The colors of a rainbow, so pretty in the sky. Are there on the faces of people going by

Sitting here, waiting for the AT&T guy to call me back...might as well blog right?

Lots of fun stuff happened last weekend; Friday after being thwarted for weekend plans with Bagel, and feeling too old to go out and party - I was ready to head back home, until Fabala called and invited me over for mac n' cheese and Spaceballs. Sounds like my kind of night. I ended up walking in Vitamin E enriched sunshine from Portrero to Bernal Heights, and on the way spied these painted on wall of a neighborhood art gallery:Aren't they cute?! All of the boulders had eyeballs, but I thought this one was hilarious, because it was a boulder family. In fact, my entire walk along Bryant St., was full of gloriously adorable wonders. In one of the least known parts of the city; sort of outer Mission - there's an amazing neighborhood feel with a mixture of modern architecture (industrial steel and glass lofts, wide expanses of slate and wood slats, simple, clean lines) with old (classically maintained painted ladies with intricately detailed wooden trim) and artistic houses (CellSPACE). Everyone's space is well-kempt, creative and thorough. Little front stoop benches, sunflowers higher than your head and mossy walls, it was an amazing 1/2 hr walk that ended up in Precita Park - which only could have been made perfect with the addition of some ice cream. But I have to admit - the mac n' cheese was delicious.


Just goes to show, that sometimes when you just take a chance on what's just outside your front door - it's an amazing little stroll (lyrics are from, "Wonderful World")

boundaries of an...@ kind

don't you hate it when you finally work up the courage to email someone and you are foiled by their inaccessibility? Especially when, you write the email in the morning, send it off, spend all day out of the house so you won't obsessively check your email every 20 minutes and are still disappointed when you return home, 7-8 hours later to find that there is still no response?

because your brain then goes into overdrive. (I think I've blogged about this before) I just want instant gratification for my willingness to step outside the boundaries of my emotional comfort zone. That is, I want someone to email me back instantly, saying how much they've missed me, how much they value me as a person and yes, they'd love to see me later.

instead, I'm forced to sit in technological limbo for another night - when I've already willed myself to stay away from the computer all day - trying to decide whether this person is consciously ignoring me, not answering any emails, or deciding how to reject my naively trusting and open little soul.

hate it.

J-Live..."Satisfied?"

Hey yo
Lights, camera, tragedy, comedy, romance
You better dance from your fighting stance
Or you'll never have a fighting chance
In the rat race
Where the referee's son started way in advance
But still you livin' the American Dream
Silk PJ's, sheets and down pillows
Who the fuck would wanna wake up?
You got it good like hot sex after the break up
Your four car garage it's just more space to take up
You even bought your mom a new whip scrap the jalopy
Thousand dollar habit, million dollar hobby
You a success story everybody wanna copy
But few work for it, most get jerked for it
If you think that you could ignore it, you're ig-norant
A fat wallet still never made a man free
They say to eat good, yo, you gotta swallow your pride
But dead that game plan, I'm not satisfied

[Chorus]
The poor get worked, the rich get richer
The world gets worse, do you get the picture?
The poor gets dead, the rich get depressed
The ugly get mad, the pretty get stressed
The ugly get violent, the pretty get gone
The old get stiff, the young get stepped on
Whoever told you that it was all good lied
So throw your fists up if you not satisfied

{*Singing*}
Are you satisfied?
I'm not satisfied

Hey yo, the ants still steal
The anthrax got my whole earth wearin' a mask and gloves to get a meal
I know a older guy that lost twelve close peeps on 9-1-1
While you kickin' up punchlines and puns
Man fuck that shit, this is serious biz
By the time Bush is done, you won't know what time it is
If it's war time or jail time, time for promises
And time to figure out where the enemy is
The same devils that you used to love to hate
They got you so gassed and shook now, you scared to debate
The same ones that traded books for guns
Smuggled drugs for funds
And had fun lettin' off forty-one
But now it's all about NYPD caps
And Pentagon bumper stickers
But yo, you still a nigga
It ain't right them cops and them firemen died
The shit is real tragic, but it damn sure ain't magic
It won't make the brutality disappear
It won't pull equality from behind your ear
It won't make a difference in a two-party country
If the president cheats, to win another four years
Now don't get me wrong, there's no place I'd rather be
The grass ain't greener on the other genocide
But tell Huey Freeman don't forget to cut the lawn
And uproot the weeds
Cuz I'm not satisfied

[Chorus]

{*Singing*}
All this genocide
Is not justified
Are you satisfied?
I'm not satisfied

Yo, poison pushers making paper off of pipe dreams
They turned hip-hop to a get-rich-quick scheme
The rich minorities control the gov'ment
But they would have you believe we on the same team
So where you stand, huh?
What do you stand for?
Sit your ass down if you don't know the answer
Serious as cancer, this jam demands your undivided attention
Even on the dance floor
Grab the bull by the horns, the bucks by the antlers
Get yours, what're you sweatin' the next man for?
Get down, feel good to this, let it ride
But until we all free, I'll never be satisfied

[Chorus] - Repeat 2x

{*Singing with talking in background*}
Are you satisfied?
(whoever told you that it was all good lied)
I'm not satisfied
(Throw your fists up if you not satisfied)
Are you satisfied?
(Whoever told you that it was all good lied)
I'm not satisfied
(So throw your fists up)
(So throw your fists up)
(Throw your fists up)

I will be your father figure...

Overheard in the car:

Pen: So what's your middle name?
Bagel: What do you think it is? What initial is it?
Pen: ...J...or M
Bagel: Ok, it's the first one.
Pen: Hmmm...James
Bagel: Close. My middle name IS Biblical.
Pen: John? Jacob?
Bagel: nope
Pen: Jonah?
Bagel: (laughs) that would be cool.
Pen: ...JESUS? Is your middle name JESUS?!
Bagel: WHAT? No! ahha! I've heard of people calling their kids "Hey-zeus", but not just "Jesus". Wouldn't that give your kid a complex?
Pen: (mocking parents) Well you know, we didn't want you to get all full of yourself, so we made it your MIDDLE name.

Father's Day Nosh.

Sometimes good things don't fade away, they just keep getting better.

Father's Day marked my second return to Mission Beach Cafe. After hearing about my pie experiences there two months ago with SquirreMonk, he was rather intrigued and when I suggested it for brunch, he got pretty excited. Only problem? MBC doesn't take reservations for brunch or breakfast on Sundays.

And they open at 9am. Okkk.

Good thing we got up early - there was already a line 6 people deep when we got there at 8:50am! Holy Hipster Hangout Batman! But for good reason..Exhibit ACandied pepper BACON...mmm...delicious carmelized pieces of fatty pork. FRIED. You take delicious slices of fried pork product and you add a syrupy outer coating and none of that pancake nonsense. We tore through this pretty fast.

Mr. Jones had a pulled pork and sweet potato hash with sauteed gai lan (yeah, no joke) and a fried egg on top. What made this dish so good was the fact that the pork had been deeply marinated and almost double fried - sort of like carnitas. But the flavors were so yummy - well seasoned and juicy and the portion was substantial.

Mymymy and I both had the dungeness crab Benedict with house potatoes.Impressive hollandaise. It was light, citrusy and creamy all at the same time. House potatoes were sort of "meh" - they looked crispy, but weren't really. That's ok, the freshness of the crab (not a cake) and hollandaise more than made up for it. In fact, I believe the waitress actually told us that our orders were taking a little bit longer because the kitchen was making another batch of eggy sauce.

I love the interior of MBC, the tables are these roughly hewn but polished and laquired slabs of wood. light colors with a full pastry bar serving coffee to people who just happen to stroll in and couldn't get a seat. The only thing is the aisle walkway between two rows of seating is just a leetle too small (esp. when you have two bears sitting back to back) to pass through. But the food is delicious and at about $23 a person (not too bad of a deal). Dinner is just as good, with Pot Pie Tuesdays, a full dessert bar of at least three pies per night and

Plus we picked up some pastries that we ate for lunch: Croissant - best one I've had in a while, a little on the moist side, but had a delicious buttery center. Scone - YUMMY! blueberries in a crumbly dough. Pecan roll - surprisingly not as good as the croissant, a little on the too sweet side, but still really good.

Mission Beach Cafe
198 Guerrero Street @ 14th
SF, CA 94103
415.861-0198

********
-oh, and my other theater news? Sugar's daughter that I recently coached for her summer drama camp's audition? Got the LEAD. She's Belle in 'Beauty and the Beast'! I'm literally over the moon.

letters to my "mother"

ugh...I am going to sound like a 14 year old emo adolescent,

BUT

I have no idea how my mother can spend an entire 8 hours at home, and
a) find rat poo but not CLEAN it up
b) NOT wash her fucking dishes
c) CLAIM not to have found ANY food in the fridge when there is clearly
- a full rack of ribs (still in plastic)
- a full package of chicken breasts (still in plastic)
- 10 eggs
- 1/2 a can of Spam
- zucchini, onions, carrots, broccoli, salad greens
- fresh noodles
- 1/2 a ball of fresh mozzerella
and a ton of condiments in there. (plus lunchmeat)
As well as 1/2 a box of Cheerios, sundry fruits and other dried foodstuffs around. And let us not talk about her starting to cook HERSELF dinner at 7:45, after I had already been home for 2-1/2 hrs., cooked for myself and cleaned my dishes
d) lay into Mr. Jones who had just gotten home from working two jobs (one in San Jose)

STOP HUFFING FROM THE CRAZY/LAZY BOX MOM AND CLEAN UP ALREADY.
-your loving daughter.

down the rabbithole

Mmmph...beautiful. Images from Tim Burton's, "Alice In Wonderland" - GORGEOUS.