SAF Seeking… A reason to believe in a god

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“His organs are shutting down.”

I stare at the text. It’s 830am and I’m packing to get on the road for a 6pm go-time of a long-anticipated wedding way up in the California foothills.

Leonardo is dying. It’s been just a little over a year since his Stage IV cancer was diagnosed. Honestly, I thought he was going to beat it. He increased his positivity and prayer and looked on no side that boded ill. If you doubted him, you were against him and he was going to prove you wrong.

SAF Seeking… The Path Not Taken

No, not spam and eggs... SPERM and eggs!!

No, not spam and eggs… SPERM and eggs!!

I had braced myself for a hit. A slap. I opened my eyes. He had sat there staring forward out the front window shield, his hand lightly resting on the driver’s wheel while his mouth hung slack-jawed. It was 10pm at night and we had been sitting in his parked car outside the Fox Theatre in Oakland.

That’s how I remember him when I uttered “I’m pregnant,” to him as fast as I could before my courage waned and before he had to get back on stage.

We agreed to talk about it later when he had time to think about it.

*****

Wow.

SAF seeking… One small step

Is this coat not sexy?!?

Is this coat not sexy?!?

“I don’t know what to do with all this.” He motions to my furry coat, complete with sheep fur collar and cuffs. (I thought I was a vision in fluffiness; apparently I was a ball of cock-block.)

“But I’m cold,” I retorted as I looked around his room. (Hmm, he has a large collection of horror films.)

“I’ll keep you warm,” he protests.

“How?!?” I asked incredulously, pulling my warm coat closer around me. (Stupid rent-controlled SF apartments- they’re always drafty!)

“Just take it off.” I reluctantly remove my coat. He comes forward and gives me a full-body hug. It’s soft and warm. “Feel warm?”

I nod.

SAF seeking… anger management

Where are the angels?

Where are the angels?

“Heaven has a new angel.”

“It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”

“At least they died doing what they love.”

These are sayings that suck. They SUCK. They especially suck when you lose your partner and people say this to cheer you up.

My best guy friend just lost his wife. Poof! One minute she’s riding her bike in front of him, next minute he’s giving her CPR. Two days later he’s delaying pulling the plug on life support because he still wants to hold her hand even if her pupils are fixed and her brain has no activity. Heart attack. She had just turned 40.

SAF Seeking… A #YesAllWomen moment

Just another day in the Tenderloin.

Just another day in the Tenderloin.

I’m at a party with an old friend who is telling a funny story.

He goes, “So we’re picking up a friend who’s staying at the Hilton in the Tenderloin….” (The Tenderloin is a historically harder neighborhood in San Francisco that has a high number of homeless and drug users, mixed in with the touristy stuff of downtown.) “And there’s this homeless guy, and he doesn’t have his back to us or anything, he’s doing it while face the street..” My friend inhales as his eyes get wet with excitement, “He’s MASTURBATING! Like full frontal! Not even trying to hide it?!?!”

Guffaws of laughter and disbelief from the crowd.

Around the Horn… If luck was a number…

I love listening to NPR’s Radiolab and this week they had an interesting 20 minute short called For The Love Of Numbers. In it, they discuss how people have favorite numbers and we justify it very strongly. Even numbers are ‘solid’ and ‘dependable’: odd numbers are ‘edgy’ and ‘mystical’. And people have favorite numbers throughout the world despite cultural differences, and yet cite the same characteristics for numbers “it’s a feminine number” or “it feels strong”. But apparently everyone has an affinity for a number.

Come on number 9!!!!!

Come on number 9!!!!!

My favorite number flips between 3 and 9, simply because they are round and I like that. And 3 is the power number for me: the holy trinity for example. And more personal for me, I was raised an only child so it makes me think of me and my mom and dad… Like a little island of three unto ourselves.

Do you have a favorite number and why?

SAF Seeking… Gentrification Guilt

Wow. Here I am. Art Murmur. The transformation is now complete. I am a (gasp!) gentrifier.

Bacchus would be proud.

Bacchus would be proud.

I went from living in my parents’ basement (due to special circumstances) to owning my own little wee (and I mean SMALL!) condo in Oakland, which apparently is the West Coast version of ‘New Brooklyn’. I’m sure it got that moniker because San Francisco proper is repulsively expensive (average rent for a one-bedroom is somewhere in the upper $2000s/low $3000s unless you know of someone willing to rent a room out of their rent-controlled apartment).

Little post WWII housing of ticky-tacky houses? From $600k- $1.2m now. Say WAAAAAAA?

Little post WWII housing of ticky-tacky houses? From $600k- $1.2m now. Say WAAAAAAA?

SAF Seeking… Kristina Wong seeking reparations for yellow fever and GETS IT!!!!

I love a good Sunday morning laugh, and this morning I caught up with one of my favorite performance artists/comedians, Kristina Wong.

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She just did a great episode for Myx TV called “I’m Asian American And…. I Want Reparations for Yellow Fever!!!” (I’m sure that second part was her idea.)

Due to copyrights, I can’t embed it here, but you really should watch it. It will make you roll on the ground laughing. (I think people call that ROFLMAO, nowadays.)

So since I can’t embed it, here’s another still shot of Kristina Wong to whet your appetite.

Yeah. She says you should watch the episode too.

Yeah. She says you should watch the episode too.

Have you watched it yet? It’s pretty freaking hilarious.

SAF Seeking… Crush Alert!

Sometimes it's better to stay home and deal with your tween fantasies there than in public... In front of your hero.

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.

SAF Seeking… A Sex Drive

Even this skeleton is more frisky than me.

Even this skeleton is more frisky than me.

“I think I’m numb from the waist down.”

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.

SAF Seeking… A plate of Asian American please.

And thus race is still a pink elephant in the room.

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?

SAF Seeking… The shouldas of home remodeling

Why can't my room look more put together than my actual state of mind?!?! Argh!!!

Why can’t my room look more put together than my actual state of mind?!?! Argh!!!

Ah! This is why we pay professionals!!!!

I am armed -armed I tell you!- with $3000!!! Yes I am! $3000 hard-fought American dollars to remodel my new condo! Woooo hooooo!!

That’s enough right? To redo the counters, replace the flooring, fix the electrical, AND buy a storage bed from IKEA yes?

Yup. Yes I am.

Yup. Yes I am.