we interuppt this vacation to bring you this important message.

July 31, 2008

I burst into tears tonight. TEARS. LOTS OF THEM.

Here I am enjoying time off and I check my dear friend of many years blog and became devistated.

Cancer is scary shit. I should know. I have seen enough of it in my life and profession to be able to make that diagnosis. And I love Lisa. She is one of the people who reminded me in a time when I needed to be reminded that I am an incredibly strong person. that I can get through the worst of things.

and I’ll be damned, looking at it years later, she was effing right!

But that doesn’t stop me from crying in the darkness in SF. It doesn’t stop me from praying. and it sure as hell doesn’t stop me from reminding her that I am always available for support. I can fly out. I can talk on the phone. I can do whatever is needed.

And I can remind her what she told me, “you can do this.”

Because you can.

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Going on vacation.

July 26, 2008

be back soon!

It’s that time of the year again…

July 23, 2008

Being t-minus one month (or so) until my birthday, I figured I would let you be privy to a conversation held the other day while driving in the mystery mobile:

Me: (as I am driving) “AAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!!!????

Josh: What is what?

Me: “that! THAT THING! THAT THING ON MY HEAD!” I scream pointing to my hair

Josh: (staring at me like I am suddenly possessed. Or on crack. Or both.) “I see nothing”

I quickly pointed to my bangs. There it was, like the devil’s spawn glinting and nestled in my hair, a single strand of grey hair.

GREY HAIR PEOPLE!!!! I HAVE FUCKING GRAY HAIR!!!!

Josh: “That’s not gray.”

Me: “yes it is!”

Josh: “it’s glistening in the light”

Me: “no, it’s gray and I will prove it.”

With a mighty pluck I pull the hair out of my head and lay it on my black pants. It shines. It glistens. It’s freakin’ gray hair.

Josh: “It’s not gray”

This is going nowhere so I decide to take the hair and save it in the change drawer of the car. Josh stares at me and then rolls his eyes.

Me: “what?”

Josh: “Are you going to save all your gray hairs now?”

Me: “HA! SEE I TOLD YOU IT WAS GRAY!”

Josh: “you are so strange and quirky sometimes.”

And so we head into the countdown to number 36.

Fin.

Arguing about culture, people and SF.

July 22, 2008

My car broke down. Saying that is an understatement. Came to a grinding halt in the middle of a crappy part of SF in the noon hour is more like it. Had it towed over to ye old repair shop and started to walk to the bus stop with Rick and Stan a few blocks away.

Stan and I got into a disagreement. A BIG ONE. Stan is a guy. He is strong. He is smart. He can handle himself. I am a girl. I am strong, though not as strong, but small. I can handle myself most of the time. Rick was with us. He’s three for Christ’s sake. He can handle his stuffed rabbit.

We are walking through not such a great neighborhood and I am a little antsy. Stan says, and I quote, “there is nothing to worry about. There are three of us.”

Hm. Interesting. The way I look at it is there are 2.5 of us and it doesn’t really matter if you are a guy, I am a girl walking with her child.

In other words, I am an easy target. Doesn’t help that I am carrying my dell in my diaper bag. It doesn’t matter if there are three of us. There is my child and myself. Easy targets. I have been in this city all my life. I know when it’s not a great time to be in certain areas. And sometimes, it doesn’t matter if it’s noon on a Tuesday, there are just some areas that you don’t want to be.

Now, here is the kicker: I tried to explain to him that it doesn’t matter that it’s noon on Tuesday. I am a girl. I have a kid with me. There is an imminent amount of danger that he can’t even to begin to rationalize because of one simple fact: HE IS MALE.

Recently, there was a disagreement in the media about the N word. I hate this word. I have never used this word and never will. Even when reading Tom Sawyer in high school I would skip it. I just refuse. Anyway, the argument is that white people should never use that word while Africa Americans can use it. Hey, that’s fine and I can understand why this is. It makes sense in reclaiming the word and history. However, I can’t say that I will ever come close to understanding the hatred because there is nothing compairable for me to be called.

But Stan decided to argue the point with me that I shouldn’t feel afraid because I am in a bad area of town, I am a girl and I am walking with a baby. I used the N-word controversy as an example. And he didn’t get it. But then again, I don’t expect him to. Because he’s male. He will never have to worry about the things that, as a woman, come into my life everyday. I have experienced and seen some really fucked up shit in my life as a woman. Things that wouldn’t even begin to cross a man’s mind in the middle of the day will enter mine because, unfortunetly in this society, they have to. So no, I don’t expect him to GET IT but I expect him to respect that he won’t get it because of these reasons.

I mean, ladies, am I wrong to worry about my child and myself?

And since he’s reading this because, let’s face it, you met some really rad people this week, I would hop that maybe seeing it in writing may affect your judgement and open your eyes a bit. 🙂

Sipping on gin and juice.

July 20, 2008

Oh yes, Blogher weekend has come to an end. The women are leaving the city. Estrogen is returning to normal levels in SF.

And boy was it fun. Party crashing. Booze. Fun.

Oh yes, and Booze. Lots of Booze. And the crazy times began with the drop of a bottle of vodka.

I finally met the other Rachel. While we don’t live near each other anymore, per say, we did decide that we needed to represent our town. We needed to set people straight about a few things of being here (“yes, it’s really July.” “Yes this is what the weather is like.” “No we are not lesbians” “yes the Giants do suck” “No the golden gate bridge is not made of gold” etc) Other Rachel and I actually look alike as well. Dark curly hair. ☺

Anyway, we decided that since we are going “gangsta” living here in the city we created a gang sign. There are two of us. That would be Rachel squared baby. So we came up with our sign…

So you watch on the Muni buses for our sign.

Oh yeah, because that’s how we roll here biotches.

INVASION!!!!

July 15, 2008

Uh-oh.  Here they come.  The women bloggers have invaded the city.

🙂

and I have to work!!!!

‘Til kingdom Come

July 13, 2008

Hold my head inside your hands
I need someone who understands
I need someone, someone who hears
For you I’ve waited all these years

Waking up is no fun.  Early in the morning, it’s just not thing that I like to do.  Actually, I don’t think anyone likes getting up in the morning.  However, about two years ago, I bought an alarm clock that would play a CD when I woke up.  I never used the CD player until recently (as in the last 6 months)

I created a CD that would help me get up.  It starts really slow and quiwt and works its way to loud ska music.  In fact, I know that if I hear any dropkick Murphy starting I have been in bed half an hour out of the CD and really, it’s time to get up.

Rick wakes up after me.  I am sure he takes longer because he’s only three, but I never t hought anything og the CD I played.  Until this afternoon that is.  This afternoon Rick was cranky.  Very cranky.  He kept pointing at my dresser and crying.  I grabbed his book off of it.  No, he didn’t want it.  I grabbed his juice box.  Nope, not interested.

Finally I grabbed the CD off the dresser.  Rick started clapping and pointed to the clock.  I put the CD in and Coldplay’s Kingdom Come started to play.  Rick cackled and reched for me.  When we settled on the bed, Rick started rocking in my lap to the music.  He was humming.  When the song ended he looked up and simply said, “mommy.”

For you I’d wait ’til kingdom come
Until my day, my day is done
And say you’ll come and set me free
Just say you’ll wait, you’ll wait for me

So true…

July 5, 2008

Dear Mr. Bush…

July 2, 2008

Hello Mr. Bush.   I just wanted to say thank you for my economic stimulous check.  the 900 bucks really came in handy.

however….

We are a nation falling grossly in debt and making promises that we can’t keep.  gas prices have sky rocketed (I really hate filling my tank for 4.95 a gallon), we are in an endless war, and even freaking starbucks is closing stores because they can’t afford to keep them up.  STARBUCKS FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!!

So, sir, with all do respect (and trust me, I am mustering what I can for you), why give everyone money?  It’s like giving us an allowance to go shopping to “stimulate” the economy?

Sir, I knew you were an idiot, but it’s amazing how dumb you really are.  my check?  it went to my rent.  As did everyone else’s I know.  We paid bills to try to cut back our debts that your “legacy” is leaving us.

So thanks for the rent money pops.

~FCM

out of the mouth of an angel

June 22, 2008

“mommy!!”

“yes?”

Rick looks left, then right, then farts.  his hands fly to his mouth and he giggles.

“faaaaaaaaarrrrt”

and he runs away laughing.