East Coast Epiphany

Posted on 7 May, 2014 by Tina

The company conference on the East Coast is over.  After a 3:30 a.m. ride to SFO by my Brazilian friend that drives for Uber, my Monday started much earlier than usual.  Normally I would have packed lighter for a 2-night stay, but both Newark, New Jersey and New York City were predicting rain.  Thus, I packed 2 pairs of jeans, 3 sweaters, another pair of dress pants, a wool coat, 2 pairs of boots, underwear, socks, a sarong to sleep in and an umbrella.  That didn’t even include toiletries and cosmetics.  Since I’ve become a Mileage Plus Explorer Card member at the start of the year, United gives me one free checked bag for every ticket that I purchase using said card.  Basically, I checked a free bag simply because I could!  I was disappointed, however, NOT to get TSA pre-check, which I’d received about 5 of the last 6 flights.  I hate taking off my shoes, coat, watch, then taking liquids and iPad/laptop out of my bag when the people in front of me are slow pokes and the people behind me are rushing.  My traveling ensemble for the day was a purple sweatsuit…  by Calvin Klein.  (I can hear the oohs and ahhs now.)  Word to the wise:  Do NOT wear baggy clothing when going through security.  They will DEFINITELY pat you down.  Maybe if it was a cute guy patting me down, I wouldn’t mind so much, but does that ever happen?  No!  By the time I’d gone through security, some of the food places were opening.  I had my heart set on a slice of Weekend Cake (for breakfast!) from Just Desserts.  Of course, they didn’t have any.  I went elsewhere and picked up a breakfast sandwich, which consisted of sausage, cheese and scrambled eggs in a croissant.  What a ghastly mistake!  The oiliness of it all, plus the sausage in particular, made me nauseous.  After 3 bites, I had to throw it away.  That left me with my $3.50 Coke to finish!  The Mileage Plus Explorer Card gives me “priority” boarding as well, which generally means that I’ll be in Group 2.  I got my window seat and settled in for a 5 1/2 to 6 hour nap, except for the screaming kid in the same row as me, albeit across the aisle.  The weather in Newark seemed almost nice upon landing.  I grabbed a taxi to the hotel and checked in.  Since I hadn’t exactly eaten breakfast, my first order of business was to find some grub.  There’s a little café in the Gateway Center that sells massive, tasty Italian submarines for $4.95.  Their lunch deal included the submarine sandwich, chips and a drink for $6.90.  Believe me, that would cost in the range of $10 to $12 in San Francisco!  I inhaled everything, relaxed a bit, hung out in the room of a co-worker from our Chicago office and waited to be picked up for dinner.

Dinner was at a Portuguese restaurant in the Ironbound District.  I believe there were 18 women and 1 man present for dinner.  Most of the appetizers were fried something or others.  I wasn’t paying much attention since I wasn’t having but a bite or two of them.  My entrée was beefsteak with shrimp and pepper sauce.  Scrumptious!  The best part of dinner was that the staff provided excellent service.  By that, I mean that they cleaned plates away immediately, constantly topped off water and other drinks, and placed a huge pitcher of sangria directly in front of me!  There was a massive table of desserts of which we could partake, but I declined.  I couldn’t even finish my entrée.  The management person hosting dinner had everyone at the table answer her “icebreaker” questions.  Who is your dream man?  Well, I have two – David Beckham and Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.  What would be your dream job?  When I was much younger, I’d always wanted to be an archaeologist.  Now that I’m older and wiser, I’d love to be a travel photographer.  If that doesn’t work out, I’d settle for being Johnny Depp’s personal assistant.

The epiphany part of this began at dinner.  We’d gone around the table introducing ourselves, saying what department we worked for, who we worked for, what city we worked in and how long we’d been with the company.  I will have been with the company for 20 years this coming September.  It surprised me how many of the others had been with the company 25-35 years!  When I looked around and saw all of these women, taking particular note of how they appeared in their lives (mostly complacent) and how they dressed (no offense, but really bland) and what they talked about (kids, dogs, food), I realized that I do NOT want to be like them in any way, shape or form.  I don’t want the life they have.  Hell, I don’t even want the life that I currently have!  If I’m being honest, my job bores me.  Sure, it pays the bills, has great benefits and my bosses are nice, but it doesn’t challenge me or give me new opportunities.  The apartment I live in is old, but my rent (as master tenant) is cheap.  Everything is slowly falling apart, but management is slow to fix anything.  Even though my rent is cheap, I have two male roommates.  My friends in NoCal have proven to mostly be huge flakes or (even worse) users.  After my last relationship and those horrible on-line dating experiences, I don’t even care about being with anyone in all of the Bay area.  As I said, the dinner was the start of me thinking about all of those negatives more than I usually do.

The conference was the following day – all day.  Talking to all of the people there just drilled it into me even more.  It’s time for a change.  Can I do it?  Can I give myself a timeline?  Can I commit to it?  Do I even know where I want to go or what I want to do?  Life is too short to be unhappy and mine is already half over (at least).  Maybe it’s time to take a risk, a huge one.

When the conference was finished, there was a Happy Hour of sorts.  I had a few drinks and mingled.  Then I went back to my hotel room, took a nap, freshened up, changed and took the PATH train into NYC to meet up with a friend at a wine bar in Greenwich Village.  My friend and I haven’t known each other more than a few years, so we’re not particularly close.  After a few glasses of wine, dating and relationships came up.  Out of the blue, he asked me “Are you looking for a life partner?”  I hesitated to answer.  When I was married before, I thought HE was my life partner.  After divorcing him, I’ve never really thought I’d marry again.  I wouldn’t rule it out completely, but it’s not high on my list.  “No!” I finally confessed.  I’d like to be with someone again, don’t see it happening in NoCal and don’t want a “life partner” if it HAS to mean marriage.  Of course, I say all of this now, yet things could turn on a dime.  Funny how life works, huh?  The PATH train doesn’t run very often after midnight and I had to make a connection, too.  So…  I didn’t get back to Newark until 3:00 a.m.  My usual covered walkway into the Gateway Center was blocked off, forcing me to go outside of Penn Station in the rain.  I was confused as to which direction the hotel was, but some man was kind enough to walk me to the hotel personally.

The next morning I was up early to make another quick dash into NYC via the PATH train to do an hour’s worth of shopping.  Back in Newark, I picked up another Italian sub for the plane ride back, got to the airport early, had a drink at a bar, then sat at the gate pondering those same questions over and over.

As you may have gathered, I was never the kind of girl who dreamed of having a load of kids, living in a house with a white picket fence, being a cat lady or anything of the sort.  Even though I’m still not that person now, where do I start to make some changes that will give me more personal satisfaction in my life?  I kind of have a plan – a crazy one – that will take at least until the end of this year, if not a bit longer.  I’m not at all going to say what it is or even give away a mere hint of it.  It’s better not to say anything more, in case I don’t follow through.  I have such a strong feeling about this, though.

Someone else might be perfectly happy with my life, but I’ve always been different.  So send me some positive vibes to start me on this journey.  I know there’s a pot of gold waiting for me just over that rainbow.

Categories: dating, Food/Restaurants, Friends, Men, Relationships, Roommates, Travel | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Catching Up With the Relatives

Posted on 3 May, 2014 by Tina

My second cousin, V., and her husband, M., were in town from Hawaii one evening last week.  They’d been in Reno for a family reunion the weekend before, then stayed with another cousin for a few days in Benicia-Martinez.  On the night they were in San Francisco, I met them in Chinatown.  V., although born and raised mainly in Hawaii, graduated from high school in Vallejo.  Therefore, I didn’t bother to remind her about the cooler weather in San Francisco, as she was already aware of it.  Even so, when I caught up with them, she had bought a hoodie and a second pair of gloves (had left the first pair at the hotel) and was shivering away.  Even M. admitted to being a little cold.

I shuffled them over to North Beach to have drinks at Panta Rei.  As we walked there, M. commented that North Beach was much nicer than Chinatown.  Chinatown is much more crowded than North Beach, so it’s difficult even walking down the sidewalk.  Tons of businesses are crammed into small spaces, too, unlike in North Beach.  We sauntered up to the bar at Panta Rei and settled in for 2 or 3 rounds of mimosas, bellinis and mojitos.  Once we were feeling “Pharrell happy,” we walked to Ideale for dinner.  V. and M. shared a salad as an appetizer, V. had seafood linguini, M. had branzino, I had bucatini amatriciana, there were profiteroles for dessert and there was prosecco, wine and beer to keep that good mood going.  They loved the food!  M. had asked me if I knew of any live music places, but my mind was blank until we walked by The Saloon, where a live band was already cranking out some tunes.  I seldom go to The Saloon, beings the crowd can be a little dicey, the place always smells rancid and someone is forever trying to open the bathroom door when you’re in there.  M. wanted to kick up his heels, though, so we made a stop.  Honestly, we had a really good time.  I was even just hammered enough to dance with M.  V. made a few videos, but I’ll never post those anywhere that people might recognize me!

This past week the Rebel Souljahz were in town, along with the Mango Kingz (SF locals) and Anuhea, for a concert at Mezzanine.  I hate going to Mezzanine, especially on a school night, for a concert.  However, the lead singer of Rebel Souljahz, Mike, is my distant cousin.  Thus, I manned up and went.  It took me 30 minutes in line to make it inside and another 30 minutes to get a drink.  When I wanted to buy a Rebel Souljahz T-shirt, it was cash only.  Anuhea’s group was taking both cash and credit cards, though.  I, who seldom carry cash, went to the ATM and withdrew cash, along with paying that ATM fee, to purchase aforementioned T-shirt.  Mango Kingz were already playing by the time I made it inside.  The Rebel Souljahz came on promptly at 10:30 p.m. and played for an hour.  Although I may be slightly biased and it was my first time seeing them perform, they were great in concert.  High energy level!  Once their set was over, I hightailed it out of there.  I didn’t wait for Anuhea’s set, figuring it wouldn’t be over until 1:00 a.m.  Mezzanine is in what my roommate describes as a “super sketchy” area.  Had I waited until Anuhea finished her set, hundreds of people would have converged outside at the same time in search of taxis and Uber cars.  I chose not to deal with that by leaving early and walking home.At Ideale

Drinks at Panta Rei

Categories: Drinking, Family, Food/Restaurants, San Francisco | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Regrets, Of Which I Have Many

Posted on 25 April, 2014 by Tina

My advice to people has always been “Move forward.  Don’t look back.  No regrets.”  Recently, it seems, I haven’t been following my own advice.  Something has me on a very serious sentimental journey which involves a ton of regrets.  Now my life in retrospect – the travels, the relationships, the material possessions, etc. – seems like nothing in comparison to that one thing that I could have changed.  I had more than one chance to change it, too.  For the past week, I’ve just been dwelling on it, feeling very emotional about it and spiraling downwards.  There’s a small chance yet to turn this around, but it also depends on outside influence.  The first step, which is a big one, scares the hell out of me.  On the other hand, I have a mad desire to take a giant leap of faith, involving removing my safety net (i.e. stability) completely.  That’s so uncharacteristic of me.

In the meantime, there’s a short trip to the East Coast to deal with.  I have to attend a dinner, then an all-day conference, as well as meeting up with someone at a wine bar who seems to really like me.  While I’d rather do nothing more than crawl into a hole and hide from the world, it’s not exactly an option at this time.

Note to self:  “I can maintain.”  (Repeat over and over.)

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Bonne Anniversaire, Mon Amour!

Posted on 13 April, 2014 by Tina

Today is the birthday of my ex-husband.  Maybe it was coincidence that I ran into one of his French friends this morning that I rarely see.  Since I bear no ill will towards him in the least, let me amuse you with a few memories of him.

I miss him waiting for me after work on the days that he didn’t work; he’d either be in my office lobby or waiting downstairs in my building, so that we could take the cable car home together.  On the days he wasn’t waiting for me, but not working, I’d come home and open the apartment door to the smells of something delicious cooking.  He’d bundle me up in bed watching a movie until dinner was ready, then we’d eat.  On the days that he did work, I’d usually be playing video games when he got home.  My favorite video game is a snowboarding one called “Tricky.”  When he’d get home, we’d play “Tricky” for a couple of hours.

Being French, he was an excellent cook.  We routinely had people over for lunch and/or dinner.  When one of us decided to make something, the other would try to one up them.  It was like a cooking competition!  He was, by far, the better cook, though.  He was the type that never had to measure anything.  Plus, he could whip something up at the drop of a hat and it would turn out excellent.  When my friends would ask what it was, I’d tell them that there was no name for it ’cause he’d just made it up!  I was using my bad American influence on him, though; got him hooked on baked potatoes with tons of butter, sour cream, bacon bits and chives, in addition to Kraft macaroni and cheese with vegetable broth (instead of milk) and Cajun spices!

He was funny and sweet.  He didn’t know the English word for “toes,” so called them “foot fingers”!  He also referred to “jet lag” as “jet flag” and always said “virgin” when he meant “version.”  His nickname for me was Bunny Butt.  Don’t ask me why!  Actually, we both ended up calling each other “Bunny.”  One time when I returned on a flight from Europe, he met me at the airport holding a sign that said “Bunny.”

We went to Hawaii twice together.  At the Aloha Stadium Swap Meet when he was hungry, I told him to go to one of the food trucks and get something to eat.  He ended up buying malasadas, which he loved.  While we did our shopping separately at the Swap Meet, we met up to discover that he’d bought gifts for me and vice versa.  He was further amazed that the McDonalds in Hawaii have steamed rice, fresh pineapple and linguica.  When he met my great-Aunty Rose in Kauai, she asked me where he was from.  I told her “France.  Why?”  “He seems Portagee!” she proclaimed.  “Well, he likes malasadas and linguica, so he may as well be Portuguese!” I laughed.

So, Mon Lapin, I hope you’re enjoying your day, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing.  I still think of you and miss you.  I will always wish you the strength to deal with your issues when and how you choose to, wish you harmony in your life, wish you happiness with friends and family, and wish you great love with someone who truly appreciates you and gives you much love in return.

Bunny Busting a Move on the Dance Floor

Bunny Busting a Move on the Dance Floor

Us at Christmas

Us at Christmas

 

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Hostile Habits and Salacious Selfies

Posted on 12 April, 2014 by Tina

Most of you are familiar with my horror stories of on-line dating – something that my ex-roommate convinced me to try about a year ago.  In truth, I’d “tried” an on-line dating site before my roommate convinced me to seriously try the one he’d suggested.  In other words, I’d set up a profile on a site simply to see what would happen; it was my trial period.  I didn’t meet (in person) a single man from that site.  Mostly men that I wasn’t attracted to contacted me.  Of the few that I was slightly attracted to, one didn’t show up for our meeting, one kept inviting himself over to my apartment and to my sauna sessions, and the last one kept saying how attracted he was to me, but was afraid to give me his phone number.  Others would send me messages once in awhile, but nothing of consequence.

So I went on the website that my roommate suggested; he insisted that it’s the best on-line dating website out there, although he was merely hooking up with women and not exactly dating any of them!  I managed to go on a large number of dates within 3 months, or something like that.  All of the men were nice enough (with the exception of one), but I was only truly attracted to one of them.  The one that I was attracted to didn’t fit my qualifications – that he live IN San Francisco and that he did NOT have kids.  Getting back to the rude one, to make a long story short, he got quite drunk on our date.  In fact, he’d been drinking at another bar prior to meeting up with me.  After several drinks, he started insinuating that he’d spend the night with me or vice versa.  Then he became self conscious about some scar on his chin and actually sat on the other side of me so that I couldn’t see it.  That was weird in itself, as I hadn’t been staring at it at all!  Finally, he said something about me wearing “cheap Filipino shoes.”  That’s all fine & dandy, except for the fact that I was raised amongst white redneck-type people in the Midwest, have never been to the Philippines, know next to nothing about the Filipino culture, have only a few Filipino acquaintances and haven’t the foggiest idea what Filipinos “typically” wear in the shoe category or otherwise!  He’d stomped off in a huff, came back within 5 minutes to apologize, I ignored him and he left again.

Before we go any further, let me tell you this about the FIRST website.  Some incredibly attractive Italian man had contacted me on there.  He’d asked for my E-mail so that he could send me a picture.  Of course, the picture that he sent was a NAKED one!  Even though he had a beautiful body, I wrote to him that it was NOT what I’d expected.  We didn’t have any further contact after that and I quit going onto that website, anyway.  He then found me on Facebook due to my E-mail.  I asked if he was stalking me, but he insisted that he’s not that type of person.  I tentatively friended him on Facebook.  Of course, his profile on there shows that he likes plenty of porn actresses and his friends seem to be composed mostly of older women.  Of all the photos on my profile, the one he marked as “liked” was one of me in my pajamas.  I already found that weird.  Then we had some interchange where he was posting pictures of his body on his profile page.  When I asked why he didn’t post more photos showing his face, he got completely bent out of shape and told me to “get off” his page if I didn’t like it.  I said to myself “What a psycho!”  Of course, I then defriended him, blocked him and changed both my profile name and my E-mail address on Facebook.

Now let’s move on to the only man that I was attracted to from the second website.  We liked each other and would text each other occasionally, but never went on a second date, though he’d said that he wanted to.  Maybe 4 months after our date, I received a text from him with…  a naked picture!  We never even kissed, much less talked about the possibility of having sex.  So what prompted the naked picture?!  You tell me!  I just don’t understand men’s behavior on these dating websites (or in general).

I barely go on the second website any more.  I’d done a second round of dating, consisting of 2 dates, back in December.  Since then, I haven’t bothered to go out with anyone else or barely answered any of the messages from there.  However, since I’m a glutton for punishment, I went onto a third dating website.  A guy on there wanted to be my connection.  We sent each other a few messages.  I told him that he could contact me via my E-mail.  He said that E-mail was “so 90’s,” but that I could text him since he’d given me his phone number.  It was already apparent that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed because he did NOT give me his phone number.  After that, rather than deal with any drama, I deleted him as a connection.  So what happens next?  He found my profile on the SECOND dating website, then proceeded to write me a nasty rant about how he didn’t see how anyone could put with my attitude, that I need to get over myself and that there are plenty of the type of guys I’m looking for in the Bay area.  Really?  Honey, you need to let it go.  If you don’t like my profile, then move along.  If it hurt your feelings that I deleted you as a connection, get over it.  But since he seemed to go out of his way to find my profile on another site and send me that rant, it merely confirms that he’s got nothing better to do!  My response to him was “I could care less what you think,” followed by me blocking him.

Now I have a couple of connections from this third dating website.  Think I’ll try Asian Pacific Islander guys this time around!  It doesn’t matter to me any more; my intentions are to delete my profile from this website at the end of this month.  The website keeps “suggesting” men to me in ages ranging from about 48 to 70 who look like they’re 80 and would have a heart attack if we even went dancing!  Guess I’ll resign myself to vacation romances where I’ll have met the guys IN PERSON first!

In the meantime, guys, what’s up with all of this hostility and naked pictures?!  Shed some light, please.

Categories: dating, Men, Social Media | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Coffee, Tea or Me?

Posted on 12 April, 2014 by Tina

A single woman traveling alone faces many obstacles that male travelers, couples, families or groups of friends do not.  What reminded me of this was another blog where a woman discussed her experiences with Couchsurfing.  Couchsurfing is a website where you can offer up your place for someone to stay for a few days for free (with you there) or where you can search for a place to stay for free.  Although some of my friends have offered their places for couchsurfers, I have neither offered my place or searched for another myself.  The woman on the blog had said that of the 5 men who had hosted her, 2 had expressed an interest in having sex with her before she even arrived at their place, 2 had expressed interest in having sex with her once she was there and the other never mentioned it at all.  She said that, once she’d turned them down, they suddenly had little to no time to spend with her in whatever city she was visiting, thus basically ignoring her after being turned down.  A guy at work had told me that he recently attended a charity function where another man was aggressively flirting with him, which he tried to avoid as much as possible.  “Now I know how women feel!” he commented.  When I mentioned that woman’s couchsurfing experience, he then said something like “Well, good luck staying with guys.  What does she expect?!”  Although he’d just admitted to bonding with women by being unwillingly pursued by a man, in another breath, he basically says that women should EXPECT these things when dealing with the opposite sex!  I’ll be honest and say that I usually do NOT usually trust most people; that’s one of the reasons I never bothered to give the Couchsurfing website a try.

On my first trip to Paris, with another female, we were heading back to our hotel in the Montmartre area from Le Quartier Latin via Le Metro.  We were unaware that Le Metro shut down at 1:00 a.m.  Not only were we were unaware, we also didn’t realize that it would skip all of the stops in between and kick everyone off at the last stop at 1:00 a.m.  When we exited Le Metro, we knew at once that we were in a rather unsavory part of town.  We hadn’t a clue as to what direction to walk and this was before the days of cell phones, thus we couldn’t Google directions or any such thing.  As we were walking along cluelessly, we noticed that several men in cars would flash their headlights at us.  We assumed that that was probably a signal to prostitutes to let them know that they were interested.  So we ignored all of the flashing headlights and kept walking with our eyes averted.  We soon noticed three guys about a block ahead of us, on the same side of the street as us.  “What shall we expect here?  Rape and/or riot?” I tried to joke.  We discussed the possibility of crossing the street, but thought that would make our uncomfortableness even more obvious.  As we got closer to them, I instructed my friend to speak quickly and quietly to me, as they might not speak English very well.  The 3 guys DID speak English, but no, not well.  They asked where we were from.  Once we said “Los Angeles,” they started yelling “James Dean” and “Lakers.”  What made me nervous is that they tried to get in between us.  I quickly (and quietly) told my friend to walk as close to me as possible, which she did.  When they asked if we were alone, I gave her THAT look.  She told them that her brother was waiting for us at the hotel, but he hadn’t wanted to go shopping and to dinner with us.  We were quietly beginning to panic when I noticed a cab about a block and a half away.  I whispered to her that we should make a run for the cab on the count of 3.  We ran, with the 3 guys chasing after us.  We jumped in the cab, one of the guys kept trying to open the door on my side, I kept kicking him out and slamming the door, then we instructed the driver frantically “Allez!  Allez!”  When he asked where we were going, he didn’t understand my pronunciation of Lamarck-Coulaincourt.  As soon as he got us near the Montmartre area and a few streets that we recognized, we told him that it was fine to let us out.  We threw a bunch of money in the front seat, to which he said “Oh la la!  It’s too much!”  We insisted that he keep it for getting us back unscathed.

On another trip, I was in Paris (alone) for one night, traveling from Rome back to San Francisco.  When I was walking around near the Pont des Arts that afternoon, an attractive man approached me and asked if he could take me to see some of the sights in Paris.  I assured him that I’d been to Paris many times and had seen most of the sights there were to see.  He asked if I’d seen them from the back of a motorcycle.  Well, that intrigued me, so I agreed to hop on the back of his motorcycle while he drove me around Paris.  In truth, it was really fun, although the guy wasn’t French.  He was from Croatia, I believe.  When he dropped me off at my hotel, he asked if he could take me for drinks that night.  I thought it would be fine, so we agreed to meet at a certain time.  That evening he didn’t take me for drinks, so much as he bought a bottle of wine and wanted to sit on the banks of the Seine drinking it together.  That was fine, but not what I’d had in mind.  He then asked if I wanted to see some chateau, one that I’d honestly never seen.  I said “Ok” and we took off on the motorcycle.  That particular chateau was on the outskirts of Paris.  He didn’t exactly take me to the chateau, though, as to a dark and secluded spot in the “bois.”  I said as much to him once we’d stopped.  His next move was to try and intimidate me a little and ask me if I was scared.  “Should I be?” I asked him.  I can’t quite remember what his response was, but he alluded to the fact that he might possibly attack me.  Nice, huh?  Rather than bluff that my hands and feet are lethal weapons, I simply said “All I know is this – I’m not going down without a fight.  If by any chance, I DO manage to get the best of you, not only will I take your motorcycle, but I’ll run you over with it and leave you here.”  I’m not sure if He was looking down on me or whether the guy thought I’d be too much trouble to deal with, but he decided to take me back to my hotel.  Once we got to my hotel, he pushed his way into my room and kept saying that he could give me a massage to relax me.  I assured him that if he didn’t leave my room, I’d call the guy at reception and have him forcibly removed from my room.  We ended with him insisting on giving me his phone number, in case I “wanted to try it again sometime.”  ?!?!

On my first full day in Georgetown, Penang, Malaysia, I’d walked to the main part of downtown, which was quite a distance from my hotel.  There was a huge overpass thing, which I had to walk across.  It was a sweltering Sunday afternoon and no one seemed to be around.  Of course, once I was right in the midst of the overpass, I DID notice someone – a middle-aged man masturbating in broad daylight!  When he realized that I saw him, he glared at me as if I was intruding.  I kept walking with my eyes straight ahead, trying to act as normal as possible.  Believe me, that definitely colored my first impression of Georgetown.

I stayed at two different hotels in Georgetown.  In the evening at the first hotel, I’d usually walk to one of the night markets to get some street food, which I’d take back to my room.  Although the second hotel was in a much more touristed area, when I would walk in the evening, Muslim men would stare and follow me.  They would be so close that it was unnerving.  I’ve traveled many, many places alone, so it takes quite a bit to scare me.  I felt so uncomfortable, however, that I started getting something to eat and taking it back to my room before 8:00 p.m., not venturing out after that.  Staying in my room after the sun sets because I’m afraid is NOT my idea of a great vacation.

Another friend had mentioned to me that, whenever he’d traveled to a Muslim country with a girlfriend, he basically had to act as a bodyguard.  His girlfriend could never go out alone without being harassed.  A female friend of mine had said that whenever she and another female went out together in Egypt, without their boyfriends, they were followed and harassed, too.  Another guy relayed to me that his female friend, when going alone down to breakfast, was not served; can’t remember which country that was in, though.

I WILL say that I’ve NEVER been bothered in my numerous trips to Bali, Hawaii or even New Orleans, as surprising as that might be.  I can wear whatever I want (especially in 90 degree weather with high humidity), men have thus far always been gentlemen and everyone has been especially helpful in those 3 places.

These experiences aren’t going to stop me from traveling alone.  I refuse to go on any huge tour group or even on a cruise; I want to see things in my own time and stay for as little or as long as pleases me.  I want to mingle with local people, but always remain acutely aware of my surroundings.  I might have to get a new supply of pepper spray, though…

 

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Feeling My Mortality

Posted on 25 March, 2014 by Tina

Have you every done something stupid like make a mixed tape of songs that remind you of someone?  I have…  more than once.  I’m so old that I made mixed tapes on cassettes of songs that reminded me of former boyfriends.  Of course, I made those mixed tapes when I was still DATING said guys.  Years later, it’s very difficult to listen to those cassettes (for one, it’s hard to find a cassette player in modern times!).  After 20 or 30 years, you think those songs can’t touch you, but you’re wrong.  As soon as you hear the first strains of any of “those” songs, it takes you right back to 1979 or 1985 or whenever it was, and cuts like a knife.  Who would have thunk that I’d shed a tear, several actually, over songs like “Just Like Heaven,” “Reunited” or even “Flashlight?!”

Those songs/cassettes remind me of all of the times that I thought I was in love; a few of those times, I actually was.  You know, when you’re with someone, especially if you’ve been with them for awhile, you think you’ll never forget their kiss or their touch or what it’s like to make love with them.  As time passes, you eventually DO forget.  You wonder if it wasn’t as serious as you made it out to be or if you’re just senile.  Yet when you play one of those songs, you feel all of those emotions as if it was yesterday.  And if you DO suddenly remember the tenderness of their kiss, their gentle touch or what it was like to lay in bed and make love all afternoon with them while Teddy Pendergrass played in the background, that makes you all emotional.  What makes it worse is realizing that Teddy Pendergrass has long since passed away, but you’re still aging and filing through your dim memories.

I console myself by telling myself that I’m making memories every moment of my life and that some of them are bound to be better and more romantic and more memorable and more what-have-you than those from the distant past.  But I’m feeling mortal, and it’s scaring me, ever so slightly.

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The Three C’s – Cinema, Crime & Concerts

Posted on 25 March, 2014 by Tina

The week before last I was made aware of the CAAMFest (i.e. Center for Asian-American Media Film Festival) via something posted on Facebook.  I thought I knew about most of the film festivals that take place in San Francisco, but had never heard of this one.  I checked out the schedule since it started the Thursday before last.  I was happy to discover two Hawaii-related films would be showing; “Hula – Merrie Monarch’s Golden Celebration” and “The Haumana.”  I immediately bought tickets to both.  “Hula” was showing on a Saturday afternoon at the Kabuki Theater in Japantown.  The movie was prefaced by a short film called “Lolena’s Legacy,” which was about the preservation of the Hawaiian language in schools today.  Lolena herself was born and raised on the island of Niihau, the island which is (still, I believe) banned to tourists.  Residents must be full-blooded Hawaiians.  I don’t know much else about Niihau other than it’s visible from the western side of Kauai and that their tiny white shells are highly prized (and no, I’m not talking about puka shells!).  Lolena eventually moved to Honolulu as an adult, where she was recruited to teach children the native Hawaiian language.  Teachers were instructed to speak ONLY in Hawaiian, no matter whether the children understood or not; they would eventually figure it out, as they had no choice.  That short film was fascinating to me, as I realized that I don’t know anyone or have never, to my knowledge, heard anyone speak completely in Hawaiian.  The school wasn’t only teaching Hawaiian to children of Hawaiian descent, but to everyone, even little haole kids!  It was beautiful to see children have complete conversations and joke with their parents only in Hawaiian.  I only know certain words in Hawaiian and learn new ones all the time, explained to me by my friends and relatives from the Islands.  Anyway, I was really moved by that short film and think that it’s a wonderful project/legacy/undertaking to preserve a language that often seems more “lost” than others.  “Hula” was basically a documentary about the humble beginnings, struggles and the progression of the Merrie Monarch Festival, an annual hula festival held in Hilo, Hawaii.  There was lots of amazing footage of hula halaus performing at the festival, as to be expected.  I caught glimpses of both Patrick Makuakane and Mark Ho’omalu, two amazing hula instructors from here in the Bay area.  There was also a brief shot of Keali’i Reichel performing, an incredible hula instructor, as well as a very successful singer.  I saw “The Haumana” on Sunday night, also at the Kabuki Theater.  It was about a hula instructor who’d passed away and left her men’s class to a former student, who currently performed in a tourist act in Waikiki.  It was quite cheesy, but the most beautiful thing about it was reminding me that it’s traditional for students who want to learn hula to stand outside the school and sing/chant to the instructor, basically asking their permission to enter and learn.  The instructor sings/chants in answer to them to give his/her permission before they cross the threshold of the school.  (If I’m getting any of this wrong, please feel free to correct me, for those of you who are far more well informed than me!)  The funniest part of the movie was the casting of Kelly Hu as a local bartender at the Pau Hana Lounge, which actually exists.  She was cast as one of those tough-acting bartenders with a heart of gold, but she made me laugh.

On to the crime part, as I know you’re chomping at the bit to know what I’m talking about.  On Sunday afternoon I was in the shoe department of Macy’s in Union Square.  I know that I gave up shoe shopping for Lent, but I didn’t give up slipper/sandal/boot shopping, which is different to me.  It’s just like I gave up macarons and cupcakes, but not ALL sweets/desserts.  I was specific about my sacrifices!  So I had picked out about 5 pairs of boots to try on, since they were having a great sale, made even better by an additional 25% off if you waited until Wednesday to pick them up.  I was sitting in a chair with my purse at my side, my hoodie over it and my cell phone in the pocket of my hoodie.  The saleswoman who’d brought me the boots was standing right in front of my chair.  I got up out of the chair for a mere 20 or 30 seconds to walk to a mirror a few feet away to see how the boots looked, leaving the saleswoman with my things.  When I returned, my purse was gone, my hoodie was on the floor and my cell phone was laying in the chair!  I was shocked, to say the least.  I kept asking her “Where’s my purse?!  Didn’t you see anyone take it?  Weren’t you watching at all?!”  She seemed nonplussed, hardly concerned.  Meanwhile, another woman informed me that she’d seen a “dirty blonde with dreadlocks” pick up the purse.  This woman had thought the purse belonged to the blonde.  When she picked up my purse and the hoodie fell off, this woman said to her “You dropped something.”  According to her, the blonde looked at her, didn’t say anything and walked quickly away.  To make a long story short, she and I couldn’t find any security on the floor.  We ran downstairs to a few of the exits to see if we could spot the blonde, to no avail.  When we got back to the shoe department, the saleswoman said that there was security somewhere “over there,” as she vaguely pointed in another direction.  Then she informed that she’d saved my boots for me.  What good did that do, if I had no way of paying for them?!  Security and a floor manager came over to talk to us.  The other woman described what she saw, admitting that she actually thought it was a man becoming a woman.  The thief had walked right by a security camera.  However, they informed us that their cameras are live-time only.  Since they don’t actually record anything, they couldn’t rewind the tape to see who the person was.  I realized that they weren’t going to be any help whatsoever and that precious time was ticking away.  I quickly walked home (my Fast Pass had been in my purse), then texted both of my roommates and the maintenance man of the building, since I didn’t have keys to get into the apartment.  One of my roommates came home and let me in and the maintenance man went to make more keys for me.  In the meantime, I started calling credit card companies.  The thief had immediately made his/her way to Apple and charged $545!  It’s nice to know that Apple didn’t bother checking ID for a purchase over $500.  No other charges were made.  I cancelled my credit cards, ATM card and closed down my checking account the next day.  Aside from the stress, everything was taken care of, except my ID.  I’m using my passport for the moment, but am dreading going to DMV.  The next available appointment was in April, so I’ll take my chances and go tomorrow morning.  On a side note, the ticket for “The Haumana” was also in the purse, but I really wanted to see the movie, so simply bought another one.  When I went back to Macy’s the following day to explain to them that the thief also had a receipt for something I had on hold at Macy’s, the floor manager saw me again.  I was actually very curt with her ’cause I was still really pissed off.  She felt so bad that she gave me a coupon for $25 off of my entire purchase, PLUS an additional 20% off each item (not including the 25% off for pre-sale) that I was interested in.  Now how could I pass that up?!  She instructed the shoe salesman to give me extra special attention, which he did.  I bought some boots at a SUBSTANTIAL discount, apologized to her for being an incredible beeyotch and thanked the shoe salesman profusely for his patience with me.  In this case, my bitch mode paid off!!

Tuesday night as I was sitting home saying “Woe is me” to myself and perusing Facebook yet again, an acquaintance of mine had posted that Prince was having a last-minute concert at The Fillmore on Wednesday night.  There was a link to buy tickets.  I clicked on it immediately.  The 7:30 p.m. show was already sold out, but they’d just added an 11:00 p.ml. show.  I nearly had a heart attack trying to log on to Ticketmaster, waiting for them to E-mail my long forgotten password, entering my credit card info to have it rejected and re-entering my NEW credit card info and get everything taken care of before THAT show sold out.  When I clicked on the Purchase button and it confirmed that my ticket would be waiting at Will Call, I breathed a sigh of relief.  I had a date with Prince!!!  He was my favorite musician from about the time I was 19 until I was at least 25.  I never saw Michael Jackson, Elvis Presley, any of the Beatles, James Brown or so many others, but I was going to see Prince, dammit!  When Wednesday night arrived, I spent the first part of it drinking wine at Bouche.  I headed down to The Fillmore around 10:00 p.m. and stood in line at Will Call from 10:20 p.m. to 11:50 p.m.  Prince went on at 12:10 a.m., put on a hell of a show, did 3 encores, his band did an encore without him singing and it was over at 2:40 a.,m.  Prince is going to be 56 in June, but still looks damn good.  He can sing, dance, play instruments and get the crowd hyped up.  It was great seeing him in a smaller venue where you can get relatively close to him.  When he came out, he was very reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix with his hat and bandana.  His all-girl band had a drummer who kinda’ looked like Holly Madison, then the 2 guitarists who still reminded me of Wendy and Lisa from back in the day.  He did older songs like “I Want To Be Your Lover,” “I Could Never Take the Place of Your Man” and “Purple Rain,” of course.  He did my all-time favorite, “Always in My Hair.”  He also did quite a bit of “new” stuff that I wasn’t familiar with, but danced along to, nonetheless.  Although there were no T-shirts or such for sale, they did hand out free posters as we were leaving the venue.

So the little “bump in the road” didn’t ruin the rest of my week.  I danced, I drank, I shopped and I still made it to the gym 3 out of 7 nights (but I MUST do better than that this week).

Categories: Movies, Music, Roommates, San Francisco, Social Media | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

What All The Cool Kids Eat

Posted on 9 March, 2014 by Tina

A friend of mine from another state introduced me to a new craze – cookie butter.  He was in Cali for a conference, shall we say, when he got a request to bring some cookie butter back home.  I’d never heard of cookie butter before.  He told me that friends of his had brought some from Trader Joe’s.  I live 6 blocks from a Trader Joe’s, yet had never seen cookie butter.  Of course, I barely eat peanut butter, so it’s no surprise that I had no idea what cookie butter is.  Earlier this week I looked up cookie butter on the internet to see exactly what it is.  According to the internet, the one at Trader Joe’s is peanut butter mixed with crushed ginger cookies and coconut.  Another company makes cookie butter, too, but the one from Trader Joe’s seems to be the favorite.  Also, when it first came out, it was apparently so popular that customers were limited to 2 jars maximum.  A co-worker informed me that the cookie butter craze has been going on for awhile (she has 2 young boys) and that the Trader Joe’s near her is often sold out of it.  This afternoon I specifically made a trip to Trader Joe’s to (a) see if they had any, (b) see what flavors/selections they had, (c) see what the price was and (d) see if there was still a 2 jar limit.  The Trader Joe’s on California Street seemed to be well stocked with 3 different types – regular, crunchy and cocoa swirl.  The regular and crunchy were priced at $3.69/jar while the cocoa swirl was a little higher at $3.99/jar.  Luckily, there was no mention of a quantity limit. Apparently, this part of San Francisco didn’t get the memo that it’s the new phenomenon.  Then again, most of San Francisco isn’t quite as cool as they think.  Also, I’m obviously behind on this trend myself.  Although my friend wanted 4 jars of regular and 4 jars of cocoa swirl, I was reluctant to carry that much home.  I was also there to pick up liquids in the form of San Pellegrino, coconut water and Italian blood orange soda.  Thus, he’ll have to make do with 2 jars of regular and 2 jars of cocoa swirl for the time being.  Now I’ve been known to go to the gym and do a few light weights, but 4 jars of cookie butter, 4 cartons of coconut water, 2 bottles of San Pellegrino, 1 bottle of Italian blood orange soda and a few other sundry items nearly killed me on the way home!  My friend can have the additional 4 jars of cookie butter when my arms have recovered enough to make a return to Trader Joe’s!  Besides, I need to pick up a jar for myself to see what all the hype is about.  Exactly how does one eat cookie butter?  On toast?  Celery sticks?  With chips?  With churros?  Can one make actual cookie butter cookies, much like peanut butter cookies, with it?  What about a cookie butter bundt cake?  Feeling experimentation coming on.

Cookie Butter

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Told Ya So!

Posted on 8 March, 2014 by Tina

Remember the T.V. series, “Will and Grace,” where she does the “told ya so” dance when she was right?  Well, remember when Maoli and Jordan T. were here back in September for a concert? Although they were standing right outside the venue and I could have asked them for a photo, I didn’t.  Why?  Because I’d hurt my back at the gym, had actually taken Advil to make it feel better (from someone who NEVER takes medicine of any type unless desperate), wasn’t in the best mood and could barely stand for long periods of time.  However, I’d said that the next time they were in town, I hoped/planned/prayed to get a picture with them.  They just happened to be in town on Thursday night, performing at Neck of the Woods with the Mango Kingz.  I’d barely walked into the joint and had ordered a drink at the bar when I noticed J.T. right in front of me.  Although his back was to me, I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he would take a picture with me.  My friend took our picture, then I took theirs.  Later when the lead singer of Maoli walked by, we asked for a picture with him as well.  Finally, we asked the lead singer of Mango Kingz for a picture with him, though we already have one of us with the entire band.  I think he recognizes us, anyway! (Both Jordan T. and Maoli are from Maui, but the Mango Kingz are a local group.)  By the way, the concert was great and all of those guys are really sweet, especially Jordan T.  In addition, we were able to get directly in front of the stage for the concert.  I’ll say it again, Polynesian men are the best – they ALWAYS let the ladies go first.  In fact, they just stand back and point for you to stand in front of them!  Here are the pictures (I’m so proud):

Me with Jordan T.

My Friend & Me with Glenn of Maoli

My Friend & Me with Derrick of The Mango Kingz

 

And in case you need a little refresher on their music, here are links to their music videos.

“Sunset Tonight” – Jordan T.

“Time to Get Over” – Maoli

“Lady Sublime” – Mango Kingz

Categories: Entertainment, Music, Photos, San Francisco, Video | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment