Where's Che?

For a good couple years now, Astrid, DJ, and I have been playing a game called "Punch Che," in which we get to hit each other in the arm whenever we come across someone wearing the iconic image of Che Guevara. It's basically like "Slug Bug" 'cept the entire point is mocking people for buying into the unintentionally ironic marketing frenzy around one of history's most notorious leftist revolutionaries. I'm not a Che-hater, though being a pacifist, it's hard to get me behind the tactics of guerilla warfare (okay, a punching game doesn't count as violent; we're all consenting to being slugged.) It's not a criticism of Che, it's a game making fun of the absurdity of all the lily-white hippy kids who have no fucking idea what Che did or what he stood for wearing his image. Extra points for Che-wearing white kids with dreadlocks.

OK, so, on Sunday, during the insanity of Pride on Market Street right outside the posh Zuni Café, where Astrid, Giddy Girl, and I stopped for a very bougie bloody mary, and after running into my high school English teacher, who is a dyke, no less, at the bar, I spotted someone in a run of the mill Che t-shirt, and got to punch Astrid.

Then not five minutes later, another dude walks by with a Che t-shirt, this time the Argentine agitator emblazoned, tattoo-style, on the bicep of the equally recognizable popculture icon Homer Simpson. My brain broke, and I burst out in uncontrolled, tearful laughter at the sight of it. I'm sure many of you have seen Che's image mashed up with Homer before, but I guess I'd been under a rock. The brilliance of that many layers of irony packed together into a gimmicky t-shirt was just overwhelming to me.

A very Santa Cruz weekend

Ah, Santa Cruz. I miss it so, but it's always such a treat to get down there for a day or two. It was a fairly spontaneous plan. My old friend Vnes, who I hadn't seen in at least a couple years, was celebrating her 40th birthday, and I decided getting down there for the party would be a good excuse to make a weekend of it in the old stomping ground. Astrid and I met up with V and friends at Coaster's, a music/karaoke bar inside the Boardwalk Bowl where the ticket included three bands: Santa Cruz locals Beaver Fever and Fainting Goats, and the SF-based Slow Trucks. We rolled into town at 11:30pm, so only caught the Slow Trucks, who I really enjoyed - they've got an indy, Pixies-ish appeal, and the girl drummer had a charmingly removed-concentration that made the dykes in the house all swoony. It was priceless to see V's face when we arrived - a really lovely birthday surprise.

Astrid and I then went to Exene's new digs to spend the night, where we were joined by other San Francisco interlopers, Raquel and Juju. The next morning, we all met up with V for the mandatory breakfast at Zachary's (sourdough pancakes! artichoke frittata!) and then Astrid and I had some relaxed alone time. Strolled around Pacific Avenue, got a nibble at the Bagelry and then went for a soak at the Well Within. Saturday with Astrid was the second monthly "Luxuriate Day" in which we are committing to a full day of intentional, relaxing alone time together, an unplugging from the internets and the daily grind and a turning on to only nourishing, de-stressing, and healthful activities for our bodies/minds and togetherness. Hot tubs most definitely fit into all the above categories. Astrid's back was feeling particularly tweaked as well, so she scheduled a massage directly after our tub, during which time I walked back up to Exene's and lounged with the ladies on the upstairs deck, where they had arranged a mid-afternoon snack of olives, gouda and manchego, rice crackers, almonds, and tequila for sipping. I opted for water at this juncture, but alcohol was to figure prominently in the evening hours to come.

After break time with the girls, I drove back downtown and picked up Astrid, and we set a course for West Cliff Drive* for a more brisk walk filled with sea air and beautiful vistas. We hung out at a couple special spots on the cliffs, holding each other and appreciating the hell out of our amazingly connected and yet freeing relationship. It was a perfect cap to the Luxuriate portion of the day. Time to party with the ladies and meet Exene's new beau, Caleb.

So we got back to Casa Exene, and Caleb was dude-ifying at the Weber, in the most non-dudely dude way. Juju was in close tow, making sure the grilling operations were running smoothly. We grilled veggie skewers with onions, red bell pepper, and crimini mushrooms; huge portobellos brushed with olive oil and a little s&p, zucchini, fresh corn, and various varieties of chicken and turkey sausage. For sweets, we had brandied cherries, and we grilled up some pineapple slices and halved peaches, serving 'em up with Raquel's hand-whipped cream. The word is decadent.

All the while, the lot of us were getting nice and sauced on various drinks of choice. Exene's housemate Fela blended up fresh-frozen strawberry margaritas, which were as tasty as they sound, but several of us, including yours truly, opted for the icey comforts of locally-distilled Sarticious gin. There may have been some wacky tobacky involved, but I'm not naming names. And as it happens when in the company of wonderful friends old and new, fantastic food and drink, and a bit of stoney energy, the evening and conversation eventually devolved into glorious and giggly repartée, covering any number of topics from singing-drummers to trying to articulate to each other, drunkenly, our personal most passionately geeky areas of interest. The population of the room, being filled with both academically-oriented geeks as well as students of the live-life-to-the-fullest school, came up with personal-project callings as related and disparate as sex and polyamory, to memory and the operation of narrative and story, to death anxiety, to semiotics, to literature, to Looney Tunes. And then the weekend concluded with a lovely brunch with old pal Oliver at the Other Must-Go Santa Cruz breakfast eatery, Café Brasil, where I devoured perfectly poached eggs on a bed of sautéed spinach and mushrooms, covered in a rich brown cocota sauce. My mantra for the weekend: good shit.

* West Cliff photo by Astrid; Link goes to Scott Haefner's site for some awesome coastal shots.

Stranded at the Drive-In

Well, actually stranded at Oakland International Airport. Our flight to Southern California is delayed by an hour and change, and Astrid and I are biding time by keeping the economy going with unnecessary purchases of $3.00 soft pretzels and $2.00 bottles of water. They've got free wifi here, clearly, since I'm blogging, but in order to use it, I had to click my agreement in the form of viewing a 30-second commercial for little Ronnie Howard's new movie. I would have linked Frost/Nixon for you here, but the annoying condition of using Oakland Airport's wifi seems to extend to disallowing one to capture the URL of sites visited. Surf without the turf, I guess.

Astrid is currently sitting by my side, reading the new "episode" (as she endearingly calls each issue) of Bitch Magazine which I also would have linked for you here [[wrings hands at Oakland Airport]]. She just drew the mag closer to her widened eyes as she read news that Abercrombie & Fitch evidently has been making thongs (the undergarment, not the plastic sandal) for the 8 to 10 year old set. We shared a moment of appropriate shock before each of us sank back into our jaded time-killing slumber.

I'm looking forward to spending xmas with Astrid's family again. I have to say, even though I'm not into that Jesus guy, well at least not into the institutionalized religion claiming him as the son of god, I really do enjoy celebrating the holiday. The smell of pine needles, buttery sugar cookies, hot toddies, family, cheer, whatnot. For the first time in maybe ever, I've missed my family's Chanukah party, which happened this evening in San Jose. I'm a little sad about it, and I miss them, but I'll be able to see them at our annual retreat and hootenanny (which I most certainly would have linked for you here) down in Pacific Grove next weekend. Preparations on the family songbook are going very well, and my fingers are becoming properly conditioned (read: calloused).

Well, it seems like the plane is finally starting to board, so I'll bid you all a merry xmas/chanukah/kwanzaa and to all a good night.

xo

The 12 Poly Days of Christmas

I came across this video several months ago, and pledged to myself to spread it around this holiday season. It's adorable. If you don't catch all the lyrics, they are located here. My favorite verse is Seven. If anyone finds a poly song to the tune of Dreidel let me know! :)



Lots of love and snogs to you this holiday season!

xo
Bree

Thanksgiving

It's 5:00 AM and I've got nervous energy. I think it's 'cause I volunteered Astrid and I to make the stuffing for the holiday feast, which will commence in about 11 hours. I'm sure it will turn out okay, but as a friend called it yesterday, "You're making THE side dish!" The pressure is on!

Before looking at any recipes, I decided that these ingredients would be essential, and I went and bought them in mass quantities:

whole chestnuts
celery
onions and shallots
mushrooms
fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (which I failed to write in that order on the grocery list.)
veggie broth

Then, on scoping a few recipes for making stuffing from scratch, we went and got three huge loaves of sourdough which we'll toast in the oven to begin the process. We'll roast the chestnuts, sautée the veggies, combine everything, then bake the stuffing. It seems pretty straightforward and easy.

Another friend yesterday assured me that only three things could possibly go wrong:

1. The stuffing is too bland.
2. The stuffing is too dry.
3. The stuffing is too soggy.

The first two will be remedied automatically by dousing the stuff in gravy, so really aren't problems at all. The third means we're shit outta luck. I think I can handle this.

Another anxiety about the day ahead, though this is not what's keeping me up, is the probability that I will eat way too much food. I've been doing pretty well lately with "portion control," as the diet gurus might say, but Thanksgiving is a notorious rule-breaking event, and the entirety of the meal, aside from the turkey, is carbs, glorious carbs. I'm really glad I never went in for the Atkins diet. Not to malign it, because there are some sound scientific grounds for why it works, but I just don't think substantially reducing carbs and sugar over my lifetime is a sustainable strategy for me. I'm not much for sugar, anyway (it's really the easiest thing for me to control) but definitely decreasing highly refined carbs and increasing complex carbs like whole grains and veggies is something I've been focused on and continue to tackle. Anyway, today won't be a whole grain kinda day, but still, eating til I'm done and not keeling over from a gorged gut will be my modest health-conscious goal. That, and Astrid and I are planning to start the day, even before preparing the stuffing, by going to the gym and doing some cardio. She checked, and 24-hour is indeed open for business today. It'll be really interesting to see how many other people will be at the gym on a major eating-oriented holiday.

Gonna try to go back to bed now.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

For the Occasion of Astrid's Birthday...

I am planning the following luxurious meal for this evening:

Salad with arugula and hand-chosen lettuce mix with lemon vinaigrette dressing * Swiss chard and herb tart with two cheeses, fresh thyme and oregano * Greek gigantes white beans in a tomato/garlic/olive oil sauce * Tzatziki made with Greek yogurt, cucumber, garlic, and fresh mint *

My stomach just flipped from thinking about it. Maybe this meal will be a little too rich? And then the drinking will commence. It might be a Tums night. Maybe I'll save the tzatziki for another time.

Halloween Highlights

* Coming home from work to see Astrid dressed in tight black tights, a Batman (or Girl) t-shirt, tiny yellow shorts, and thigh-high black boots.

* Buying treats at the local health food store and offering one to a kid dressed as Spiderman as we were walking home. (He recoiled - don't you know you're not supposed to take candy from strangers?)

* Making out with Astrid in her tiny yellow shorts and tight black tights on the couch, waiting for guests to arrive.

* Eating chocolate and drinking whiskey at the same time.

* Seeing Dave dressed as his own Facebook page.

* Talking to Calisto about the racist, classist, and basically totally fucked up doctrine of a certain Russian-turned-Texan physics professor...

* ...And then getting a text message from Spider in Seattle who was, at that moment, witnessing what she described as a "straight man dressed as a leather daddy," performing the song All my Exes Live in Texas at a karaoke bar.

Happy Halloween, y'all!

Tuesday Evenin' at Home

Astrid and I had tender conversation over fresh rice paper rolls tonight. Now we're buying tickets to travel to the Mojave to visit her family for xmas, my second year with Astrid's folks on the holiday, and my third celebrating it with her. Even though I'm a secular atheist-leaning Jew, I've really come to love celebrating xmas in the desert with Astrid's once-fundamentalist and still conservative parents: not the exorbitant gift-buying, or the huge heaps of sugar, really, but just the being with them, the warm exchanges, the awkward exchanges, all the relating through chit chat, and playing dominoes, and long silences, and the buzz of Astrid's rowdy toddler nephews, and the love.

Graduation Day

Fuck yeah!

Bree by the Numbers, Redux

Okay, this is where it's at:

Thesis - done!
Psychopharm assignment: done!
Family Therapy paper: 5 pages to go
Psych Testing - 8 more reflection comments

One of each class to go. Classes are done on Thursday; graduation on Saturday.

Trying to hold a sense of accomplishment and freedom before freaking out about what's next. Deep breath. This is hard.

Hooray for Me!

I turned in the final draft on Friday, and what a feeling of relief and joy it was to read my professor's email today:

"Thesis complete! I’m attaching a copy of the certification page. Excellent work! It’s something to be proud of!"

Exhale.

Bree by the Numbers

8 to 10 more pages of my thesis
5 more psych testing assignments
4 more family therapy classes
4 more psych testing classes
3 more psychopharm classes
2 more psychopharm assignments
2 more fam therapy assignments
a bunch of paperwork
some graduation organizing

And the best number of the lot:
24 days til I have my master's degree!

::Big Sigh of Relief::

Draft Number Two is in my professor's hands. Thank fucking god. It's not as complete as I'd hoped it would be, but I feel like, just in the last couple days, I finally broke through the crushing weight of anxiety and got my writing groove back. After days and days of sitting at my computer, not producing anything at all, just editing and moving paragraphs around and feeling overwhelmed, I finally pushed through, finished my lit review, and began working on the actual thesis concepts. I have a fair amount more work to do to get to the final draft (due in about 4 weeks) but I'm not nearly as freaked out now. I've tasted what it's like to put forward my own ideas, and it's not as scary as I thought it was gonna be.

A very heartfelt thank you to a few people who lent support and inspiration in the final hours of the draft. First and foremost thanks to Ms. Astrid, who has loved me unwaveringly even though I've been a fucking wreck for weeks. Thank you to astro-b, DJ, and my family for letting me vent. And a very special nod to Mag, Dax, Ms. Crankypants, and The Undertoad for the last minute words of advice on the thesis writing process. Totally invaluable inspiration: thank you.

"Mawwage is what bwings us together today...."

Same-gender marriage is legal in California! (for the moment.)

I don't have a specific desire to get hitched; nevertheless, the news made me well up with tears this morning. Read the SF Chronicle article for more details. Essentially, the state Supreme Court overturned Prop 22, a limitation on marriage passed by voters in 2000. The majority opinion today ruled that denying same-gender partners the right to marry and form a family with the same rights and responsibilities as male-female partners is unconstitutional. It's about fucking time.

The bad news, however, is that there will be an initiative on the California ballot in November attempting to change the state constitution to ban same-gender marriage for good. Take a look at the CitizenLink page, a right-wing political organization's take on the signature drive to qualify for the ballot and "represent God's will" on marriage.

People need to turn out to vote this bullshit down. Hopefully, since the stakes are so high in the Presidential election, progressives and friends and family of LGBT folks will turn out in large numbers to put down this hateful initiative. But there will be more battles to come, no doubt.

Neverending Winter Break

Wouldn't it be nice if Winter break from school were an endless juggle of skiing, trips to the tropics, relaxing by the fire with expensive whiskey in my coffee mug, communing with friends and family in celebration of various festivals of light?

Well, I did have the celebrations of the season-appropriate holidays. But what if I were to tell you that, come Valentine's Day, I will likely still be out of classes? And as for the skiing and romps to Hawaii, it's a bit hard to vacation when you've been waiting for your financial aid check for months.

I'm sorry to be so cheeky, but that's just the mood I'm in. Truly I can't complain about the extra time off I've had, but on a budget, it's looked more like: sleeping in, playing Tetris, watching the remainder of Angel, Season Five, and cleaning the apartment. Woot, I say, woot!

Don't even ask me if I've worked on my thesis. Don't. I'll sock ya.

So, those of you who have been following the story already know that my crappy-ass college is in the midst of what one of my classmates has called a "hot mess." The latest news is that our faculty are threatening to resign as a group in order to force the administration to permit a "teach-out" to another institution, so that we can get on with our studies. The best case would be that our instructors could follow us to another school and we could continue our curriculum and finish sometime this summer. The worst case is pretty grim: the school shuts down and/or we can't secure a teach-out, and we have to drop out, get jobs, and re-apply to other programs, losing our clinical internships as well as most of the credit for classes we've already taken. And god knows what a pain in the ass it'll be to try to extract our loan money from the black hole that is our financial aid office.

So, yeah, thankful for the free time, but I can't say it's been terribly restful. I will report that my spirits are generally up. I feel really happy about my life other than the hot messiness of the school/money situation. Astrid and I celebrated our 1-year Shack-Up-iversary this weekend, by walking to the Mission to eat yummy tapas, then continuing our stroll for drinks at The Uptown, one of my fave dive bars, and then swing dancing at the Metronome in Potrero Hill. All the while, the evening was filled with oh-my-god-I'm-so-in-love-with-you-cooing and chatting and, yes, I am apeshit in love with that girl.

Today has been a truly relaxing day, even though I've been doing errands and such. It started with a much needed catch up breakfast date with my old pal Chauncy, for whom I made yummy sherry-poached eggs in a nest of wilted chard, onions and garlic, as well as fresh strong coffee and a bowl of fresh fruit - kiwis, bananas, and tangellos. Shoulda taken a photo of breakfast for you, sorry. Then I went to drop off dry cleaning (you don't wanna know how long it's been since my wool sweaters were laundered) and then I got my vote on. More on the presidential race later, perhaps. Are you curious who I voted for? Need I remind you that I'm registered Green...so I'm out of the Obama-Clinton tug o' war for the moment. Then I did a wee-bit of grocery shopping (I'm trying these high-fiber multi-grain tortillas that my mom has been raving about) and now I'm actually putting words to blog template. It's a good day, and there's so much more of it, ta boot. It really helps that it's sunny out.

On to the next thing.

xo

Happy Petunia Day!

Xmas in the Mohave

We're leaving tomorrow to visit Astrid's family for Christmas. She asked me the other day if I'm looking forward to it, and the answer is yes, with the caveat that on some level I'm pretty terrified, too. Astrid's parents have been really sweet to me, considering I'm a Jewish dyke and I'm sleeping with their daughter (who, naturally, is just going through a phase or is disappointed with men or is being seduced by the sinful San Franciscan lifestyle). Her dad and her brother are both men of few words, and even little miss chatty cathy me finds it hard to break on through. Her mom has been genuinely kind to me, and I have no rational reason to think that each subsequent visit won't get better and better. But it's weird, is all. At least her four year-old nephew likes to play zombies with me!

It's weird spending time with anybody else's family, really. Even my idiosyncratic Jewish liberal family in the 'burbs becomes an isolated culture in and of itself: I'm sure it's daunting to be an outsider there when we're all talking over each other in a frenetic storm of popculture/smalltalk/obsessive details of family esoteria. Sigh. Oh, and, we haven't bought any xmas gifts yet. There's that, too.

Merry whatever you celebrate, folks!
Peace and Bliss in the New Year!

xo
Bree

Backslash

Congrats to Ube and her man - they've got a new baby on their hands! Kaloo, kalay! Little Backslash has been born!

Breathe

My next nine days:

Tomorrow:
Read for class
Work on papers due for end of term for Child Psychotherapy,
Critical Theory, and Thesis classes
My final Critical Theory class
My final Law & Ethics class; 50-question final exam

Friday:
Penultimate* day at my Friday bookkeeping gig
Train new bookkeeper
Tranny March at Dolores Park
Party and general mayhem

Saturday:
Work on papers in the morning
LGBTQ filmfest local short films program
Dyke March at Dolores Park
Party and much more mayhem
Pink Saturday in the Castro
Even more partying and mayhem

Sunday:
Recover from the weekend
Work on papers
Avoid the Pride Parade
Reward myself with bloody marys

Monday:
Monday bookkeeping gig
Work on papers

Tuesday:
Work on papers
Final Child Psychotherapy class
More work on papers

Wednesday:
Wednesday bookkeeping gig
Final night to work on papers

Thursday:
Last chance to finalize all three papers
Therapy appointment
Turn in papers
Graduate Psychology Symposium on campus

Friday:
Last day at Friday bookkeeping gig
Last day of training with new bookkeeper

Breathe!

*I just learned that word!

The Flying Meatball Incident

On Monday night, after a lovely Memorial Day party* chez Mr. & Mrs. C and baby Pez, Astrid and I biked home through the Mission and decided to get dinner at Emmy's Spaghetti Shack. Neither of us had ever been before, and it was totally worth the hype. It's not the most extraordinary food you'll ever eat, but they serve really tasty, fresh grub, inventive drinks, and the space itself is really cozy. You've gotta get there super early to get a table, though. We'd tried before, and the line was out the wazoo. Anyway, Astrid got the pea soup with mint (deelish), a lavender martini, and a salad with arugula and speck (which neither of us had ever heard of, but A. wisely surmised the German origin of the name of this lovely, smokey cured meat). I got the spaghetti and meatballs, 'cause I'd heard their meatballs rock. And it turns out they are mighty nice, indeed, packed with lots of fresh chopped onions and garlic, and the spaghetti comes topped with a rich, tangy marinara sauce and lots of freshly grated Parmesan and minced parsley.

As I'm trying to be more mindful these days of how much food I shove down the gullet, I had a decent amount of leftovers, which the hipster waitress kindly packed for me in a Chinese take-out box. We wrapped the bill and departed, making our way through the crowd and out to our bikes. Before unlocking, I realized I'd left the leftovers on the table, and went back in to fetch them. The hipster waitress said, "It happens all the time," as she wiped the box off, having retrieved it for me from the garbage. I figured that if I get E.coli, it's my own damned fault. I put the box in my bike basket and we set off for home.

Not two blocks away from the restaurant, Astrid and I made a left off of Mission, and I hit a pothole. The take-out box went flying, and as I looked behind me out the corner of my eye, I saw the leftover meatball pop out of the carton, arch through the air, and bounce onto the pavement. Guess I didn't need the extra calories or potential E.coli infection.

xo
Bree


*B and I were expecting a Memorial Day Barbeque, not just a "party" featuring tamales and seven-layer bean dip. Not that the tamales and dip and mojitos weren't excellent, but, y'know, where's the *beef*? Oh yeah, it flew off my bike.