The Continental Divide

Bay 2 Breakers

2008-05-21T21:39:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday, I witnessed my very first Bay to Breakers. Let me recap it for you:

7:30am - leave the house dressed in our matching "flip cup champs" tank tops and booty shorts, with sweatshirts on top since it was a chilly and foggy morning.
7:45am - pick up Starbucks for a little caffeine boost
7:50am - find a bar for some shots of Bailey's to add to our coffees.
7:55am - while waiting at the bar, we have our first nudist sighting. A 60+ man walks in to the bar wearing nothing but a backpack, and asks us if we'll take his picture ordering a beer.
8am - wander out to the crowd gathered toward the beginning of the course. The sun is out and it starts to warm up. Sip our Bailey's and coffees and observe all the costumes/naked people.

Natalie is PUMPED:

People start throwing tortillas out of the apartments above us:

The crowd (including children) stares in awe:

Tortillas litter the street:

Oh look! It's a Turkey Dinner!

We met up with friends who were dressed as cowboys and indians (complete with a covered wagon containing 2 kegs) and slowly started on our way. There was a major shortage of port-a-potties, so this wall turned into a makeshift men's bathroom:

We made it halfway through-just to our neighborhood-before we called it quits and went home to continue the party. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. My favorite part was the people dressed as salmon that started at the end and ran "upstream" to the beginning of the race.

Emily stops to bust a move with this dude:

I don't know him, but this doesn't look too good...

All in all, quite a day.

2008-05-15T19:59:00.000-07:00

Best Gift of the Day

2008-04-17T23:29:00.001-07:00

I Like You
by Sandol Stoddard Warburg

I like you
And I know why
I like you because
You are a good person
To like
I like you because
When I tell you something special
You know it's special
And you remember it
A long long time
You say
Remember when you told me
Something special
And both of us remember
When I think something is important
You think it's important too
We have good ideas
When I say something funny
You laugh
I think I'm funny and
You think I'm funny too
Hah-hah
I like you because
You know where I'm ticklish
And you don't tickle me there
except
Just a tiny but
sometimes
stop
stop stop
help
help
But if you do then I know where to tickle you too
HELP
You know how to be silly
That's why I like you
Boy are you ever silly
I never met anybody sillier than me
till I met you
I like you because
You know when it's time to stop being silly
Maybe day after tomorrow
Maybe never
Oops too late
it's quarter past silly
We fool around the same way all the time
Sometimes we don't say a word
We snurkle under fences
We spy secret places
If I am a goofus on the roofus
Hollering my head off
You are one too
If I pretend I am drowning
You pretend you are saving me
If I am getting ready to pop a paper bag
Then you are getting ready to jump
HOORAY
That's because
You really like me
You really like me
Don't you
And I really like you back
And you like me back
And I like you back
And that's the way we keep on going
Every day
If you go away
then I go away too
Or if I stay home
You send me a postcard
You don't just say
Well see you around
Some time
Bye
I like you a lot
because of that
If I go away
I send you a postcard too
And I like you because
If we go away together
And if we are in Grand Central Station
And if I get lost
Then you are the one that is yelling for me
Hey where are you
Here I am
And I like you because
When I am feeling sad
You don't always cheer me up right away
Sometimes it is better to be sad
You can't stand the others being so googly and gaggly
every single minute
You want to think about things
It takes time
I like you because if I am mad at you
Then you are mad at me too
It's awful when the other person isn't
Phooey
They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about
punch them in the nose
I like you because if I think I am going to
throw up then you are really sorry
You don't just pretend you are busy looking at
the birdies and all that
You say maybe it was something you ate
You say the same thing happened to me one time
And the same thing did
If you find two four leaf clovers
You give me one
If I find four
I give you two
If we only find three
We keep on looking
Sometimes we have good luck
And sometimes we don't
If I break my arm and
If you break your arm too
Then it is fun to have a broken arm
I tell you about mine
You tell me about yours
We are both sorry
We write our names and draw pictures
We show everybody and they wish they had a broken arm too
I like you because
I don't know why but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you
I can't remember when I didn't like you
It must have been lonesome then
I like you because because because
I forget why I like you
But I do
So many reasons
On the Fourth of July I like you because
It's the Fourth of July
On the Fifth of July
I like you too
If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire-engines
We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?
Even if it was the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January
I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again
That's how it would happen every time
I don't know why
I guess I don't know why I like you really
Why do I like you
I guess I just like you
I guess I just like you
Because I like you

Gifted by Leslie Jauch. I like her.

It's your day

2008-04-17T05:38:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday, Lilly!

Here is a poem for you:

* * *
today you are a woman
tomorrow you are a lady
forever you are my big sister

i will always snuggle you
and rub your soft arm like a creep
i will annoy you by eating your food and drinking your diet coke
you will get angry and get road rage and punch me
especially when i change songs without your permission

but i will always think that things that are yours are also mine
aren't they?
i think that way because you're just so kind and generous
like natalie merchant says

when you call me a little photo of your face shows up
i can't make that happen for anyone else!
so everyday when you call, i see you
and i like that
because you're pretty and stylish

move to my coast so we can be close
i will buy you a puppy
* * *

Not sure where I'd be without you, Lils. Yous my rock.

See you in a month.

xo Fuzzy

Stolen

2008-04-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

I stayed at work late on Wednesday. I spent my overtime (not paid) browsing TMZ/USA Today for juicy news that would prepare me for Quiz Night at Crocodile Lounge so I could impress my old coworkers with my trivia skills. Then I made a stop at Forever 21 and stood in a line of 20+ NYU students so I could try on a pair of skinny bright blue jeans.

The moment I stepped into the fitting room and pulled back the curtain, my phone started vibrating. It was Kayla.

“HAVE YOU BEEN HOME YET?”

“No, why?"

“I THINK WE GOT ROBBED.”

The moment she said robbed, she hung up. I dropped everything I was holding and stared at myself in the mirror.

I have experienced a feeling similar to this very few times. It’s like everything tingles and then you’re numb. It feels like you have no control of your body and can’t form words or think or feel or live.

I called Kayla back.

“We did get robbed. This is not an April Fools joke, Mary Clare. I think you need to come home. Right now.”

I immediately called my Mother and the melt down began. I pushed though crowds of people – shaking and talking a million miles a minute. I finally collapsed on the steps in Union Square – in between protesters and skateboarders – and started sobbing.

I don’t remember getting home, but I’m pretty sure the whole train was staring at my clenched fists and swollen eyes.

Breakdown two happened when I realized they broke in through my locked bedroom window, knocking down all of my books and crushing a picture of Evelyn as a baby that I had in a white frame. They ransacked through our bedrooms - pulling apart our desks and drawers and moving furniture – leaving with our computers, cameras, jewelry, iPods, speakers and video camera.

Kayla and I go back and forth between anger/sad breakdowns to just being thankful we're safe.

I just want this mess to be over. I hate the quietness of the apartment and having to surf the Internet on my BlackBerry. I hate that all my photos and writing and music is gone. I hate that I was going to convert all the high8 video tapes from Vegas/the cabin/Chicago/Green Bay into DVDs for all my friends, and now I can't. I hate having to sleep with Kayla because I'm scared and I hate watching her hide the last of her precious possessions in the closet when we leave the apartment. I hate how we're all paranoid.

And with all the hates, there's a nice balance of love. We have renters insurance and I have the most wonderful and supportive family and friends in the world.

Not sure what I'd do without all the loves in my life - they keep me floating.

Google Stalking Danielle Steel

2008-03-31T22:03:00.000-07:00

This weekend I walked past Danielle Steel's house. It's this massive property at the top of a huge hill in Pacific Heights that takes up half the block. Since most of it is surrounded by a giant hedge, I couldn't resist checking out the bird's eye view. The grass is looking a little sparse. Shouldn't she have some Fabio-like gardeners out there working their magic? And look at the huge greenhouse! Or is that a pool? Hmm. Ok, now I feel like a stalker.

I actually knew very little about Ms. Steel before wikipediaing her just now. She's had quite a dramatic life, and who knew she had so many children?

Also, this is fun for about 5 minutes. I got these titles:

Enjoying His Russian Impression
Exposing His Eternal Hatred
Mixing Up the Justice
Stuck At Her Midsummer's Body
Digging Up the Smooth Being
Living With The Blonde Thoughts
Nick's Familiar Sword
Forgetting Her Uncontrollable Mustache

My new get-rich-quick scheme: become a trashy romance novelist. "Living With the Blonde Thoughts" will be my debut novel. It can't be that hard...but could I live with myself? In a house like hers? I think so.

Is Somebody Being Patriotic Over Here...?

2008-03-27T23:11:00.000-07:00

It was St Patrick's Day. This made Kevin want to take his shirt off, which somehow attracted a novelty hat-wearing conspiracy theorist. It also made me discover the video mode on my digital camera (that I've had for over a year now)

Oh, and Kevin somehow got the big guy to take his shirt off too. Fortunately, that moment was not captured on film.

We're all here

2008-03-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

I spent my afternoon with Wendy and Kitty. Wendy is rehearsing with her new band mates, The Bad Plus. Kitty is here for Spring Break. We spent the day eating cheap and buying cheap. How lovely it is to have family-like folks in town.

And the loveliness is not ending soon. Momma Rita and Auntie Madge get into town on Wednesday.

Plans include Blue Note, MoMA, 3 hour boat tour of the city, wandering through all of Brooklyn in hopes of finding Hannah and me a neighborhood to live in come September, eating and some quality mother/daughter time. I can't wait to have this woman living on my futon for the week/end:

I like these boys.

2008-03-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

Vampire Weekend lives up to the hype. I can't stop listening. Fuzz, go make friends with them so we can all hang out when I come to visit.

BFF Birthdays

2008-03-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

These are three of my best friends that live in Minneapolis. It's their birthdays - they're all (almost) 24.

They're the bestest friends a girl could ask for, and it would take a lot more than a blog post to say why. So instead, I will tell a fun story about each of them.

Happy belated Birthday, Linnea!

One Saturday night at Brother's, we found ourselves in the middle of a dance-off. Usually we have these in the bag - but this group was tough. Just when I thought we were going to have to forfeit to breath and get a glass of water, Linnea entered the circle. She looked around, smiled and squatted down low to get momentum for an enormous jump. Linnea didn't land the jump on her feet - she landed in the splits. The competitors left the dance floor.

Happy almost real birthday, Kristine!

One evening during finals week our freshman year, Kristine decided to go to the club (either The Bird or Cancun, I forget which). On her way home (at 2:30 AM), she thought she'd stop at Domino's for a pie. The door was open, but nobody was home! So Kristine decided to make her own meal - she sauced/cheesed/pepperonied up a pizza and threw it in the oven. While waiting for it to bake, she answered drunk phone calls from frats wanting food and cleaned up the kitchen. Then she turned off the oven and the lights, and walked home with her homemade pizza.

Happy early Birthday, Claire!

On the way to Rockford for our high school's homecoming football game (1999), the cheerleaders stopped for lunch at a sit down diner. I sat across from Claire and next to Kiley. Claire is notorious for having the best and most descriptive stories (i.e. the story about when her car got shot 3 times, the story about the week-o-tickets when she got a parking ticket, went to fight the ticket and got a parking ticket while doing so, then got a speeding ticket, then almost got a ticket for "rolling a stop sign" then...). So Claire's telling a funny one and I start choking on my pickle. I can't breath or stop laughing. I finally cough it up and it hits Claire in the neck. Kiley pukes. Claire pukes. Then we go cheer our boys on!

---
When I think about how much these three mean to me, my heart fills up to the brim and then spills over with happiness.

Sadly I'm unable to make it to the big birthday celebration this Saturday. So I'm spending the week in mourning, reminiscing alone with my iPhoto...

I love you, girls. I hope you have the happiest year yet.

XO

Damn the Man

2008-02-20T23:17:00.000-08:00

My plan tonight was simple: groceries, gym, laundry. I know, my life is so glamorous. However, after throwing a load in the wash, I realized I needed to reload my card. (This laundry room doesn't take quarters, only cards that can be filled with $10 or $20 at a time. LAME.)

I went to the machine only to find that it was missing. Apparently, the machine had been stolen, and until it was replaced, cards could be purchased in the rental office for $40. Who wants to put $40 on a laundry card at once? And furthermore, who is available between the hours of 9am and 6pm to purchase these cards? This is why I hate my apartment management company.

So I was left with the dilemma of the wet laundry. I don't know any of my neighbors (and after seeing a tranny in the elevator last weekend, I don't think I want to) so I couldn't borrow a laundry card. I remembered a scene in Uncle Buck, where he dries laundry in the microwave, but that seemed like too much work. So I ended up draping wet laundry on every available surface in my apartment.

I would include a picture, but it just looks way too pathetic in here.

Sky Blue Sky

2008-02-20T20:13:00.000-08:00

One of the best things about living in San Francisco is getting out of the city on the weekends. As much as I love it, the dirt, the smells, the cement, the noise, and the people can all wear you down. It's always good to get out, whether it's north or south, and see some wide open spaces.

Last Saturday morning, after a low-key night in, four girls woke up feeling well rested and without hangovers. This is a rare occasion, so we decided to break from our usual brunch/shopping/lounging routine and go for a hike.

The day was gorgeous, and afterward we sat on the beach with beers and champagne, and watched the sunset. So romantic. I guess it was our belated Valentine date, since Emily was too sick to join the rest of us for dinner on Thursday. I love these girls.

Call a motherf*cking exterminator.

2008-02-19T16:38:00.000-08:00

Last night at 12:30 AM I was awoken by banging, stomping and shrieking. I assumed that Kayla had just arrived home from her weekend in Minneapolis, and although all I did this weekend was sleep, I was pissed that she was being so loud. That is, until I received the following text message: Oh my GOD. We have a mouse in our house.

Look - my skin is tough (sort of). I've killed live cockroaches and picked up dead ones. I've had a fat rat cut me off while I tried to run up the steps of the Houston subway stop. I've eaten an entire bowl of cereal with milk that had expired a week prior. I've had a homeless man chase me. I've seen two men throw up on the subway and one almost die. I've even walked down the streets of NYC barefoot - a place where mice/cockroaches/rats do, too.

But honestly, nothing could have prepared me for last night's text message.

Kayla busted into my bedroom seconds after the text was sent. I could only make out her silhouette - her dark arms flailing in the air, body shaking. The story went like this: she walked into her bedroom, suitcase in hand and flipped on the lights just as the mouse zipped across the floor, landing safely behind her TV.

We screamed together and expressed how much we hated this city (it's a love/hate relationship, as you know). Then all we could think/talk about was the episode of Sex and the City where the mouse runs across Carrie's face as she's sleeping. And then all we could think/talk about was, why was the mouse in her room? She's clean. SO CLEAN. And I'm messy. SO MESSY. Sometimes I eat in my bed!

Does that mean there is a little mouse family living amongst my piles of t-shirts and dirty jeans?

I'm looking for someone to tell me what to do. Because I just can't do this. I can't. What's next? An albino rat?

Evelyn Considers the West Coast

2008-01-28T20:34:00.000-08:00

The whole point of the weekend was to tour the campus of UC Berkeley, but she didn't actually do that until the day they left. The rest of the weekend was spent cruising around the area, enjoying the weather, the ocean, the hills, the Haight...

She loved Haight-Ashbury (as we all knew she would) and tried repeatedly for a good picture of the street signs at the intersection. Unfortunately, the light wasn't quite right.

She did admire this lovely wall of graffiti though.

The girl is halfway through her junior year, and I'm wondering where she'll venture after high school. Hopefully out here. I think everyone would agree that she has a very west-coast personality. She would love Berkeley, and I would love having her just across the bay.

Then maybe we could convince the rest of the clan to follow...

Golden Valley Man Supports Local Shoeshiner

2008-01-28T20:00:00.000-08:00

While strolling through the delightfully authentic Fisherman's Wharf area of San Francisco, Michael Jensen was approached by a man peddling his shoe-shining skills. Mr. Jensen politely declined, but the man persisted on.

"I bet I could tell you where those shoes come from," he said. "If I get it right, will you be honest with me?"

Unbeknownst to the shoeshiner, Mr. Jensen values honesty above all else. "Of course I'll be honest with you," he said.

The man bent down to get a closer look, and immediately squirted shoe-shine goo on Mr. Jensen's left foot. "They come from your foot!" he said.

At that point, Mr. Jensen had no choice but to let the man shine his shoes. After all, they were looking a little lackluster from the daily wear, and this restored a nice, healthy sheen. When asked for a comment, Mr. Jensen chuckled.

"He got me. He got me good," he said.

Dear Evelyn,

2008-01-26T11:57:00.000-08:00

Seventeen years ago, you were born.

I have a vivid memory of that night in '91 - it involves me sleeping in your crib because someone needed my bed. I remember really enjoying that night's rest in a fetal position and waking up early to go visit you at the hospital.

You were the cutest baby in the world.

And now you're the cutest seventeen year old in the world.

I wish I were home to give you a hug and eat your birthday cake. You're my wise little sister and I love you so.

Happy Birthday.

xoxo Fuzzy

Happy Birthday, Mr. Jensen

2008-01-08T23:33:00.000-08:00

This guy turns a year older today. Sadly, the only picture I have of him is Christmas 2006, the year he got his first iPod. Did you ever get used to those headphones, dad?

Well, I hope you had a fantastic birthday. And don't worry, life is only going to get better each year. Just think, you have this to look forward to:

I see your future.

!Feliz Navidad!

2007-12-25T21:54:00.000-08:00

Hope all your Christmas' were joyful. So joyful that you took off your shoes and jumped! We did. Although, this photo is from 2006.

The Jensen Christmas was delightful. Lilly made a 4-layer Devil's Food Cake and Apple Pie and Rita cooked salmon with shallots and fennel which made everyone happy and full. We watched Arrested Development and Keeping up with the Kardashians as a family and opened gifts - some of which included a baby iPod, kitchen supplies, Tiffany bracelets, a box set of The Grateful Dead, and painting classes for Poppa Mike.

It's been a whirl and I'm sad to say that it's coming to an end. Lilly leaves tomorrow afternoon, Mike & Rita go back to work and Evelyn will continue to chill with her homeslices. I will be stuck here without a car, a fluffy pillow to sleep on, or hair conditioner. But I'm okay with that.

Holiday Party

2007-12-14T10:03:00.000-08:00

Last week we had a mini work Holiday Party. It was a splendid time - a lot of dips, dranks, charades and BOOGIE! on wii. Also, I turned into a roller skating nun! Wow!

The moment I slipped on those sparkly pink (too small) roller skates, I was transported back to my childhood. Not to the days spent playing fairies, falling out of trees or swimming for long periods of time in Lake Superior, but to the times spent roller skating in circles to The Chipettes record in the laundry room. Lil was always Brittany (the hot one) and I was always Eleanor (the fat one). I always wanted to be Brittany, but thinking back to Lil's claims at why I was "so Eleanor" totally make sense now. She ate a lot and had white hair.

The World Wide Web: My Favorites

2007-12-13T14:22:00.000-08:00

As of one hour ago, this was my favorite Web site. My Momma introduced it to me years ago and I was immediately hooked. I'm not sure what makes it so appealing - my love for Peter Pan or for creepy weird people that make costumes and then take pictures wearing them.

Pixie Man was good, but I have found something even better. I bring you, Sugar Bush.

Happy Monday!

2007-12-10T05:10:00.000-08:00

There's no better way to start your week than by sitting across from a man on the subway at 7:45 AM who throws up on himself, lights a cigar and then asks you, personally, if you'd like some of his Dunkin' Donuts coffee with skim milk.

Jensen Girls in SF: A Photo Essay

2007-12-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

Orphan Thanksgiving: San Francisco

2007-12-02T16:11:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays. Long ago, or sometime in the early 80's, the parentals started their own tradition of spending this holiday with their friends rather than the relatives. They called it the Orphan Thanksgiving. Over the years, the variables have included the location, menu, guest list, and activities. But one thing remained constant for all but one year. We always spent the holiday with Wendy and the Jensen Girls.

This year, three of us branched off for our own small celebration in San Francisco. MC arrived on Tuesday, Hannah arrived Wednesday morning, and we attempted our first Orphan Thanksgiving without our mothers. Although we had their support with recipes and tips, especially for the stuffing. This is always a key element to our Thanksgiving celebration.

We joined about 10 other orphans at my friends' apartment in Lower Haight. Emily impressed us all by successfully roasting a 20 lb turkey, and Natalie introduced us to a favorite new dish: sweet potato casserole with toasty marshmallows on top. Us Jensen girls made the signature prosciutto and pine nut stuffing, and a delicious green apple and blue cheese salad. There was a ridiculous amount of food, including these highlights:

I also attempted two apple pies. Unfortunately, the crust fell off the first one, but since my oven is too small to fit two pies in at once, I was able to correct the second one before it was baked. Although it didn't look so pretty, the mangled one still tasted fantastic. Just ask MC and Hannah---the three of us ate the entire thing in less than 36 hours. Starting off the weekend binge with a bang. And a major sugar high.

We ate until we were stuffed, cuddled on the couch, watched some bad reality tv, ate some more, admired the view of Golden Gate Park from the roofdeck, played some cards, made fake mustaches, danced a little, and then headed out to the bars, ending the evening at a karoake bar in my neighborhood where I found myself performing "Family Tradition" with Emily and Natalie. I had never heard the song before, but these girls knew it very well. They are from Mississippi, after all.

And so, our family tradition of the Orphan Thanksgiving lives on with the next generation. We've decided that next year we'll head to the other coast for Thanksgiving in NYC. Maybe we'll even attempt our first Turkey. Better have the moms on speed dial for that one...

LAX

2007-11-21T08:31:00.000-08:00

I've been to LA's finest airport more times than I can count. But I have never had such an awesome time than I did yesterday during my layover before getting to San Francisco.

Why? Well, because while sitting at my gate munching on a huge bag of Chex Mix, I realized I was sitting next to AN AMERICAN IDOL!

I got nervous and couldn't stop smiling (this usually happens when I see celebrities and pug dogs). But then after a lot of serious thinking and overhearing conversations around me, I realized it wasn't Reuben. It wasn't Reuben at all.

Thank gawd I didn't tell him I was eagerly awaiting his comeback.

Brgrs

2007-11-15T06:48:00.000-08:00

Last night, Molly Moker and I met for our weekly date at Stand.

Keeping with the trend, I had spent my workday chowing down Mrs. Fields cookies and brownies until I couldn't move. This didn't stop me from enjoying the following:

- Classic Stand Burger with bleu cheese and a "special sauce" which was indeed, very special.

- Crispy Fries.

- Mashed sweet potatoes with Parmesan cheese.

- Toasted. Marshmallow. Shake.

This was hands down one of the best meals I have had since Thanksgiving 2006:

Speaking of Thanksgiving, this year the wonderful holiday will be spent in San Francisco with Lilly and Hannah. It's the beginning of our very own Orphan Thanksgiving. Photos and stories to come...

We Could Be Heroes

2007-11-13T18:50:00.000-08:00

Today, after eating three and half of the Mrs. Fields Search for the 30th Anniversary Cookie Contest's winning treat (I know you're dying to know which cookie won - but I'm sorry, I'm sworn to secrecy) and chugging 8 ounces of water, I left work. I walked to the N train on Broadway with my coworker Cheryl and complained to her about feeling like I was about to explode. Then I saw this dress in the window of Miu Miu and mysteriously felt better. That is, until I swiped my Metrocard and noticed a giant scab on the back of the old man's head in front of me. I gagged and jogged far, far, far down the platform. Away from the scab.

If you've talked to me lately you know my commutes have been horrid - I left my old school iPod in Minnesota and have been forced to listen to the awkward subway conversations, loud gum chewing and have become very aware of all the people with staring problems. Anyways, my train comes, I hop on, and I stand against the doors.

Then, amongst the noise, I hear a lot of heavy breathing and some phlegm snorting all coming from one source. I look down to my right and see the Scab Man. He's snorting and moving back and forth and I'm staring, wondering how he made it onto my train car. I'm perplexed. Suddenly, a tube the size of my Dad's funny looking thumb that's supposed to be taped and secured tightly into the man's throat pops out and falls lightly onto his beer belly. The snorting gets louder. I panic and gag and panic and reach my hand down because I'm not sure what's happening and nobody else sees what's happening and I'm freaking out.

Scab Man doesn't notice my helping hand and instead picks up his tube and starts jabbing it into his neck while moving back and forth and snorting louder. I literally hold back barf as I witness this scene, and even more so when I realize nobody else does. Can this man breath? Is he going to die on this train - right now? I reach down again and get in his face just as the tube successfully makes it back into its proper place and I catch a glimpse of pussy ooze and get a whiff of a sour smell. Scab Man doesn't acknowledge me - and I stand up fighting back tears and cookie barf.

I didn't save Scab Man's life. Clearly, he saved his own. But I was there, even if nobody noticed. And if he hadn't gotten lucky with that third jab, I might have been a NYC subway hero because I was the only friendless commuter with the pod-free ears. Nobody else would have heard those snorts for help.

Meeting in the Middle...

2007-11-06T20:42:00.000-08:00

I wish I had a cute picture of us from this past weekend in Minnesota, but I don't. This is highly uncharacteristic of the Jensen girls. We generally have at least one photo shoot every time we're together. Whether we're waiting for the train in Astoria eating ice cream cones or playing Jenga after Thanksgiving dinner, we like to take pictures of ourselves. Apparently this weekend was too much of a whirlwind for that though, because I don't have one picture of the three of us together.

The weekend went be quickly, but it was good to see everyone. Especially the sisters.

And I kind of missed these two.

Almost the entire Nagan clan was in town for Grandma's 90th birthday. Uncle Matt, who is now known as Guillermo, made an incredible meal for everyone on Saturday night. Madge put together a slideshow, and Emily whipped up some of her delicious desserts. There was even an appearance of the famous "cake on a stick," although without the stick. Overall, it was a lovely evening that went by too quickly, like the rest of the weekend. It's a good thing Fuzz is going to be out here in a few weeks for Thanksgiving, because three days just isn't enough time together.

We'll have to fit in a few extra photo shoots to make up for lost time.

I Once Was Lost, But Now Am Found

2007-10-30T18:34:00.000-07:00

I never lose important things. I break important things, but I never lose them – especially in a cab at 1:45AM in Alphabet City while wearing an oversized men’s button up shirt and no pants.

That is where my black clutch containing my camera, ID, credit cards, metro pass, keys and the last of my cash until next pay check ended up last Saturday night. Riding away from me, while I stood in the street with Jesus, Robin Hood, the Walk of Shame and a pirate who had just peed in her pants.

Losing your purse is like losing your arm. Or your foot. Before you get a fake plastic one. Yeah, life can go on. But doing everyday things is just a little bit more difficult because you're so FRUSTRATED. And all you want to do is scream and hate yourself for losing such an important thing!

After coming to drunk terms with my loss, I spent the rest of Saturday night sitting cross-legged in my bed, eating cold pepperoni pizza, dialing 1-800 credit card numbers, the city of New York and numerous precincts.

On Sunday I woke up thinking my purse would be sitting on the floor – everything there, magically. When I realized it wasn’t, I cried. I called people and told them the story and cried some more. Then I worked out and went to bed.

As we all know, I am a creature of habit. So, I woke up to Whoopi at 7AM on Monday and like every Monday morning, I showered, made coffee and sat on my bed to check email. My one and only email was from Facebook, alerting me to a Facebook message I had received at 2:06AM from Joe Kwan.

Joe found my purse in a cab on Saturday. Joe has the purse at his apartment. Joe lives in Midtown and wants me to call his cell phone.

Coincidentally, I was spending my entire day in Midtown for meetings. I called Joe around 4PM, met him on the corner of 58th and Madison and we exchanged. Or, he handed me my clutch and I exchanged my part, which was the news that I was taking him out for drinks next weekend. He’s normal and grew up in Chicago and he didn’t steal my $32 dollars. I love him.

I’m lucky – so lucky. So lucky that now I’m scared that writing this post bragging about my luck will make me unlucky. But that's okay - I needed this luck right now, if this is all I get. Because now I have proper identification, so I'll be able to get home to Minneapolis this weekend for a much needed break from NY to see all my favorite people.

Cheers, Joe.

Halloween

2007-10-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

I've had quite a few memorable Halloweens in my life. From the Blizzard of '91 when we had to wear snow pants under our costumes to go trick-or-treating, to the crazy three level party that we threw last year with my neighbors in Minneapolis. Four Halloweens in Madison have left these indelible marks on my memory: three dudes running down State Street wearing leopard print thongs and fur coats, my friend Kate and I riding in a shopping cart dressed as Barbie and Skipper, watching from our fire escape as a group of people demolished the store windows below us at 4am, almost getting tear gassed in a crowd, seeing a dude dressed as Goldmember (from Austin Powers, remember?) roller skate around State Street, and of course, every year there were the Oompa-Loompas doing flips and running around making people feel uncomfortable.

This year, I wasn't even planning on dressing up. There were so many ridiculous Halloween parties going on this weekend, that my friends and I decided to boycott a night of mayhem in favor of good, old-fashioned fun. A Haunted Corn Maze. Being from the Midwest, I felt like I should have been to one of these before, but I can honestly say that I haven't. Haunted hayrides, yes. Even Haunted caves, but never a corn maze. So we all piled in Emily's Pathfinder and tried to navigate our way through the awful traffic to Fremont for this alleged maze.

The line of cars had to be 50 deep when we arrived at 8pm. We saw a Ford truck jump the curb and try to sneak in, but a cop car rolled up looking like it was going to bust him. Only instead of busting the Ford, the cops started talking to the employees. The maze was shut down by the 5-0 for having too many people on the property! In the moments of confusion, I asked a young stoner guy working the line what was going on, and he said that if we parked across the street, we could still walk in. We were all bound and determined to see this thing, so we pulled in the parking lot and trekked across the field in the dark.

Once we got to the massive line of people, our hope was crushed yet again. They were out of tickets. Cursing the corn maze, Emily threatened to hop the wire fence and make a run for it. Carrie wanted to steal a pumpkin for our troubles. But in the end, we all settled on the fact that we needed dinner. Burritos and Margaritas was the group consensus.

On our way out, I asked the same stoner guy where we could find a good Mexican restaurant. He recommended La Cabana, and after about five minutes of stoner-speak and some long pauses, he ended up figuring out how we could get there. It was just down the road, behind a 7 Eleven. We were not exactly confident in these directions, especially after driving for what felt like way too long. But then we saw the 7 Eleven, and behind it was La Cabana, right next to the Adult Bookstore. Classy.

Stoner dude did not disappoint. The food was not only delicious, but also incredibly (almost alarmingly) cheap. $3.50 for a Chicken Quesadilla with guac. $5 for Super Nachos. And all the free chips and fresh salsa we could handle. We selected a few Selena numbers from the juke box and toasted to the corn maze that had let us down. The Good Son was playing on two TVs, dubbed in Spanish, with old men speaking instead of the prepubescent voices of young Elijah Wood and Macauley Culkin.

It was about 10pm, and we were not ready to call it a night. There was a costume party in Oakland that Carrie really wanted to go to, but June and Meagen wanted to hit up bars in The Mission. Emily just wanted to go to bed. Most of us rarely leave the city, so we decided that Oakland would be an adventure...

Three hours, four last minute costumes, and $8 in tolls later, we arrived at the secluded house party up in the hills of Oakland. The guy that Carrie knew was dressed as a skeleton in a skintight black bodysuit, and I don't think I understood a word he said all evening. He was practically speaking gibberish. Although, he was able to balance a beer bottle on his head for over 20 seconds, which I found quite impressive.

Overall, it was quite a night. We traveled all over the bay area, and probably spent more in gas money and tolls than we did on dinner. Definitely a Halloween to remember.

Luna Lake

2007-10-15T08:51:00.000-07:00

The new land now holds a new garage - a massive garage with a wicked paint job. The Cabin comes next.

These pictures make me want to cannonball into a cold lake, build a tree house and eat s'mores for dinner.

New Year's in the middle of nowhere? Anyone?

Where are all the sailors?

2007-10-07T23:21:00.000-07:00

This was my first fleet week, and I was pretty excited for the city to be filled with men in uniform. But where were they? We went out in North Beach on Friday night and found no sailors. Anywhere. We did, however, find a new favorite bar and a date for Leslie's roommate Natalie, so all was not lost.

On Saturday night we went back to our favorite neighborhood, the Marina. And I found these two.

Not exactly what we all had in mind. And this pose doesn't really help either...

He was on the phone trying to find somewhere to stay that night so he didn't have to go back to the ship.

Good luck, buddy. No seriously, I hope you found something better than the ship full of dudes. Although, with the way you're holding that phone it looks like you could be into that.

The Bus Is Leaving

2007-10-07T19:14:00.000-07:00

What a weekend. It started off with a show at Cafe du Nord. Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers.

Leslie had seen them a few years ago in Wisconsin, so when she heard they were swinging through town on their latest tour, she was very excited. After she played a few songs for me, I was in.

Once the show started, we made our way up to the front and I developed an instant crush on the drummer. Gorgeous. I was really into his fedora and white t-shirt combo. Afterward, I saw him talking to the Superfan that had stood next to me for most of the show. She had taken about 500 pictures throughout the evening, and when I mentioned to her that she should try it without the flash, she gave me a dirty look. I was trying to help her out, but I don't think she appreciated the tip. She just kept abusing that flash. And now she was taking yet another picture with the drummer...

So I walked over and told him I liked his hat. Superfan gave me another dirty look and walked away. We were joined by Leslie and some other band members, and then he invited us to hang out on the bus. The tour bus. So we followed him through the back entrance looking at each other like, is this really happening?

The bus was impressive. The three of us sat in the back and had a round of PBRs while the rest of the band packed up. I think they may have been a little mad at him for not helping out.

Suddenly, the bus was rumbling beneath us. It was leaving. They had to get on the road to Portland, where they were playing their next show on Friday night. We were invited along, but before I could imagine a weekend in an updated version of Almost Famous, I heard myself saying no. No, we had to get back. Back to our non-bunk beds and immobile homes. And then we were leaving and saying good bye and the bus was leaving. It all happened so quickly.

And that was the beginning of our weekend.

Bon Bon

2007-09-25T18:43:00.000-07:00

Last weekend, my best friend Claire came to visit. Claire is a nurse and she owns a house. This blows my mind every time I think about it.

Claire and I have wandered the streets of New York City before - way back during a long fall weekend our sophmore year of high school. So instead of doing the tourist thing, most of our weekend was spent picking up where we left off. We talked late into the night on park benches and ate an entire gallon of peppermint bon bon ice cream in 19 hours.

But one of the highlights of the weekend was overhearing the below conversation in Central Park between a semi-goodlooking man and his cell phone:

"So, we got home and she went into the bathroom to change her tampon and when she came back in I was passed out."

It's That Time of Year

2007-09-15T20:20:00.000-07:00

My Grandma Jensen and Weather & Climate professor (yes, I took Weather & Climate in college for a science credit) both told me I would make an amazing Weather Anchor. Actually, my Grandma still thinks she’ll see me on Kare 11 News one morning. I’m 99% sure this will never happen, but here Grandma, I’ll give you today’s weather forecast via Internet:

It’s officially fall.

I know this because the leaves are beginning to come down - they crumple under feet and clog the sewer grates. There are new smells – and to think my nose had just begun adjusting to the sour smells of garbage baking beneath the sun. These new smells of the first day of fall are fresh and clean. Today, people pulled out sweaters and drank hot coffee and stopped packing for weekends away at the Hamptons. More tour buses crowd the streets than they did in June, July and August. Flannel prints and tall leather boots fill store windows and I crave crisp apples and snuggling under covers.

Today I finally got my haircut and walked out into the Saturday morning daylight feeling like so much had been lifted off me. I don’t know what I would do without the change of season. As much as I love routine and using the phrase, “Who moved my cheese?”, I also love this day of change. The day when I realize we’ve moved into a different phase. And even though I’m terrible at science and I don’t even pay attention to weather reports, I do know it’s fall. I know it’s here when I breathe in and out harder and slower - and realize everyone else has shelved their flip-flops but me.

9 to 5

2007-09-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

The new job is basically the opposite of the old one. My new company is under a year old, employs less than 50 people, and has very little structure. It's basically a room full of computer nerds and fashionistas(os?) and a warehouse of ridiculously cool clothing. The old one is a $50 billion company with hundreds of thousands of employees, with very structured processes and clear expectations laid out. In the new job, I kind of feel like we're all making it up as we go along. Which is exciting, but can also be frustrating. And although I love the freedom involved with this new venture, part of me misses the security and familiarity of Target.

What the hell am I doing? It's finally hit me. I just jumped off a cliff, and I better learn to fly pretty quick here. Leaving my job at Target was absolutely the most impractical thing I have ever done. But I was following my instincts, and hopefully it will all pay off.

If you ask me, times like these call for a little Cinematherapy. For those of you not familiar with this term, it was made popular by women who read chick lit and watch the WE channel. However, I do think they were on to something. There are certain movies that offer you comfort and validation in some of life's most trying situations.

My prescription for a new career move is either Devil Wears Prada, Working Girl, or Legally Blonde. They give you a nice confidence boost and make you feel like you could cure cancer, AIDS, and world hunger, all within a week, if you put your mind to it. And wear the right outfit.

After a breakup, watch Love Actually. You'll laugh, you'll cry, but in the end you'll ultimately feel happy, and hopeful. Which is exactly what you need.

No matter what kind of dating dilemmas you're experiencing, there are at least two episodes of Sex and the City that you could relate to. Possibly even five or six, depending on the issue at hand. And when you're having an existential crisis, or you just feel like having a lucid dream in which you are a flying cartoon character, watch Waking Life.

There is one movie guaranteed to make you cry. If you're a female, or a male who happens to be extremely in touch with his feelings, it's Steel Magnolia's. If you're a football player, it's Brian's Song.

In the past month, I have watched Devil Wears Prada three times, and Legally Blonde twice. If I owned Working Girl, I probably would have watched that as well. It's been a tough month, with lots to get used to and so many unknown factors in front of me. I'm trying to just go with it, and have faith in myself to come out on top.

The Burn.

2007-09-05T20:32:00.000-07:00

On a recent Saturday night, there was an unfortunate incident in my kitchen involving overcooked Stouffer’s stuffed peppers and poor hand-eye coordination. Long story. The result was a pretty nasty burn on my left foot that has rendered me slightly handicapped for over a week now. At the direction of my friend Kelsey, a 3rd grade teacher and therefore an expert in First Aid, I’ve been covering it in Neosporin and gauze. The only footwear option has been flip-flops which openly display the huge bandage, causing questions from friends, coworkers, and occasionally even random strangers. One guy asked me if it was a recent tattoo. That would have been so much cooler, and much nicer to look at than the nasty scar that this could leave.

With unusual injuries like this, I find that people always want to tell you how to take care of it. One woman told me to put slices of raw potato on it. She apparently learned this trick growing up in Russia, where they had an abundance of potatoes but no Neosporin. Another woman told me not to use Neosporin because it makes you resistant to other antibiotics. Preferring to be antibiotic resistant than to have an infected foot, I ignored that advice.

The whole experience has also made me really nervous around hot surfaces, liquids, solids-anything that could potentially produce another 2nd degree burn. My daily coffee has been replaced by iced coffee or sugar free Red Bull, and I haven't cooked anything all week.

It's looking a lot better now. I have switched from gauze to band-aid patches, ditched the Neosporin for aloe, and I've even been able to attempt closed-toe shoes. The real test will be tomorrow's morning trek to work, my first day of the new job. If I'm feeling brave, maybe I'll pick up a latte on the way. Or not.

La Cucaracha

2007-09-02T17:56:00.000-07:00

FACT: Cockroaches reproduce quickly. For every one you see there can be 200 more hiding and multiplying behind your walls. Because cockroaches are nocturnal, if you’ve seen one, you haven’t seen them all. The few cockroaches you see by day were likely forced out by overcrowding; a possible sign of severe infestation.
[Source: Orkin.com]

September 1, 2006: It's my first night sleeping in my new apartment. I had originally envisioned myself moving into a permanently dirty basement apartment and am content with my new adorable and clean but living room-less Astoria pad. I don't have my bed frame yet, so my mattress is leaning against the wall. I am sleeping on a futon and my roommate Kayla, is using lawn chairs as bedroom furniture that she found in her Grandma's basement that haven't been unfolded since 1972. Tomorrow is my first day of work. I'm unpacking my suitcase and trying to flatten my wrinkly shirts with my hands because (obviously) we don't have an iron. Then I see it. Tentacles darting back and forth. It is huge - the size of my dad's funny looking thumb. It's perched up on top of my NEW mattress and it's looking out MY bedroom window. I have never screamed so loud. I tell Kayla she has to kill it. She says no, so I do it.

September 2, 2006 - August 2, 2007: I'm not even thinking about cockroaches - totally off my radar. That one we had came in from the Man with a Van who helped me shuttle my belongings back and forth from Nora's apartment. There's no way this clean, empty apartment could have produced such an obese monster like that. No way.

August 2, 2007: Kayla and I get home from the gym. My feet are sweating so I take off my shoes and go into the bathroom. I shut the door and THERE IT IS. Right in the corner! A fat cockroach! I start praying the thing will just explode or disappear or turn into something else, like an arrowhead, a mini Snickers, even a turd. Then I scream and run into my room for my shoes. Kayla comes flying out of her room wearing rain boots because she knows what's happening. And then, when we're both ready to face it with our heavy feet it scurries out of the bathroom and into the hallway closet. We stuff a dirty towel under the closet door knowing this won't keep the cockroach in, but also knowing it's the only thing that will make us feel safe. The next day we buy RAID: Giant Cockroach and spray away until we literally can't breath.

August 4-11, 2007: Kayla and I are leaving the apartment and heading to Key Foods. As she hops down the last step and out the door, I see it. A dead cockroach - right on our pineapple welcome mat. We both agree THAT'S the one! That's the one that got away from us and we trapped in the closet with the towel! Now it's dead. Now we can sleep...

...until we find 4 more dead. Kayla finds most of them when I'm not home - I get text messages that say things like, "ANOTHER ONE DOWN - LEGS STILL TWITCHING" and "I think we should start naming them".

August 12, 2007: We decide to tell the landlords about our problem. They tell us:

A) Bring out your garbage every night and stay clean.
B) We haven't seen any in OUR apartment...
C) Everyone in NYC has cockroaches and if they say they don't, they're lying.
D) We'll sprinkle some boric acid in that crack at the bottom of the stairs and stuff steel wool in there, too.

September 2, 2007: I'm home alone and it's nighttime and I'm about to go to bed. But first I need some water. I flip on the kitchen light and there, in the middle of the floor is a BIG momma cockroach. She's large and in charge and not scared of the light. So, I breath slowly and head back into my room for shoes trying to build my confidence up every step of the way only to find that when I return to the scene, she's gone. I'm crushed. I fall asleep that night in a ball underneath my covers.

-----

Since Sunday, we've had a total of six dead cockroaches and two get-aways. I can't handle putting another tally on our refrigerator post-it note that's keeping our cockroach count.

All of the confidence I possess is yanked from me when I see a cockroach. Cockroaches make me feel inadequate and self-conscious. They make me feel bad about myself. "I mean, I'm not a dirty person," I want to tell them. All of them. Because clearly, according to the Orkin Man, this is a problem. I have more than one roommate. I have like, 200.

I Heart the Marina

2007-09-02T12:55:00.000-07:00

Leslie just moved to her new apartment in the Haight, which means an end to our days (and nights) spent in the Marina neighborhood. Over the past two months, this has been our favorite area to roam. Iced coffees, mani/pedis, and browsing the cute boutiques by day. $3 cosmos, overgrown frat boys with popped collars, and Pizza Orgasmica by night.

Another favorite haunt has been the Marina Lounge. Matt introduced us to this place back when we visited in April. A dive bar with an old pool table and a killer music selection, Marina Lounge never disappoints us. Especially on nights when we get the only table in the place, right in the front window, which stays open to allow easy interaction with passersby.

Now that she's in the land of hippies and I'm among the indie-hipsters, we may have a tough time making friends. Both groups seem to dislike girls like us. However, I have a secret love of indie-hipster boys, so hopefully we can win them over.

The Girls Next Door

2007-08-21T23:44:00.000-07:00

My new apartment has a lovely little balcony overlooking...the O'Farrell Theatre. Kind of a landmark in this city, with lots of history. Wikipedia it.

Welcome to my new neighborhood. Locally referred to, tenderly, as the Tenderloin. Apparently, living here is somewhat of a right of passage for transplants to the city. It builds character. At least that's what I tell myself as I walk past the dirty old men standing outside the nudie bars around the corner.

My apartment building is a 12 story fortress of concrete, with a 24 hour doorman, laundry and workout facilities, and a sweet roofdeck pool. And my street actually isn't so bad. I feel safe walking around, even late at night. I'm just happy to be settled after the long ordeal of looking for an apartment.

Now I can focus my energy on something new, like getting Fuzz to move out here.

Since I've Been Gone,

2007-08-13T18:58:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a lot of wandering.

I finally made it to Coney Island and decided that one day, I will live there. I will eat hot dogs, relax on the beach, and dance on the boardwalk all night long.

I've been people watching.

And after returning from Salt Lake City, added a new subject to my list of top things that fascinate me.

1) Sharks
2) Prisons
3) Eating Disorders
3) Mormons

---

The past few weeks have been a busy mixture of emotion and experience. And I can't ever stop smiling.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful.

2007-07-27T19:08:00.000-07:00

I miss you and all those goofy faces you make. Happy 23rd, Fuzzy! Wish I could be with you to celebrate our 23 years together...I've loved every minute of it. Don't know what I'd do without you.

Think you could set up a slip n' slide in Astoria Park for old times' sake?

The Hunchback of Nob Hill

2007-07-23T19:51:00.000-07:00

And other tales of apartment hunting in San Francisco...

I've been seriously looking for an apartment for about three weeks now. My free hours are spent checking craigslist, emailing, calling, setting up showings, going to open houses, and generally stressing out over whether I'll ever find the perfect place or if I should just settle on something mediocre. And if I have to settle, what's more important to me? Newness? Neighborhood? After liking and losing three places already to fierce competition, I'm starting to worry.

The height of my housing frustrations was last Friday, when I was brought to tears in a leasing office. Really. I had the day off work, four showings lined up that morning, and I was DETERMINED to find a place that day. The first appointment called me an hour before to let me know he had already rented the place. When I made it to the second showing, the guy told me he had just rented that one too. The third appointment didn't even show up. I arrived at the fourth one looking and feeling desperate, and I was informed that it had just been rented that morning. Of course it had. My eyes started tearing up, and I managed to squeak out, "Ok, well, will you have anything else opening up before the end of August?" One was opening up August 6th and hadn't been listed yet, and I got a showing for the next morning at 9am.

As I was leaving that place, I got a call back from a building manager (Dennis) in Nob Hill, and we set up a showing for 5pm. I was hopeful. It sounded like a nice place, but I was a little worried about the neighborhood. Lower Nob Hill gets kind of sketchy.

The outside of the building was pretty gross, and I held the phone receiver a few inches away from my ear as I called him to buzz me in. The buzzer didn't work, so he came down to open the door. Dennis was in his mid-forties, wiry, leathery, tattoed, slightly musty smelling, and a hunchback. He took me up to the fourth floor in an elevator that was older than I am, with the doors you close manually. All I could think of was being caught in that elevator during an earthquake like the one we had the night before, and falling to my death.

When he opened the doors, we were about three feet below the floor, and for a moment I thought he was going to make me climb out of the elevator. But he closed the doors, pushed the button again, and brought us up to about five inches below the floor. "Watch your step," he said as he led me out to the dim hallway.

The actual apartment unit wasn't bad, but the entire package, for the rent he was asking, was definitely a no.

On Saturday, I went back for my 9am showing and loved the place. Big building with laundry, a 4th floor outdoor pool and BBQ area, workout facility, new kitchen and bathroom, great closet space...I was in. I filled out an application and got the ball rolling. The neighborhood wasn't great, but it was close to a lot of my favorite spots in the city, and it had a 24 hour doorman and underground parking. Today at work, I told everyone about my new place, and they freaked out. Yes, it's a slightly sketchy neighborhood during the day, but apparently it's REALLY bad at night. No wonder the rent was so low.

I haven't signed a lease on it yet, so it looks like I'm back on craigslist again for awhile. Spreading the word with anyone and everyone I know in the city, so hopefully I'll get something by word of mouth.

I'm not sure how much more of this I can take.

My new favorite place.

2007-07-22T22:00:00.000-07:00

After a stressful week of apartment hunting in a city where landlords ask for all but your firstborn child before they'll rent you an apartment, Leslie and I felt that a beach trip was in order. We grabbed our sunscreen and a stack of magazines, and headed up north to Stinson Beach.

The last time I was here, I watched my sister Evelyn run to the water, whipping her clothes off in excitement. She was three years old, and it was the first time she'd seen the ocean.

What a perfect day. The drive was beautiful, and lounging in the sun all afternoon was exactly what we both needed. So relaxing. This could definitely become a Sunday routine.

New friends...

2007-07-11T22:53:00.000-07:00

My friend Leslie is also new to the city. She and I have been out exploring together, making new friends, finding funky dive bars, and trying not to pull our leg muscles on the killer hills.

We went to a 4th of July BBQ hosted by our new friend Matt, otherwise known as "that guy who got the party bus to Stillwater" and his roommate Travis.

Later, we made our way down to the Embarcadero for fireworks over the bay and an AMF at Sinbad's. Had a moment. Then our new friends took us to their favorite dive bar, Dave's, where they sang along to the seemingly endless stream of Tom Jones songs. Oh, and when we couldn't get a cab after the fireworks, Matt made a deal with the driver of this PT Cruiser to give us a lift. Sketchy? Maybe.

Went out last night in honor of the All Star game. Tried to rub elbows with the players at the Ritz-Carleton hotel bar, but no luck there. Lots of fans. No players.

Ended up at the International House of Cocktails. With these two.

And this guy, who had just biked up from San Diego and is running for Mayor of San Francisco. See the stars and stripes there on the back of his bike? Now that's a true American. He also told me I looked like Marilyn Monroe and he would give me a job when he took office.

I think we're off to a good start here.

GV was calling me.

2007-07-09T18:25:00.000-07:00

Being home is sitting on an ice cold toilet seat. Stepping on pine needles and staring at stars. Watching television in the basement with Dad - wrapped in blankets. Arugula salads, cottage cheese and sesame seed crackers with goat cheese. Falling asleep anywhere because you're so relaxed and the furniture is so comfortable. Watching Evelyn eat fruit, drink Dr. Pepper and recite movie lines. Crossword puzzles, pencils and full cartons of milk on the kitchen table. Wine whenever, delicious food always and love everywhere. Sleeping in my old twin bed with my old comforter and one flat pillow. Early wake up calls. No eye makeup remover or toilet paper but tons of cereal and a nice shampoo selection. Sprinklers on, flowers blooming and trees, trees, trees. Good music playing and fingers typing. Hugs from Mom. The sound of Oscar when he's hungry, Dad snoring and Evelyn's guitar at midnight. Hot baths and fuzzy towels. Coffee with organic 2%. No cell phone reception. Infinite TV channel options. Finding old stuff that could never be thrown away - notes, diaries, pictures. Being home is pacing through halls, in and out of rooms - not being able to sit still out of excitement of being there.

My time in MPLS was relaxing. I connected with people I hadn't connected with in awhile.

I spent time in Cannon Falls with Momma, Wendy, Brent, Hannah and Kitty. Chatted on the porch and ate yummy fish tacos - my new favorite.

Had $1.50 beers at Brewsters and Chuggers.

Saw locals which made Kitty feel awkward.

Had a great 4th of July with weiners, pims, family, friends, dogs and charades.

Went out with the girls. Stopped in to see old coworkers. Hung out with Evelyn. Got 9 books for $7 at the Goodwill. Spent an entire fun-filled day with my beautiful Grandma Nagan. Ate a lot - and even worked out once. Drove around the lakes and did a run through the MOA. Ice skated with the infamous long bladers. Got a pedicure with Mom. The color? Ruby Red.

I'm back in the hottness that is Astoria. Here I've got a tiny fan, a crowded community pool and a small patch of grass with four flowers - nothing like Minneapolis in the summer. But it was a wonderful week and now I've come back fully recharged.

Hello, Berkeley!

2007-07-01T19:22:00.000-07:00

There are many things I love about my new neighborhood...

New vegetation

Palm trees

Street art

I have a crush on whoever did this one

Hazy Sunsets

The thing I love most so far? The Berkeley Bowl. It's a grocery store two blocks from my apartment that has a ridiculous produce section. It can be overwhelming, actually, with six different types of any given fruit or veggie to choose from. Everything is incredibly cheap too. Last week I got 3 apples, 1 avocado, blueberries, strawberries, mixed greens, and 2 tomatoes for under $6. They also have the biggest olive bar I've ever seen. Shopping there is kind of an ordeal though, because no matter when you go, morning/afternoon/evening/weekeday/weekend, it's ALWAYS a zoo. Screaming children, carts everywhere, and long checkout lines. But it's totally worth it. And, if you stay calm and don't let people get to you, there's some great people watching.

The Devil Wears Prada. And Balenciaga, and Lanvin, and Marni...

2007-06-28T19:28:00.000-07:00

I love my new job, but I had to remove this post...discretion.

"You need a swimsuit? How about two for $25?"

2007-06-24T20:10:00.000-07:00

I arrived on Friday night to see Johannah crouched on the living room floor sorting swimsuits, matching tops to bottoms, and ripping off the $1.99 price tags. She had picked up about 70 suits in Panama at ridiculous prices, thinking she could easily sell them back in the states for $15 or more and make a pretty penny. She was right.

She strung them up for the garage sale, and sold 13 suits on the first day. $195, out the door! The second day brought similar business, and she's planning on bringing the rest to Florida to sell on the beach. The girl just may have found her calling...

Overall, the garage sale was a success. Johannah was definitely running the show, trying to keep her father from dropping unnecessary background information ("that cigarette burn was always there...") and her mother from giving things away ("oh, just take it, you're such a nice girl...") She is truly her father's daughter, and she drives a hard bargain.

One thing I learned this weekend? People will buy ANYTHING. Slap a 25 cent sticker on it, and they'll scoop it up by the bagful. VHS tapes? $1, out the door! Half-burned votives? 25 cents, out the door! Get In Shape, Girl cassette tape? Well, that actually didn't sell...

Aside from watching Johannah haggle with old ladies, the rest of the weekend was lovely. Joe and Jen were fantastic hosts, and I can't wait for my next visit. It's the perfect weekend getaway from the city. I'm glad you had a nice relaxing weekend too, MC, it sounds like you needed it...

Oh yeah, we also watched a few home movies from the cabin, and we were laughing so hard we could barely BREATHE. Meghan and Molly were lipsyncing and dancing to "The Greatest Love of All" by Whitney Houston. We need to get that on YouTube ASAP. It's priceless.

Sunny Weekend

2007-06-24T08:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Kayla and I decided we needed to get the hell out of the city.

We woke up at 9am, grabbed some Dunkin', and one transfer and a 45 minute ride on the Long Island Railroad later, we were here:

Long Beach. It was nice to get away for the day. Lately, someone has been dropping 30 pounds of leftovers from Telly's Tavern on 27th street in the middle of the night. Fish. Chicken. Greek salad. I've been disgusted and exhausted and broke and losing my patience with everyone and everything - so wandering around the beach, reading, napping under the sun and watching Kayla eat a fried chicken dinner at the cheap Long Beach Diner was absolutely wonderful and refreshing.

Nine hours later, we were back in Astoria - back to our to our stuffy little apartment, for a large cup of Tasti D-Lite and a marathon of Bad Girls Club (have you seen this? It's unreal.)

Today was spent in Astoria Park. Since the pool doesn't open until Friday, I've spent the last few weekends laying in the sun at the park until I'm sweating through my blanket, which is usually about an hour. Today was unusual, yet delightful because there was a breeze. And because Kayla and I were laying next to a pug party (15 pugs) and a fat man tanning in tighty whities.

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Lil - tell me about this garage sale. And the fam.

xo Fuzzy

7 Days Later...

2007-06-21T22:03:00.000-07:00

A lot can happen in a week. My bed was delivered on Monday morning, so I'm no longer sleeping on a crappy air mattress, which is nice. I'm still living out of boxes, but I may aqcuire more furniture this weekend when I visit the Healdsburg chapter of the Nagan clan. (Word is, they're prepping for a garage sale, and I get first dibs!) We'll see what actually fits in my tiny car. The rest of my earthly belongings will hopefully arrive tomorrow, via UPS, including my camera cable so I can finally upload some recent pictures.

I have a few more leads on jobs, but I don't want to jinx anything, so I'll stay mum about that for now. Trying to enjoy the time off, but it's hard to get used to, especially since I'm not sure how long it will last. So for now, I'm focusing on exploring the area...

Last night, I stuck around Berkeley and met up with new friends at Triple Rock Brewery where we enjoyed a nice rooftop happy hour (I highly recommend the Titanium brew, tasty!) Afterward, we headed down to the Gourmet Ghetto for a Thai dinner, and I quickly learned the layering lesson. From 6pm to 8pm it had dropped about 20 degrees, and I was without a sweater! Chilly! From now on, I'll be prepared.

Tonight I took my first BART ride in to the city and met up with a Target friend for dinner in the Marina neighborhood. She just started at Williams-Sonoma, and we walked past their offices near Fisherman's Wharf, right on the water. Nice.

Last weekend I went south to San Jose, and this weekend I'll be heading up north to Healdsburg, with a stop at the Schellville Grill to see Uncle Buck on the way. Apparently Nascar is in town, as is my cousin Johannah, and both are sure to leave the area wondering what hit it. In every picture I have of this girl, she looks drunk. Case in point:

Well Fuzz, Johannah and I will miss you this weekend, but it sounds like you're living it up in NYC, what's this I hear about an Entertainment Weekly Party tonight? Any celebrity sightings to report?

We Love Twist Cones

2007-06-15T00:00:00.000-07:00

Look! I figured out how to post pictures, oh boy!

This is the last time we were together, on our way to a hot club in NYC. Did I mention that I miss you, Fuzz?

I Have Arrived.

2007-06-14T21:44:00.000-07:00

Well, it was a long drive, but I'm finally here.

2,038 miles, 12 diet cokes, 2 packs of gum, and six full rotations of my California Mix CD, and I have arrived. My sublet in Berkeley is adorable. Older building, hardwood floors, huge rooms, and a great neighborhood full of little bungalow houses and jungles of unfamiliar vegetation.

Tonight I attempted a Target run (my room has no overhead light, so I need to buy a lamp) but somehow I got turned around and ended up high in the hills with the most spectacular view of the bay at sunset. Talk about a happy accident. I had been feeling a little overwhelmed and homesick (three days on the road by yourself is a bit lonely, even with the cell phone) but standing up there and looking out at the hazy sunset over the bay calmed my nerves. I remembered why I came out here, and I realized what a blank slate I have in front of me. I have no idea where I'll be living in two months, who I'll be hanging out with, or where I'll be working. And that is so exciting.

Tomorrow I'll be out exploring the new neighborhood, and then off to San Jose for the weekend to see a familiar face. Tuesday is the interview at Restoration Hardware, and then...who knows? Leslie arrives in 12 days, and Fuzz may visit in August. I hope so, because I miss her too too much.

Here we go Fuzzy, let the parallel adventures begin.

Challenge: tell me about your favorite spots in your neighborhood. Go.

She Made It.

2007-06-14T19:07:00.000-07:00

Lil called me tonight from her new stoop. I was sitting at Igloo Cafe waiting on my Greek salad - she was sitting outside her new Berkeley apartment waiting on her roommate to bring keys.

Whew, now I can stop worrying. I was convinced someone was going to break into her car while she was sleeping in a sketchy motel.

Everything is new and fresh - I can see her smiling and flailing her arms around when she talks. She's so excited and it makes me happy.

Lil, there's three hours between us - let's make this work.

xo Fuzzy

Astoria, Queens meets San Francisco, California

2007-05-28T18:28:00.000-07:00

You take the East coast and I'll take the West coast –– we'll leave the others in the middle.