Sometimes it’s better to stay home and deal with your tween fantasies there than in public… In front of your hero.
“Will you sign my book?”
I’m terrible with being star struck. I’m shy and I have a habit of staring at my toes. Once about 10 years ago, I was in a Starbucks and Jack Nicholson came in and sat down no more than 10 feet away from me. I remember him glancing in my general direction and I promptly choked on my coffee and had it dribbling down my chin and into my bra. Sigh. I’m terrible.
I work for a Shakespeare company and my boss was sick so I was promptly ordered to attend -in his absence- the Shakespeare workshop of a brash Brit named Ben Crystal who was touring the nation. Read more...
I confide this to fellow SAF Seeking blogger Annika as I sit in a parking lot on my lunch break. She had just given me a quick sample of what she had written for the weekend and I was squealing with delight. Oh the embarrassment! The adventure! Giggles galore!
But after thinking about it, I felt sad. I don’t know where it went, but I have absolutely no sex drive. Since my fiancé’s passing a year ago, I’ve looked at pretty men but have had no tingle in the panties. You know that feeling? It seriously is a tingle, a momentary moistening, a signal that you might actually have to grind yourself against something to make it stop. Read more...
And thus race is still a white elephant in the room.
It’s one of those touchy subjects: casting. Even more touchy when it comes to racial casting.
There is a play called Seminar by Theresa Rebeck. One of the roles was originated by an Asian American named Hetienne Park. In most productions thereafter, the role has had a history of being cast as an Asian American, with an occasional African American female once in a while.
Now the show is going to be produced by a local theater company here in the SF Bay Area and it has the acting Asian American community’s interest piqued. Because truthfully beyond a few phrases of “I have an uncle who lives in Shanghai,” there is no mention of the character’s ethnicity. If the script doesn’t actually specifically say “Asian American”, it doesn’t say “Asian American” in the script at all, does it HAVE to be played by an Asian American? Read more...
A house in need of renovations may be a house full of memories.
The house is for sale.
The house that my fiancé bought and owned and fixed up for me and that we nurtured together is for sale.
It is a surreal moment to be sure. After the death of my fiancé, since we weren’t married yet, all his property goes back to his next of kin, and in this case, his parents. Money is not something you want to discuss after the death of a loved one, so we left it at: I leave the home it doesn’t belong to me so take it and do what you will with it. Read more...
I attended my first bris last week. How nerve wracking! And it wasn’t even my own kid!
As a fine connoisseur of all things penile (seriously kidding there), I am a firm supporter of the UNcircumcision. Just leave the dang thing alone! I’ve been with lots of men who have NOT been circumcised and truthfully, it’s fine. (I think it was an American thing to do from the 1960′s to about 1990 to always circumcise, I could be off on those dates. But apparently the rest of the world doesn’t circumcise as much.) I mean, it’s interesting. Some foreskins are like cute little turtlenecks: some foreskins are like baggy plastic shopping bags wrapped around a wine bottle. Whatever. It’s all part of the journey. Read more...
According to this article in the SFGate, most people in San Francisco use Tinder. This is “Approaching 2014.”
But also according to the vitriolic comments afterwards, feminism is to blame for people not approaching. People LOVE to blame feminism for dating problems, basically a “You wanted freedom, now go suck it up!” attitude.
But in all reality, men and women, who do you PREFER to do the first approach? And for same sex couples, which do you prefer: being approached or approaching and why? Read more...
It started, “I received your dreadful email last April and it has taken this long to respond to it.” It was from the proprietor of a small bed and breakfast inn in the Sierra foothills.
A couple of years ago, my fiancé (at the time, just a friend-with-’privileges’)and I had gone there after a week long Yosemite backpacking trip. He splurged on it for us. We were exhausted and we had found ourselves in this little town with no where to sleep.
Honestly I got too scared researching “scary hallways” for a photo. So here’s a regular one. Read more...
Granted, no one’s age is anyone’s business. (Well, maybe your doctor should know.) But sometimes I want to make a reference to -I dunno, a Big Sister commercial- and it makes me feel like a relic when all I get are a crowd of blank stares.
1. The hottest guy at the table, yeah? You could have given birth to him.
2. The conversation steers towards how much they’ve outgrown partying since they left college… 3 years ago.
3. Everyone’s done Cochella and Burning Man… but have only a vague memory of Lollapalooza.
“There are three kinds of outdoor adventures. 1) when you’re having fun at what you’re doing 2) when something goes slightly wrong and you have a good story to tell 3) things go really wrong and you live to have a great story to tell.”
She smiled at me as she finished the above quote. It was from “The Dirtbag Diaries”, a rock climbing podcast series.
Currently, we were having adventure of the #2 kind: we had gone bouldering and when we returned to our campsite, it was camp Armageddon. The wind had blown all the tents away, sleeping bags strewn along the road, ice coolers toppled and beer rolling on the gravel. All the other tent owners were going up to each campsite as if they were passengers on the Titanic: “Have you seen my tent? It was grey, with blue trim, and said North Face on the side.” Read more...