1 funding source secured but I can't get away until the deal is closed and we start construction.
i've got some real motivation now to get this shit down and get the fuck outta here. even if just for a little bit.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
year end
thailand.
it was never on the list.
then again, is it really a "list" when only one destination remains?
paris can wait.
phuket awaits.
i likely will not sail the bahamas in november.
there are building to renovate and people to house.
but december i can retreat to solitude half way around the globe. there a ship awaits for me to board and test my fortitude, my will to continue on the open water. i will sail away from this year of loss and into the new year of...
plans in the making, inspired by a dream that was only partially mine.
it was never on the list.
then again, is it really a "list" when only one destination remains?
paris can wait.
phuket awaits.
i likely will not sail the bahamas in november.
there are building to renovate and people to house.
but december i can retreat to solitude half way around the globe. there a ship awaits for me to board and test my fortitude, my will to continue on the open water. i will sail away from this year of loss and into the new year of...
plans in the making, inspired by a dream that was only partially mine.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
where the pavement ends
the confusion, the fear, the despair,
the excitement, the thought of joy, the future
so elusive
so crushing
i looked east
west would have landed me in the water
the road dipped and rose, then dipped and rose some more
then dipped beyond site
the road, if i ran
and kept running, running
where would the pavement end
when it ended, it would turn to dirt
and i would keep running
until the dirt would turn to grass
there in the grass
miles from where i started
i would be home
with you
for a moment
i believed
i knew the way home
the excitement, the thought of joy, the future
so elusive
so crushing
i looked east
west would have landed me in the water
the road dipped and rose, then dipped and rose some more
then dipped beyond site
the road, if i ran
and kept running, running
where would the pavement end
when it ended, it would turn to dirt
and i would keep running
until the dirt would turn to grass
there in the grass
miles from where i started
i would be home
with you
for a moment
i believed
i knew the way home
Sunday, August 9, 2009
My Battle with Food
As dawn broke and I cracked open my eyes, I mentally smiled seeing the fog enshrouding the city. Perhaps it would be a crappy day out, perfect for staying in under the covers and tending to things like my upset stomach, magazine and book reading, online shopping and blogging. But alas, the marine layer is burning off quickly and guilt is quickly setting in for still being in bed.
My tummy still hates me this morning. I only had a one day pass to SF Chefs Food Wine, I can't imagine how people with multi-day passes must be feeling. But I think it started the evening before with the Heirloom Tomato Dinner at Coffee Bar where every course featured tomato. Its tomato season and everywhere you look, tomatoes. Every menu or magazine you pick up tomatoes.
Under the big tent at Union Square the tasting bites, wine and cocktails were plenty. Every other vendor seemed to be serving some rendition of gazpacho. More tomato down the hatch, followed by wine and ginger liquer cocktails and backhanded comments (i.e., "If you want to go to Hollywood you have to watch what you eat" or "She's craking up, don't give her too much [booze]".) I guess thats what happens when I don't have the defense of companions. Nonetheless, Pizza Antica's Tuscan Kale bruschetta was my favorite. The brewers session was a lighthearted yet compassionate discussion about hops, malts, and local craft. All the beers were wonderful but the Smokey the Beer which tasted like bacon and a campfire was the most memorable. I heart our local brewmasters, they are truely chefs and artisans. I walked away inspired, and happily buzzed...we'll host our own Oktoberfest and I will attempt a pilsner.
With the event over, I convinced myself that I had not yet had enough food and strolled over to Katanaya for their spicey tofu ramen. As I slurped up the perfect al dente noodles, reading an article in the complimentary issue of Gourmet about a food experience steeped in tradition, red speckeled dropplets hitting the pages, I kept thinking to myself, "wow, I'm getting pretty full, but this is so enjoyable, I love the act of eating noodles". Eventually, I stopped myself, the bowl was just too big.
And while I had pushed the physical envelope, it seemed I could still handle the thought and sight of food so I went to see Julie & Julia and watched Meryl Streep do an impeccable personation of the great Julia Childs and cook through 2 hours worth of film. Part way through one of Julie Powell's meltdowns, my tummy began its own quiet meltdown. The pounds of butter in the movie, mixed with the array of bases and acids I consumed in the past 24 hours...I wished I could reach into the movie and grab some of those Tums.
On the MUNI ride home, as my friend flipped through my soup stained Gourmet, I could not look at the photos of baked tomato slices and other beautiful food. It was too much, I could not look, yet I could not turn away. I walked into the house, found the Rolaids and threw in the towel. I was done. Of course, only after having just ONE more bite of the leftover ramen. Oh why am I so weak against good food.
My tummy still hates me this morning. I only had a one day pass to SF Chefs Food Wine, I can't imagine how people with multi-day passes must be feeling. But I think it started the evening before with the Heirloom Tomato Dinner at Coffee Bar where every course featured tomato. Its tomato season and everywhere you look, tomatoes. Every menu or magazine you pick up tomatoes.
Under the big tent at Union Square the tasting bites, wine and cocktails were plenty. Every other vendor seemed to be serving some rendition of gazpacho. More tomato down the hatch, followed by wine and ginger liquer cocktails and backhanded comments (i.e., "If you want to go to Hollywood you have to watch what you eat" or "She's craking up, don't give her too much [booze]".) I guess thats what happens when I don't have the defense of companions. Nonetheless, Pizza Antica's Tuscan Kale bruschetta was my favorite. The brewers session was a lighthearted yet compassionate discussion about hops, malts, and local craft. All the beers were wonderful but the Smokey the Beer which tasted like bacon and a campfire was the most memorable. I heart our local brewmasters, they are truely chefs and artisans. I walked away inspired, and happily buzzed...we'll host our own Oktoberfest and I will attempt a pilsner.
With the event over, I convinced myself that I had not yet had enough food and strolled over to Katanaya for their spicey tofu ramen. As I slurped up the perfect al dente noodles, reading an article in the complimentary issue of Gourmet about a food experience steeped in tradition, red speckeled dropplets hitting the pages, I kept thinking to myself, "wow, I'm getting pretty full, but this is so enjoyable, I love the act of eating noodles". Eventually, I stopped myself, the bowl was just too big.
And while I had pushed the physical envelope, it seemed I could still handle the thought and sight of food so I went to see Julie & Julia and watched Meryl Streep do an impeccable personation of the great Julia Childs and cook through 2 hours worth of film. Part way through one of Julie Powell's meltdowns, my tummy began its own quiet meltdown. The pounds of butter in the movie, mixed with the array of bases and acids I consumed in the past 24 hours...I wished I could reach into the movie and grab some of those Tums.
On the MUNI ride home, as my friend flipped through my soup stained Gourmet, I could not look at the photos of baked tomato slices and other beautiful food. It was too much, I could not look, yet I could not turn away. I walked into the house, found the Rolaids and threw in the towel. I was done. Of course, only after having just ONE more bite of the leftover ramen. Oh why am I so weak against good food.
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