A Time For Everything…

A co-worker had the Weekly World News at her desk today, a tabloid I had never seen before, much less read. I flipped through it carelessly. On page 2, a large announcement: March 26 is wear your thong to work day. What will they think of next?

I See….

A blonde and a redhead were walking through the park. The redhead turns to the blonde and says, “Poor thing! Look at that dog with one eye.” The blonde covers one of her eyes and says, “Where?”

Eternal Sunshine…

We had planned to walk to the bridge, enjoying the sunny, Sunday afternoon, catching up on each other’s lives, enjoying each other’s company. But as we began our walk, the temperature dropped drastically, leaving us shivering and reconsidering our activity choice. We quickly changed course and headed to the local movie theater; we both wanted to see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

108 minutes later, I sat numb. Sad. Depressed. Utterly despondent. Tired. I looked over at Tricia, wondering if she shared my emotions. She tossed her head and said, “At least we saved two dollars by coming to the matinee.”

I’ve had several hours to process the story, and can’t pinpoint why I’m still so sad. The basic plot is this: Joel and Clementine date, break up, and each have all memories of the other erased from their minds. During the process, however, Joel realizes he doesn’t want to lose all memories of Clementine. A struggle ensues.

It made me think of all my past relationships. Would I, had I the opportunity, choose to erase all memories of any of my past relationships? As bad, as painful, as some, as many, of those relationships have been, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even consider it. Even in the worst of my relationships, there were moments of tenderness, of intimacy, that I still cherish. And I wouldn’t choose to erase just the bad memories either, leaving me with just the good. I don’t want to forget the bad either. Maybe it’s the remembering of all of my memories that has made me sad. Or maybe it was witnessing all of the beautiful memories of Joel and Clementine vanish into oblivion.

The movie’s promo tagline is, “You can erase someone from your mind, getting them out of your heart is another story.” I think of all the people I’ve had relationships with, both male and female, that still occupy a territory of my heart, even though consciously they’re not in my life. Maybe that’s what I’m mourning.

“Sometimes I would rather that people take away years from my life than take away a moment.”

–Pearl Bailey

The phone rang; I didn’t recognize the number. As soon as I heard his voice, I burst into a smile. We talk every now and then, on average about once every six months. We dated many years ago then he moved back to Canada. We never really “broke up,” time and distance simply made it impossible to continue our relationship. After the cursory, “How are you?”s and “How have you been?”s we settled into the “What have you been up to?”s. This is the part that pains me when trying to communicate to those I only speak to on a random basis. How to capture the moments, those events, those special instances, that make up a life? I can say I traveled to London, but how to express the inspiration felt at the final curtain of Les Miserables, the empathy for those dead on stage? How to convey the elation of seeing multiple Picassos at the Tate Modern? I can say I received a promotion at work, but how to impart the surprise, the relief, the excitement I felt as my manager hugged me? As we spoke, I fell into the trap of trying to impart the “big picture” of life in San Francisco rather than focusing on those small moments that embody joy.

“Ronald McDonald Made Me Do It”

It pains me to think that Americans actually considered blaming the food industry for the obesity problem that plagues them. I am quite happy that the House of Representatives voted against the “Cheeseburger Bill.” I am somewhat dismayed that it was not unanimous. People, people, take responsibility for yourselves.

Flip Flop Girl

I never was a fan of the flip flops, until tonight. After my first pedicure of the spring season, my toes sparkling blood red, I decided to wear flip flops for the rest of the evening rather than risk a smeared toenail.

I walked through the park, warm breezes blowing, my skirt billowing in the wind. Flip, flop. Flip, flop, smacked the pink plastic against the soles of my feet.

In the grocery store, up and down the aisles, flip, flop. Flip, flop. Normally agitated by the throngs of after work shoppers, I didn’t seem to mind. My entire body had gone into beach mode. Flip, flop. Flip, flop.

I walked home, up through Russian Hill. A group of older men gathered outside a house, smoking cigars. I crossed the street to avoid the smoke. I heard one of them muse, “That sound. That sound. It’s so mesmerizing – where is it coming from?” I felt heads turn as my hips sashayed. Flip, flop. Flip, flop.

I walked over Nob Hill, through the quiet streets perfumed with wisteria. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. “Hey,” I heard a voice call from up above. “Hey, beauty! Hey…” I continued. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. “Hey, flower girl.” I looked down. I was indeed carrying a bouquet of calla lilies, but for some reason didn’t think the yeller was beckoning to me. Flip, flop. Flip, flop. “Hey, flip flop girl! Bella!” I turned around and smiled at the man waving from his third story window, before continuing down the hill. Flip, flop. Flip, flop.

Not a care in the world, just me and my pink flip flops.

In The Park

“What’s that up in the tree – that orange thing?”

“I don’t know, maybe a dog toy?”

“I think I’ll shimmy up the tree and find out.”

Emily stared at me in disbelief. “Lori, I’m the first to promote your various talents, but I dare say that I don’t think shimmying is one of them.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay, then, I think I’ll find a four-leaf clover…”

Happy Birthday, Santo!

Today Amy and Al became proud parents of Santo. From her birthday book, Tricia gleaned this: “Santo, You are The Day of the Great Leap! Your strengths are Daring, Intense and Visionary!”

Welcome to this world, Baby Santo!

Busy As A Bee, Bee, Bee

Do we really need mascots for the Oakland Airport Construction project? Apparently so, as BuzzBee and BeaBee have been selected as the only brother-sister mascot team in America.

Home of the Whopper

“For here or to go?” As Tricia and I began to say, “To go” Emily had already told the order taker, “For here.” We looked at her questioningly. The one inconsistency in Tricia’s otherwise flawless character is that she loves Burger King. Absolutely adores it, craves it, can’t get enough of it. And since it was her birthday celebration, she got to choose where we would eat. So here we were, at Burger King, in a somewhat questionable area of town. “Are you sure?” we tested Emily. “Yeah, we don’t want it to get cold on the way home. Let’s eat it here, while it’s hot.” For some reason neither Tricia or I wanted to blurt out the politically incorrect, “But it’s dirty here. There are homeless people circling. There are drug dealers right outside the door, ready to peddle their wares.” Instead we nonchalantly shrugged our shoulders and headed to a table.

As we ate our double cheeseburgers and chicken whoppers, still steaming hot, a dazed woman swooped over our table, veering somewhat uncontrollably. With a glazed look in her eyes, she muttered, “Sorry, ladies, sorry,” and swooped away. We continued our conversation. Another woman approached us, “Ladies, ladies,” she slurred. She held out flowers, in a motion to sell them to us. “We’re not interested, but thanks,” Emily offered. “No, no, no, listen to me. Listen to me NOW!” as she came precariously close to our faces. “We really don’t want anything, thanks,” Emily tried again. “I ain’t trying to sell you anything. I… I… I…” she looked at the bouquet in her hand. “I… I want to tell you a joke!” Emily tried again, firmly saying, “We’re trying to have a conversation, we really don’t want to hear a joke.” She huffed away, beginning a tirade that got louder and louder the longer it went on. “I just wanted to tell you a JOKE! You would ‘ave laughed. Yeah. No! No, you wouldn’t ‘ave. You’re probably too stupid to even laugh at my joke. You’re too stupid and too ugly. Yeah. Real ugly. I used to be a yuppie too. But I wasn’t an ugly yuppie. I wasn’t a bitch. You’re all ugly and stupid. STUPID.”

Tricia glanced up. “Two words. Take out.”