This Is So Not My Happy Face!

You do not want to see this expression on my face.

What follows can be really ugly.  I don't "lose it" very often, but when I do, it is far from pretty.

Even my dog, Crazy Zoe, knows to cower if she sees me giving her this face.  She instantly drops to the ground and quivers.

See that solemn expression can turn ugly in a heart beat.  When it turns ugly, man and beast better grab their shit and run.  You can generally tell I'm not happy when my lip starts to curl up and my eyes get hinky.

On Sunday night, we took Ziva and M back to their hotel in San Francisco after dinner.  I had pushed a large bag of plums into their hands as they were leaving our house.  In San Francisco, Alex parked in front of their hotel and we all got out of the car to say our goodbyes.

I was hugging Ziva and on the verge of tears because she was leaving.  A big stoned and dirty homeless man was bothering Alex and M.  I saw Alex put some change in his cup.  The homeless guy was being obnoxious and telling M to "Give me some of them plums."  I really didn't want that man to touch any of us or our belongings.  I took the bag of plums from M, opened it, and took out one plum.  I gave it to the homeless man who immediately shouted "Naw, I want two plums."

A slight explosion went off in my head.  I was going to cause great bodily harm to this belligerent son of a bitch if he didn't get the hell away from us right that moment.  I saw Alex get really tense out of the corner of my eye.  I saw Ziva look a little nervous too.  I was ready to go all  ghetto on this man.  I was within two seconds of taking off my stiletto and shoving the heel up the guy's ass.

San Francisco has more than its share of homeless.  Most of the people are polite in their requests for some help.  I usually dig in my purse for change or for a dollar.  I have given a lot of money to homeless people over the years.  Sometimes I smile vaguely and say "sorry" as I walk on past.  Most of the homeless population are polite even if I don't "help them out".  They tell me to have a nice day or say "God bless you." and as far as I'm concerned, that's fine.

But having some angry jacked up mofo trying to scare and intimidate young visitors sent me into a rage.  I shook with anger half the way home.  I'm very glad I didn't have some kind of a weapon because I would have sprayed pepper spray in that dude's face so fast it would have made his head spin.

I love San Francisco.  I hate seeing people foul the City's image and reputation.  If this was an isolated case it wouldn't have made me so angry, but it happens all the time.  The City needs to take a close look at how detrimental the "tolerant" policy can be when it comes to aggressive panhandlers.

Fortunately, the homeless man was not so far gone that he ignored the warning I gave him.  He moved on.  Good thing too.  I was ready to puncture him with my stiletto shoe.

The Blue Glass Box

As the crow flies, she traveled about 5,363 miles to get here.  Of course, we all know that airline travel is never really "as the crow flies".

The trip from Turku, Finland to San Francisco, California took almost 24 hours.  

I met Ziva several years ago when I discovered her blog, "Ziva's Inferno". I was dazzled by her intellect and her writing talent.  Ziva has almost a magical quality to her rhetoric as well as a wicked sense of humor.  She's sophisticated, witty, and sometimes a little bit naughty.  What's not to like!

I knew Ziva's (then) partner "M" traveled to the US on business once in a while, and I begged Ziva to make the trip with him.

I was thrilled and shocked when I got an email from Ziva saying she would be in San Francisco a couple of days ago.  We set a date for Sunday evening to have dinner.  Alex and I both decided to bring Ziva and M here to our home, rather than just meeting them in the City at a Bistro.  (When I'm traveling, I get very tired of dining out and long for something "home cooked".)  Alex decided he would make his famous Shrimp Creole for dinner and I would contribute a wilted spinach salad.  (And, of course, chocolate torte for dessert!)

We drove to the City to pick Ziva and M up at their downtown hotel.  They were waiting for us out front when we arrived.  I was thrilled to finally meet this gorgeous young woman and her now husband M.  By the way, they are both exquisitely beautiful and they make a perfect couple!  M is auburn haired with sparkly eyes and a wonderful smile.  Ziva has almost waist -ength shiny tresses and looks like a movie star with a smile that makes your heart lurch!  Wow! 

Before I met Ziva, I never really thought about Finland one way or the other.  Now I'm wondering how soon I could get there!  We had a fantastic evening and the dinner was lovely.  I was delighted that both Ziva and M are 'dog friendly' and Zoe had an almost pathological penchant for Ziva.  We had to push Zoe away several times to keep her from showing so much sloppy affection to Ziva.

Unfortunately, the evening had to come to a close much too early.  Alex had to work this morning so we took Ziva and M back to their hotel about 9:30 so that Alex could get some sleep.  Before they left, Ziva gave me a gorgeous blue glass box.  It really is a special piece.  I knew immediately that I wanted to put my pearls in that gorgeous blue box.  Now I have one place to go for two of my most precious "things".

Not to be remiss, I must add that Ziva and M also brought us little boxes of wonderful Finnish candy.  Now, I had heard from a number of well respected sources that this Fin candy was "different".  I actually liked it!

After leaving the couple off at their hotel, I had tears in my eyes.  I hate it when people I love leave me.  I know they'll be back one day, but it hurts none the less.  We had given M a bobble head doll of Ryan Vogelsong (a San Francisco Giant's pitcher), and a big plastic bag of plums that had just been picked off our plum tree.  I wish I could have given them the ability to stay with us for a longer time.

Alas, with Ziva, a longer time would never be enough.  She's the kind of girl you can never let go of completely.  The glow of her is still in my heart and always will be.

Tricks For Screwy Teeth

Okay, my teeth are fine now. 

But, there is a trick to use if you ever have the kind of problem I did with my Bugs Bunny temporary veneers. 

This trick also works like a charm if you have red or swollen eyes. 

Are you ready?

Girls, show some bosoms!  Nobody even looks at your teeth or eyes if you are flashing a bit of bosom.  This trick is also good for bad hair days, pimples on your nose, or even if you have crossed eyes.  Believe me, the guy at the store won't be wondering about the pimple on the end of your nose when you are at the check out counter.  He will never notice that your teeth look like those of a seriously deranged rabbit.

My dentist yesterday seemed surprised that I had been concerned and unhappy about my very long, to the right slanted front teeth for 10 days.  She said, "I thought they looked fine."  (Never trust a dentist to tell you the truth.)  The dentist also told me that the porcelain veneers would look perfect.  (I didn't trust her with that one either.)  Much to my surprise, (and delight), that part was true.  They do look fine.  The color is perfect as it matches all my natural teeth.  One of my fears is that I would have two snowy white chicklets replacing my two front teeth.

I have had a recurring nightmare for years.  I'm out somewhere in public and I bite into an apple.  My two front teeth come out in the apple.  There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.  I'm horrified realizing that my teeth are just "gone".  As a result of this dream, I make sure to never eat apples in public, okay I don't eat apples at all now. 

Apples are bad in a lot of ways.  Look at Adam and Eve.  If it hadn't been for an apple, we'd all be running around naked in the Garden of Eden being pain free and happy all the time.  This all sounded a bit strange to me actually.  If it was true about Adam and Eve and the Snake and the apple, why isn't the first commandment "Thou shalt not eat apples"?

Now all I have to do is pray I don't lose these veneers in my sleep and swallow them.  I really can't afford to do that.

Nor can I afford to buy a bunch of new low cut sweaters.

A Little Long In The Tooth (Literally)

I had a bad day.

Last Wednesday, I bit into something and chipped one of my front teeth.  I made an appointment for the dentist that afternoon, not wanting to wait and make it worse.

My dentist is a lovely young Vietnamese woman.  She fixed me up like new (actually better than new), but she also admonished me that my two front teeth were "worn" and they would continue to chip unless we did something about them.

I was curious about what she recommended because she had at one point tried to steer me toward veneers.  I had been fairly clear that I really had no interest in what she called "a movie star smile".  (To me, the overly white and perfect teeth look like chicklets.)  My dentist again mentioned veneers made of porcelain and assured me she could match my existing natural teeth in color.  This would be a very simple process and would solve my problem of thin and worn front teeth.  I thought about it for a moment and said, "All right!  Let's do it." 

I went in last Friday and she made a mold (ugh) of my teeth and the proceeded to file the teeth down to about half of their normal length.  This required that I get a shot to numb me and I really didn't expect the shot either.  (This was a simple procedure, right?)  When I saw that the teeth were now munchkin sized, I got a little scared but she assured me that she would make me some temporary veneers until the real ones got back from the lab in about 10 days.

There was another mold taking event that included acrylic stuff that hardened too much in my mouth, got stuck,  and had to be chipped out.  By this time, I am not much of a happy camper.  My dentist was sweating and swearing in Vietnamese by this time because the mold goo and acrylic didn't want to come off my teeth.  I was going into full blown panic attack mode.  She tried to reassure me by saying "Oh this is nothing!", but I was far from reassured.  I could visualize the real teeth breaking off completely with the chips of acrylic. 

Finally, she got the stuff off my teeth and she announces she has to make another mold.  I asked her if I couldn't just go with the munchkin teeth for two weeks and she said no.

The two hour process was finally over I thought.  I sat up and she handed me a mirror.  I had two big bunny teeth, about twice as long as my original teeth staring back at me in the mirror!  I started laughing (but it was a bit hysterically).  She asked me if they were too long and I snorted saying "Are you kidding?  Look at these things!".  (I think my laughing scared her a little bit!)  She said, "Yeah, they looked shorter when you were lying down.)  I was sputtering with laughter and thinking I was going to wet my pants.

The dentist filed the teeth down a little and said "How about now?".  I took a look and said "Great!" although they were far from great.  I now had two long chicklet teeth that both slanted slightly to the right.  (My original teeth were not crooked.)  I asked her if the veneers would look better than this and she swore that they would.  I simply couldn't stand one more minute in the dentist's chair so I said they were fine.

I got home and showed Alex and CT.  Both of them said "Oh they look fine!"  What liars those two are!  I looked like Jessica Rabbit or Bugs Bunny.  One or the other. 

I was blurting out my tale of woe about the munchkin teeth and such when Alex made me feel so much better by saying, "It's just like getting plastic surgery.  You just can't go get a new nose and say that you want your old nose back!" 

Now that really helped.

A Kiss Is Just A Kiss

Isn't that romantic?

Just a little kiss between friends.  That's fine.

I remember my first non-family kiss when I was about 10 years old.  A boy kissed me on the lips.  I was pretty much unmoved by the kiss.  In fact, I thought it rather a strange thing for him to do.

When I was 13, I had a boyfriend who was 16, soon to be 17.  Jim had his own car and was going to be a senior at the high school I would attend in the fall as a freshman.

Jim was a tall blond guy and most of the girls I knew were crazy about him.  He had an easy manner and won over my mother almost immediately.  When he asked her if he could take me to the movies, she said yes.  However, her caveat was that we had to walk to the movies as she didn't want me in a car with a boy.  Actually, I think my mother was so delighted that I had stopped being a total tomboy that she would have agreed to letting me date any male no matter what his age.

I thought the guy was okay, but I wasn't enchanted all that much.  Jim was about 6'4" tall and since I was 5'3", I thought we looked sort of stupid together.  As we walked down the street toward the movie theater, Jim told me he had parked his car around the corner and we could take it and Mom would never know.  I told him no.  Either we walked or I would just go back home.  (I didn't lie to my mother.  Okay, yeah, I lied to her but I didn't want to get in the car with this guy.)

We watched the movie and he tried to hold hands during it.  Our hands were sticky from popcorn and it was gross.  We walked back to my house after the show and talked and laughed a little.  I really wasn't sure what the hell he wanted from me.  I was about to find out.

Jim came up on the front porch with me and I got my key out.  All at once he bent over almost in half and kissed me!  No big deal, right?  Excuse me!  Big fat deal.  The guy stuck his tongue in my mouth.  I was paralyzed with horror and disgust!  Excuse me?  I mean, I knew about how babies came to be and all, but nobody had warned me that guys like to stick their tongues in girl's mouths!

Jim was my boyfriend for the next year.  He drove me to school and home from school every day and bought me lunch too.  That made him a pretty good boyfriend.  Of course, we did get to go out in his car eventually and he spent most evenings just trying to get me to "park" somewhere with him.  I really had no interest in French kissing and getting my boobs felt, (not with him anyway). 

I was madly in love with Jim's best friend, Gene.  Gene could stick his tongue in my mouth any time he wanted.  Alas, it was not to be.

Wife For Lease

I finally figured out what I'm really good at!

I am really a good wife.  Last weekend, my girlfriend CT moved in with me and my husband Alex.  CT is one of my oldest and best friends.  She recently sold her condo and left this morning on a planned vacation to Texas to see her family.

Rather than rushing into finding a place to live right after the two week close on her condo, she accepted my invitation to stay with us while she sorted out her living situation.  CT is an architect, an artist, and a truly fun person.  Alex loves her as much as I do.  CT and Alex share a birthday and a love for goofy movies, including sci-fi and slasher films.  I'm at a loss to understand either of them.

CT is a pretty low maintenance woman.  She's staying in the blue bedroom off the parlor because she has allergies and the dogs fur is abundant in Harry's apartment.  Harry's apartment has more space, but CT prefers the pet-less blue room.

I am delighted to have her with us.  CT was amazed that I actually cook a complete dinner every night.  She was astounded when she found out that I pack a lunch for Alex every evening and that I also pack one for her.  I think what really blew her away is that I do laundry (including hers) three times a week. 

Alex and CT get home after work about the same time.  They both come in and I ask them if they'd like a beer or a glass of wine.  They both change into "play clothes" when they get home.  After they change, they sit in the kitchen chatting and watching me cook while they enjoy their pre-dinner libations.

After dinner, I encourage CT to join Alex while he walks the dogs.  When they are out on their stroll, I clean up the dishes and make their lunches and set the coffee pot up to be turned on in the morning. 

CT had a late meeting last night.  She didn't get home until after 8 PM.  Alex and I had beef tacos for dinner, but I made a tuna salad for her because she is not really that keen on red meat.  The tuna salad was served on a bed of lettuce, with chilled asparagus, heirloom tomatoes, hard boiled egg, red onion rings, and capers.  CT commented that she would have to start giving me "wife money" like Alex does.

Actually, I couldn't agree with her more.  This random comment made me realize that I'm sitting on a gold mine.  (Okay, "sitting on" might be a little more racy than I intend  as it might imply something a little more carnal in nature.) 

In any case, I can see a market for this type of service. I'm cheerful and I smell good.  I usually make an effort to look attractive before my spouse comes home from work.  I'm a good cook and a proficient and reliable laundress.  I raise my own herbs to ensure that they are fresh for my family.  I can discuss current affairs with ease.  I take accurate telephone messages.

I'm thinking I could supplement my income by hiring out as a "professional wife".  When I was a working woman, I would have loved to have had me at home.  I would have paid dearly for someone who cooked meals, kept my house clean, and did my laundry, was attractive and smelled nice  and did it all with a smile!  I would have never even considered making sexual demands of someone like me.   (Well, maybe I would have, but I also know that extra service would have cost a lot more money.)

The "professional wife" business is really a good idea, don't you think?

Why Buy The Cow If The Milk Is Free?

Okay, I give up!  Why?

My Mother used this saying to keep me virginal for a long time.  She convinced me that there was an absolute correlation between having unmarried sex and buying a cow.

I think I was 9 the first time she imparted these words of wisdom to me.  I would be 15 before i realized that one thing really had nothing to do with the other.

I don't even like milk, never mind if it's free or not.  And believing that a man would chose a wife so that he no longer had to pay for milk was simply ridiculous.

Mom had a few things wrong, and a few things right.  One thing that was big with my mother was manners.  She wanted her 4 daughters to be polite and to have perfect table manners.  I got the polite part.  I am always polite until it's time to not be polite, but that's another subject all together.

When we were quite young, about twice a month Mom took us on the streetcar to downtown San Francisco for lunch.   We all got very dressed up for the occasion, white gloves, dresses, shiny black patent shoes.  At the time, I was about 7, my younger sister 5.  (The baby was only 3 so she stayed at home with a babysitter.)  We always went someplace "fancy".  Mom wanted to make sure we knew our table manners.  My sister and I looked forward to these outings as much as we looked forward to a dentist visit.

While we were encouraged to get whatever we wanted from the elaborate menus, we were also watched closely for behavior transgressions.  We got a sharp reprimand from Mom if we did not place our napkins on our lap, or if we spoke much above a well modulated whisper.  We were admonished to keep our elbows off the table and to maintain an upright posture while dining.  Further, speaking with one's mouth full simply wasn't done, nor was smacking one's lips while eating.

These hour and a half manners lessons were exhausting to me and my sister.  And we wondered why we didn't just go get burgers at the local drive in restaurant.  However, in time, the outings became much more enjoyable.  We learned not to break the rules and it all worked just fine.

Now this may sound harsh, but I used approximately the same training technique with my own kids.  From a very young age, they both learned what was and wasn't acceptable while dining.  I'm pleased to say that both of my kids have perfect table manners.

Perfect table manners is not really about always using the right spoon.  It not even about not laughing during a meal.  It really seems to me to be more about not hunching over one's plate as if you are afraid it will be stolen from you at any minute.  It's about bringing your food to your mouth while you sit upright, not leaning over the plate to make the distance between food and mouth as short as possible.  It's about not talking with a full mouth.  It's about not smacking your lips while you eat.  These things are really disturbing for me to watch.

It may not be fair, but it bothers me more when women show bad table manners than it does when men do it.  (It also bothers me more to see a woman drunk and obnoxious than it does to see a man similarly impaired.) 

While I still think my mother's free milk and cow reference was absurd, I have to give her kudos for teaching her kids table manners.  I'm sorry more parents don't understand that this is an invaluable life skill.

Although, I may be old now, good manners never go out of style.