It's like the Grudge III!

Sneaky muthafuckers...those Asian women.

Homeless woman lived in man's closet for year
via MSN

"I iz in yer closet. Eating your onigiri."

I've got a bad feeling about this...

"I think I did have a reputation for being grumpy. I don't think I'm grumpy. I have opinions. I have an independent vision. I am a purposeful person. But on a daily basis, I think I'm other than grumpy. I think it is a case where I am coming to do business and not there just to be flattered and cajoled and used."-Harrison Ford on his 'Blade Runner' experience

Ok, so I saw: Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull last weekend and it is TOTALLY watchable. It not, by any sort of long shot, better than 'Raiders' or even 'Last Crusade', but it is certainly good, clean family fun. With emphasis on the "family".

The good:

-Return of Karen Allen as Marion Ravenwood. I thought hers and Indy's story for 'Raiders' was great, and she's still feisty and in great shape. I don't care what people say, I LOVE when they bring back recurring characters.

-John Hurt as the wily mental case. You're not quite sure if he's included to help or harm. He's been getting a lot of these types of roles in lately. Possibly in preparation for his 'Deathly Hallows' role as Ollivander.

-It's a little bit of a George Lucas tribute film-there are callbacks to 'Star Wars', 'American Graffiti', the first 3 Indiana Jones films and the 50s alien obsession.

-Great soundtrack; John Williams does it again.

-Indy's still kickin' ass. There are some really great stunt sequences in the film and they're generally not the ones that are CG or with Shia LeBeouf.

Speaking of...

Shia LeBeouf is passable but not fantastic as 'Mutt' (oh when you finally get this reference, it makes you giggle) Williams. He keeps calling Indy 'old man' which makes me sad. I used to think Indiana Jones was sexy. Even when he was taking on broader humor in the 'Last Crusade', he still made archeology and swimming in petroleum with a bunch of sewer rats seem hot and sexy. Here, Indy is seriously an old fart who neatly pleats his Brooks Brothers shirts before packing them into his case, leaves his jacket and tie on while going over cryptograms, (COME ON! Would the REAL Indy do that? No! His jacket would be off before you could even say Mesopotamian deity idol) and can't even bear to make out with Marion til death do they part. Shia is supposed to be the 'new' sexy-but to me, he still looks like a kid. Needs to watch Ed Furlong in T-2 to get young and sexy on a motorcycle.

No John Rhys-Davies and no Brody (cause the actor died). Jim Broadbent makes his case as Brody's patsy of a brother, but no dice. Sean Connery as Henry Sr. is also presumably dead.

The bad...the really really bad (SPOILER ALERT!!!)

-the Tarzan scene. WTF

-Cate Blanchett's entire character from horrible inconsistent accent to psychic powers to Natasha haircut. WTF.

-the crystal skull that was apparently made from a discarded 'Aliens' or 'ID4' prop piece. WTF?!

-the aliens that take some temple in Peru to another dimension. WTF!

-the refrigerator scene. WTF.

-the stupid groundhogs. hate.

that is my quickie review. Still 100 million on opening weekend means that many people want to be entertained.

Fearless and foodie.

Dating Tips from SATC: (going this weekend with, who else, the girls! stilettos optional. Pictured, Cyn who is one of my favorite, currently single, gals)

Case study: Carrie

The eternal single girl had her share of romances, chronicled in her weekly column, but the truest love story is the one she wrote for herself. Bad luck and messy breakups were de rigueur in Carrie's life. By surviving the pitfalls — a Manolo-mugging, a computer crash, and a very embarrassing fashion fall — Carrie gained the confidence and strength to continue her search for true love. "The most exciting, challenging, and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself," she said. "And if you find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous." Lesson #7: Be fearlessly single.

********

So, I had an awesome Memorial Day-because for the first time, I sucked up my aversion to oysters and headed North to Tomales Bay. Now, many of you conoussieurs out there will be asking yourselves, "aversion?" My only previous experiences with oysters has been on the notorious Asian buffet tables where they are served with black beans and ginger and have that lovely 3-day old sewage flavour. Last year, tho', the girls took me to Namu for my birthday and introduced me to sweet, fresh kumamotos and they sort of peaked my interest.

After jostling Spam out of her post-party stupor, we headed North on the Golden Gate Bridge where the weather was starting to look up.

Getting to the site was a different story; it pretty much stayed overcast, slightly misty and windycold for the rest of the afternoon. Mr. Bimmer brought his own rig for bbq. The menu was pretty awesome: 3 types of baguette, hummus, chocolate cake, brownies, bacon wrapped enoki, fresh top dogs (lemon chicken and chicken apple), grilled toast, crab mango salad, watermelon, salami/cheese platter and oysters of course!

The madhouse of tables started to fill by 11:30 or so; people of all kinds, but surprisingly mostly Asian and Latino. I guess they know where all the good food is. I've always thought of fresh raw oysters as sort of a yuppie thing to do. And all of the parties, regardless of race, were HUGE. We're talking no less than 10 per table.

The system at the Tomales Bay Oyster Co. is pretty interesting. You can buy bags of large, med or small oysters in different varieties in different increments. Most of us went with the bag of 50 smalls and split them between 3-4 people. (You can see Mr. Bimmer's diabolical look of glee as he plans to spend our money on sweet sweet seafood) Everything here is pretty much no-frills; tables are sparse and barely wiped clean of guano. There are no bathrooms-only porta potties and the grills are the tiny ones you find at GGPark. But the oysters cannot be beat. J-Dawg and Ms. Beach also made mignonette sauces (spicy tomato and citrus honey) to go with the oysters and both were absolutely delicious. But we started throwing the oysters on the grill and I can definitely tell you: I AM NOW A CONVERT.

Slightly smokey, juicy with a hit of the same umami warmth that comes from eating cooked mushrooms-each sucker was delicious and sweet. And I learned the trick to opening oysters, tho' as you can see: Mr. Bimmer, Pilot Inspecktor and Gnaw were infinitely better at cracking the suckers open. So much so that Pilot Inspecktor would have gotten three or four oysters open by the time Cyn or I had even gotten our screwdrivers under one. So we just learned the trick of asking Mr. Bimmer and Pilot to open them for us. muah.

Tomales Bay Oyster Co.

15479 Highway One (about 5mi. North of Point Reyes)

Marshall, CA 94940

Telephone: (415) 663-1242

Fax:(415) 663-9327

Every day from 8am to 6pm.

Tomorrow: dogs named Yogi and Himawari Ramen!

What are you made of?/What are you so afraid of?/Three simple words?

My favorite new photo:
Part of the Hearts in San Francisco project to benefit SF General Hospital. By Precita Eyes Muralists (@ Union Square)

"Hearts in San Francisco was a Bay Area-wide "heart installation" that debuted in the spring of 2004. While similar to Chicago's "Cows on Parade," the San Francisco version used a heart icon, appropriate for a city that is recognized for its acceptance and tolerance, as well as being perennially open-hearted. The goal of this project was to become a unique hybrid of fund-raising, compassionate community involvement, and a positive nurturing of artistic expression at a time when it is sorely needed. The financial beneficiary of Hearts in San Francisco is the San Francisco General Hospital Foundation, whose sole purpose is to fund projects that will enhance patient care and comfort at San Francisco General Hospital Medical Center (SFGHMC). The goal was to raise $1 Million for SFGHMC. As of February 2005 nearly $2,000,000 in funds have been raised. "

In your silence, what do you think about?

Gender-wise, I've often assumed that guys and gals are the same, but that was in my blind naivete. As much as I want to believe that men are like women, they simply are not. And in more ways than have to do with anatomy. For example, I love my silences. I hate it when people fill the spaces with meaningless words or gossip or things that mean nothing. Jerrsika told me the best quote she ever heard was:

"Let the words I speak be as profound as the silence I disturb."

But that utter, gentle peace of silence. Like a blanket that covers my head and lets me breathe without distraction. It's restful. Many times tho', I will continue to think in that silence. Things I want to say or do, things I wish I hadn't, replaying favorite memories in my head, errands, lists, reminders, random thoughts. Song lyrics. Poetry. Passages from books. dirty jokes. A general litany of plans. So even when it's quiet; it only serves to facilitate the re-organization of my brain. And when I'm done; I'm lighter.

Guys don't seem to do this. When they say, "nothing", they literally mean NOTHING. I mean, like the white space of the Matrix before you add the guns, helicoptors or karate dojos.

Even when I'm quiet, I'm thinking. And my thoughts can often seem so much more incredibly profound than what is going on around me. Maybe I'm tired, but maybe I'm just wondering how to get to Corta Madera from the bridge. How to whiten my teeth. What other novels Wilde has written. How I have to get my tights out of the dryer when I get home because I have to bring them to rehearsal. The taste of mango peel. By reading, I have learned more about one person in two days than I may learn in a lifetime. But now, I am thinking.

Never have I wanted to take away something from somebody
Not his hands

Not his song

Can I love as much as she did?

arashidy-mucky muchy...bah.

In my rash stupidity, desire for connection and intimacy-I may have misinterpreted some gender specific signs/body language. Let me try to figure this one out...

When guys are trying to go for the one-night stand hook up, what sort of behavior do they exhibit? Because I may have misunderstood some direction. And I'm just trying to find out my piece in all of this. At all of 29 years old, I STILL do not understand men. I have a fuckton of guy friends and I still...don't get it.

Do they kiss your hand?
Whisper in your ear?
Put their arm around your shoulders
Like it belongs there?
Not copping a feel-just protective.
Give you your freedom
But all you want to do is sit by their side?
And when you ask for some time.
That it's all moving too fast, for you,
He gives you air.

Is it some game that y'all play? I don't feel that-but I could be wrong. Because I've been wrong before. Am I silly to do this again? Fall and fall and fall and fall and fall...

and write bad poetry.

Now I'm letting silence do the talking

Sunday: biding my time til our house is invaded by the Chinese Mafia Dinner Party and I trot my ass of to watch 'Indiana Jones' with Moward.
Currently, our neighbor is using a high powered spray washer to clean the exterior of his house. If you ask me, it all seems a bit excessive-seeing that he does it like at least once a month-it's loud and sounds like a giant vibrator. It is better than the Harley Davidson gang that came zooming up Portola yesterday morning at 8am however. Oy.

Speaking of clean tho', I'm often surprised at how my perceptions often clash with reality. See, I recently bought one of those new fangled swipe-y mops for our kitchen. Mainly because I started getting embarrassed when family would come over and there were be this layer of unidentifiable crust laid over, what used to be, glorious hardwood. It's nobody's fault really; we're a family that likes to cook, eat and also wear their shoes in the house. I'm not sure when my parents decided to deviate from this particular Chinese custom, but it gets grody. So instead of bitching, I decided to do something about it. Feeling all pleased with myself, I got home early last Wednesday and hustled upstairs with my packages. Peering more closely at our floor though, I realized;

It honestly wasn't that dirty. So now, our new mop has found a temporary home, under the sink in my bathroom.

But how often have you had that happen to you? That one thing you thought was one way and in all honesty it turned out to be another. But it took you taking a really close look at whatever it was you were judging. So many times we're told to live in the present and not think about tomorrow-but is that even possible? And I've had multiple people tell me that my disappointment over relationships is due more to my feeling of loss at what might have been (Golden anniversaries, kids, picket fences) rather than the loss of what actually was. I'm currently torturing myself over the 'what-ifs' rather than being content and excited about the 'what-ises'. If we'd only allow ourselves to look at things and situations for what they are rather than what we want them to be or are scared of what they'd become-we'd probably be a happier race of beings.

When it comes to my new swiffer-y type mop, I was actually looking forward to using it to clean and make things all pretty and bright. Just like the commercial-the the point I was actually hoping that our kitchen floor was dirtier than it actually is. I was trying to make something 'better' in my own mind when in reality it wasn't that bad in the first place. Isn't that the story of Life? So here I go again, maybe I'll learn from the last one, that who we are is who we are and whatever we create out of the relationships we happen upon is what we're supposed to get.

Dang-I think I may have just talked myself in circles. Where is clarity in all of this? Huh?

Dammit....I think it's too late to get tickets to this at Bimbo's tomorrow night. Dang, dang, dang. Must remember to start paying attention earlier.


"Another day, another way / For me to open up to you/ I used to worry/ I would wake one day only to find we'd nothing more to say / Now I'm letting silence do the talking / Now I'm letting silence do the walking / Another day, another way / For me to open up to you..."-Jamie Lidell

the last hottest thing a guy said to me? "Yeah...not gonna sleep tonight." Trust me, it was hot.

Non-sequitur

(have been having the worst time trying to start blog entries lately. so perhaps some parenthetical explanation will have to do for now. throw me a flag for the false start, ref)

It's 1pm on a Saturday.
And I'm still in my jammies after having listened to Amos Lee's album about 4x in a row. So I've resorted to reading blogs more more thoughtful than my own and remembering how to breathe. Do you ever wonder, when people see you, what do they see? I've worked for so long and so hard and so diligently on my voice. To be heard, to put a soul to words. And is that all I've become? And if, truly, that's what I am to become-it's not something I mind at all.

And yet, am I all that different from those that came before me? I guess it's hard to find some sort of striking out point without referencing what was before. I'm sitting here trying to write something meaningful and just talking in vague nebulosities. (take that George)

But I'm taking a break today, finally. No class, no rehearsal, no shopping, no...nothing. Just me and a bed and some coffee. And some blogs-the good kind. The ones that make you think, the ones that make you dream and fill out the stretching hours before...oh crap-what time is it?

I do realize, I need a new camera tho'.