Slug
I wish I had an adventurous excuse for my lack of postings. Unlike others, I was not training for a marathon or actually running a marathon. I wasn't even watching the Olympics, nor was I engaged in my myriad other productive activities such as pursuing a second career as beta tester for tempurpedic mattresses. I must embrace my slug-like nature, or perhaps I need to acknowledge my mourning period for Michelle Kwan's departure from the Olympics.
The last 2 weeks I have:
-- Spent 30 minutes circling the Haight in search of parking. This is my least favorite neighborhood in San Francisco and empirical studies commissioned by Lunamania also reveal that it is by far the most annoying neighborhood in the Western hemisphere. However, I found myself on the wrong side of the Bay and in need of some vinyl. I don't know if obtaining a reggae re-mix of Mariah Carey's Always Be My Baby was worth dodging my way around the nastiness. ok, it was worth it.
-- Admired Yukari's nerd factor--this is someone who actually flew across the country to attend a 2-day Jaques Derrida conference. I am proud to keep company with someone who can precisely define eschatology and teleology in less than 12 words. My goldfish memory prevents me from sharing her accessible explanation...
-- Schooled Elaine on the finer points of duck-dom. More precisely, I disavowed her of the notion that all water fowl are ducks. In fact, only ducks are ducks. Tautological? Yes, but this is not a lesson in logical reasoning. Really, everyone knows that there are 3 kinds of ducks--the mallards with the blue spots on their wings, the white ones, and the kind that are tasty with scallions, cucumbers and a bit of plum sauce.
-- Made the pilgramage to Vik's with fellow worshippers and then ate way may oysters at Tomales Bay.
-- Cursed/blessed Catherine for directing me to TWiT podcasts
For those who care to know, I'll be spinning at this event tomorrow.
