the front door. It was truly like being in an action movie.

Though the male:female ratio at Tu Lan is usually about 3:1, I've never felt the least bit unsafe or uncomfortable there. The place is a veritable melting pot of San Francisco society from the poorest street person to the upper middle class. Many of the items on Tu Lan's menu still cost less than five dollars. And the servers have a gruff kindness about them, especially my favorite, a stooped man with a mustache who has called me "sir" many times.



And of all the enterprises I've ever been associated with, Tu Lan has the lowest turnover rate. Last night, 90% of the staff had been working there for at least eight years. Most had been there since I started going to Tu Lan. They've gotten older right along with me.

Lastly, I recommend the shrimp-fried rice, the ginger fish (pictured above), the tofu salad, the bean cake with crispy noodles, and the spring rolls. Don't get the soup.

Thanks to mswine, tempo and vanderwal for their excellent flickr commons photos.

Maui Top Ten

Just got back from Maui this morning. It was all it was cracked up to be, and just the vacation we needed, what with all the gentle sun, rain and wind, healthy outdoor fun, and time to just be. We did spend a million dollars, though. Perhaps Maui exists to make me appreciate the relatively low prices in the Bay Area.

Here's my top ten, in no particular order:


1. The colors of Haleakala (see above), an inactive volcano that looms over Maui. I think any kind of designer (especially one who loves the '70s) would be inspired. And as an added bonus, we got to experience being inside a cloud while hiking Haleakala.

2. Listening exclusively to CDs from our mix CD group while driving Maui's beautiful highways and byways, with special props to Stag by Reva, Clock Says Now by Chi-Hui, and Summer Fun by Georgia. And me, if truth be told, since I always like my own CDs best.

3. Maui Brewing Company's Coconut Porter. They describe it thusly: "It begins with a malty-toasted-coconut aroma followed by a rich, silky mouthfeel with tastes of dark malt, chocolate, and hints of coffee. It then finishes with flavors of toasted coconut and hoppy spice to balance the finish." Yup. Only sold in Hawaii, but we have four cans in our fridge.


4. Puppies. As we drove the Road to Hana (which was a blast), we took a detour to check out the lovely coastal views in Nahiku. On the road, what should we see but a troop of gamboling puppies, who swarmed adorably around our shoes when we got out of the car. This was on a day that we also saw multiple waterfalls and rainbows.

5. Eating at Mama's Fish House. The most expensive lunch either of us had ever had, and completely worth it. Gently complex flavors, locally caught fish, attentive service, and amazing chocolate/caramel pie for dessert. And an ocean view to boot.


6. Experiencing the soothing effects of asian sculpture. The first place we stayed was Maui Retreat, an off the grid working bamboo farm that offered new-agey services from tantra lessons to psychic readings (we just stayed there). The place made me see rain and wind in a whole new way, because there the rain was nourishing a million green leaves, not pounding on hard surfaces, and the wind was warmly sighing through all of that greenery, not rattling our old windowpanes. Likewise, the grounds were full of some pretty amazing sculpture, and the more I stayed there, with the wind, the rain, and the wise looking figures everywhere, the more relaxed I became.

7. Oheo Gulch. This collection of idyllic waterfalls and pools near Hana is also referred to as Seven Sacred Pools, though it's neither. The water was cold, the rocks were slippery, and the place was just plain gorgeous. We didn't bring our camera because we were needlessly afraid that it might get stolen while we swam.


8. The Shadow of the Wind. I was glued to this neo-gothic drama by Spanish Author Carlos Ruiz Zafon for most of the trip. It's the story of a young boy in post-civil war Spain who finds a book by a mysterious author named Julian Carax, and then realizes that someone is hunting down and burning all of Carax's work. Why? Read this awesomely entertaining book and find out.


9. Snorkeling in Napili Bay. Our next lodging was the Hale Napili, an oceanfront condo where the median age was high, the accomodations were practical, and a perfect beach was right there in front of us. We did some great snorkeling and got lots of sun.

10. Not using a computer or hearing any news the whole time (except on my second to last day, when I heard that Heath Ledger died and was sad).

The Books of 2007, Part 2

My list of books read in 2007 has come to an end, along with the year itself. Above, the brilliant David Mitchell holds my favorite book of the year, Cloud Atlas. My other favorites? The Road, Fun Home, Last Evenings on Earth, The Emperor's Children, and All Aunt Hagar's Children were pretty amazing.

I feel like I've accomplished something--I read 37 books. Why am I so ridiculously goal oriented and obsessed with numerical measures? That is a question for another day.

So here are the rest of the books I read in 2007, from July through December. Once again, the books in bold are the ones that wowed me.

Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, Alison Bechdel. This graphic novel deserved to be named the 2006 best book of the year by Time Magazine (even if Cloud Atlas was the best book of the year.) The drawings were meticulous and lovely. The autobiographical coming-of-age story introduces us to a young girl who realizes that her home-decor-obsessed dad is gay, and that she is a lesbian. They live in a funeral home. And yup, they deal with their sexuality in very different ways. Gripping and well-structured.


The Emperor's Children, Claire Messud. I have heard a lot of people hating on the supposed superficiality of this book about the intertwined hijinks of liberal, ambitiously literary New Yorkers. What does that say about me? Because I ate up every minute of it.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling.

Ghostwritten, David Mitchell. This book was absorbing and brilliant, but can any book ever be as good as Cloud Atlas? Not likely.

The Happiest Baby On The Block, Harvey Karp. Someday when we really do adopt, this book is going to come in very handy, if I haven't completely forgotten the five S's by then.

The Whole World Over, Julia Glass.

Imagining Argentina, Lawrence Thornton. I liked the premise (a man can see the fates of the disappeared in Argentina, during that country's Dirty War) a little better than I liked the book, but it was worth reading. It was strange that the author never visited Argentina before writing the book.

Imperial Life in the Emerald City, Rajiv Chandrasekaran. Excellent book about the debacle that has been the American occupation of Iraq. I was torn between horror and schadenfreude. For the 1,000,000th time, yes, real life is more surreal than fiction.

The Last Life, Claire Messud. Messud's first novel, about the travails of a French/Algerian/American teenager, came off as precious and navel-gazing, and was a bit of a slog.


The Dissident, Nell Freudenberger. Satisfying and readable book about a dissident Chinese avante-garde artist who goes on a residency to the United States and gets involved with a crazy rich family. I would never have learned about the fascinating East Village Chinese art scene without this book.

Parable of the Sower, Octavia Butler. I had always wanted to read Octavia Butler. Like a lot of science fiction, I suppose, the ideas in the book were more interesting than the plot. I think the main character was Octavia, though, and I really liked her.

The Crazed, Ha Jin. This was an (intentionally, most likely) dreary book about a demented Chinese professor who reveals the emptiness of his life to his protege, who must then make some decisions of his own. In the end I was glad I read it, because it went to unexpected places.

A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Miserable Mill, Lemony Snicket.


All Aunt Hagar's Children, Edward Jones. This author fascinates me. He seems so monastic and committed to his work. Just look at his glasses! And his work is brilliant! Each one of these stories, which are mostly about African-American life in DC, paints a rich and vivid world. He gives Alice Munro a run for her money.

Collected Stories, Amy Hempel. Okay, I really, really didn't like this book. It took me months to get through, and it annoyed the hell out of me. It was just so damn quirky and idiosyncratic. The strange thing is that I had the terribly mistaken idea that I would love it.


Exit Wounds, Rutu Modan. This graphic novel, set in Israel, revolves around the disappearance of an elderly man who, at first glance, no one seems to care much about. Was he killed in a suicide bombing? His cranky taxi-driving son and a very tall young woman try to find out, and reveal a lot about Israeli society in the process. I loved it.

Love is a Mix Tape, Rob Sheffield. I got this for T for Christmas, and we both read it in a day or two. It's a love story (and a loss story) built around mix tapes and the music the author shared with his late wife. Sometimes it was annoyingly clever and rambling, other times it was geekily epic.

A Sad Phone Call

When you are adopting in the way we are, you have a 1-800 number. If a "potential birthmom" happens to see your website and wants to get in touch, they can call that number, or email you.

In the time we've been waiting to adopt (10 months now) no one has ever called us out of the blue to chat on that number. Nor has anyone (except easily identifiable scammers from Cameroon) ever emailed us. We've had two contacts (one a potential match that we turned down, and one a match that led to our failed adoption). Both were arranged by our adoption agency.

Tonight I got a call on our 1-800 number. It was a teenage girl, and she said she found our website and thought we looked nice. She started telling me a really sad story, about being abandoned by her mom, then living in a group home, and not getting along with her family. I listened and asked some questions, and then I said, "So you're pregnant?" "No," she said. "I must have misunderstood your ad." Oh no. She wanted us to adopt her. What a brave and lonely call to make for a 13 year old.

All I could say is that I was glad she told me her story, and that I would be thinking about her and hoping for her to grow up strong, and to take care. I am sitting here hoping she will find her place.

So long, holidays!

The sock monkey, an adorable Christmas gift from T, tries to comfort the sad clown, who seems to be asking his stuffed friend why he even bothers.

The crisp, sunny weekend between Christmas and New Year's was a perfect time for brunch at The Cliff House and a walk along the seawall. I had the Johnson Omelet.

A long afternoon hike at Chabot Regional Park. Walking among tall trees with friends was the perfect way to start the New Year.


Someone was a bit suspicious of our group, and I don't blame her one bit.