Bohemians in the Snow

My friend Nicole celebrated her birthday this weekend by having her friends (19 twenty and thirty-something boho-eco-hippies) come to Tahoe for the weekend. We stayed in a house on the frozen Tahoe Keys where we could, at night, look at the stars and see foxes running across the ice as we drank beer in a rainbow-glowing hot tub. It pretty much had it all.

Here's the view looking out the back door, past the hot tub and frozen keys, to the mountains. So beautiful.



Sadly, my camera broke right at the beginning of the trip so I'm relying on my friend Rich for these photos. The gondola ride at Heavenly has the most amazing views of the lake. (I got to go skiing again, yippee!)



I won't forget this weekend soon. We laughed at silly things until we were giddy, and then we laughed again, and talked and ate and drank and danced and hot tubbed and skiied and played games and unsuccessfully tried to write a theme song and more. I'm still laughing out loud like an idiot every time I think about one of the comments made when we were playing a game--"It's the sound a genetically engineered sheep makes---BUH!"

Sunday we tried to sober up and went snowshoeing to Cascade Falls, which was mostly frozen over. You could see water running down the huge granite rock faces through holes in the ice and snow. I wish I'd had my camera to take a picture of that in particular, but I don't think there's any way I could have captured it.

I am in awe that there were many TVs in the house, yet even with 19 very different people, not a single one was turned on to create a common tie during the entire weekend. It was just too interesting without it.

Here's a photo from our snowshoe escapade. It was like walking in a fairytale, except kind of noisy with 10 clomping people :)

WHY ME, masturbating guy?

Be warned that I may veer into negativity in this post. I don't like to, but things happen, and it's kind of funny anyway.

I live on what has to be one of the safest streets in San Francisco. Living in the Presidio is almost like living in halfway suburbia; I have the cul de sac, the football-watching guys throwing footballs in the street, the confused art institute kids skateboarding, and people don't generally come to our street unless they live there or are visiting someone--or they're runners. We get a lot of runners.

I wasn't concerned when I was sitting on my well-lit front stoop, talking on the phone late, the night before last, when I saw a guy in running shorts walking down the street. I did notice that he seemed to be checking things out and walking a little slower than runners usually do, even ones that get tired by the time they reach our street. I was the only other person outside, as far as I could tell. He definitely saw me.

I would just like to preface what I am going to write next by saying that I don't know why, but this is the fifth time that this has happened to me. 3 out of 5 of the times have been in San Francisco. Guys here must be hard up (no pun intended, har har). All of the guys are very normal-looking, 30s-40s.

The first time is iffy as to whether the guy was actually flogging the pipe. I lived by myself on the first floor of a cute but decrepit 40's peach stucco building in Westwood my senior year of college. I, and the girls neighboring on the first floor of the next building, shared a small weedy garden space and a peeping Tom. I only saw him a couple of times, and he's the only one I yelled at (which was met by a look of glee). My two little cats actually did a pretty good job of alerting me to when he was around. Little buggers, they're the reasons I had to keep one of the venetian blinds up a little in the first place, so that they could get in and out (there were bars on the window).

After the first, I learned a little more about the whole practice of peeping--there was a lot of peeping around UCLA. A couple friends had their own personal peeper as well (though peepers do get around, sluts! he probably had a couple of regulars). They were often college students (isn't that kind of sad?) but there were also serial rapists in Westwood for a while so it didn't seem so harmless. I found out that the cops didn't care at all, and that peepers get off on being caught by their selected audience members, being yelled at, being humiliated in their pursuit. They also come back to the same spots over and over. The one near me would come sometimes after I took a shower--all the blinds in my bathroom were really closed. Creepy, huh?

I never found a good response to one. It's taken me by surprise every time. The best response I've ever heard was I think from "Steel Magnolias", something about saying to the guy "you call that a penis?".

After my introduction, I had #2 guy on packed commuter metro in daytime Paris with hand in pocket, 1 foot away from me, face to face #3 normal but frantic-looking guy on crowded Powell at Market, daytime, one hand tenting his jacket, the other choking the monkey (seriously, how do you get to the point where something like that gets you off?) #4 guy on second floor of his Russian Hill home, member protuding over the windowsill, again daytime.

And now to number 5. I wasn't really paying that much attention to him as he walked down the street. I was involved in my phone conversation and just enjoying the fresh air. I was still chatting as he leaned against a parking sign post directly across the street from me (about 25 feet away) and very very slowly pulled down his shorts to above his knees. I honestly didn't even realize he was naked or what he was doing until he started stroking. All that went through my head was "Oh no he DI'N'T!" (kind of like if I was about to get in a girl fight or something). He did it all extremely slowly, as if I was a wild animal that might get startled and flee. Which, of course, I did (and of course, i am a wild animal). I interrupted my friend on the phone, and went quietly into the house without acknowledging the guy.

I am so angry that this happened, because the guy will probably come back again. I don't feel safe in my safe safe street anymore. I am hyper aware of men on the street. Though, I don't feel weird about guys in general since then, especially because in retelling the story with the guys I work with, they all find it absurd and hilarious, and it's so good to laugh about it. It's become a running joke--what guy from work it actually was, how big it was, etc.

Additionally, I am not so hard up for humor that I can not appreciate the fact that the masturbating guy was a traditionalist and a gentleman, because he presented me with the traditional gift for a 5th anniversary. Wood.

Oh, masturbating guy, you remembered!

A play that wasn't dirty and a hike that really was

My first official week back at work.

The mid-week hump was countered with a play, "Sexual Perversity in Chicago". The theater posters of the woman in a black leather catsuit were extremely misleading! The play was awful and uninteresting, the couple in front of us was noisily sucking each other's faces the entire hour (short, eh?) and the most entertaining parts of the spectacle were a) watching my friend doze off and jerk back up long enough to hiss every time the couple started giving each other tongue baths (hello! because of the stadium seating we were a foot away from their heads.) b) making fun of same friend every time she fell asleep with other mutual friends, and c) trying to silently entertain my brain enough not to doze off myself.

Luckily we escaped (when it ended) and headed across the street for King of Thai Noodles. No atmosphere, amazing food. Shannon was very happy. All I remember about this photo is that she was dancing around singing "I'm innocent! I'm innocent!"

I also got to try out DODGEBALL for the first time (www.dodgeball.com), yet another online social network, this one owned by Google. So far it doesn't work too well, but maybe if more people join? I jokingly wrote to my 2-person network that I was at the Power Exchange, not really thinking that it would show up on Dodgeball's public website as the last place I'd gone out to. We went to the Redwood Room at the Clift later, and it was packed with MacWorld people. We narrowly escaped.

Thursday night I was supposed to go with a date to see some "folktronica" at the Hemlock but I decided to have a panic attack instead. It would have been cool though--the guy plays piano loaded with twigs and leaves. ummmm....yeah! I did have some powerful truffled risotto at Antica on Polk St. though.

Last night I went out with the roomies, Katiex2, and my friend, Shayla, to Nectar, a wine bar in the Marina. It was delicious. We each had flights and paired dishes. The South African and Bubbles flights were good. After we met some friends at Naked Fish (I am not a fan of that place, but their infused sake is pretty tasty) and headed to another bar in the Marina before gorging ourselves on ice cream at Johnny Rockets and made a game of making the group of stoners that came in after us as paranoid as possible by turning around at different times and just staring at them.

classic Katie WTF look





Today I went on a hike with X on the Muir Coastal Trail, a pretty long trip from Muir Beach to Tennessee Valley and back again. We were stomping through mud. Our running joke was "We are NOT going back to the car" as he slid and ruined his shoes and I succeeded in covering my entire left leg with mud. The views of the coast never ended. It was beautiful, but there were some rough bits, especially hiking to the top of this cliff/hill (those tiny lines at the top are people, and you still can't tell from this picture how dramatic it really is):

This is the view straight down from the edge of the cliff as we walked up that hill:

I like this photo because I always imagine, in looking out to the ocean horizon, that I can see the curvature of the earth. This photo seems to support that theory:

There were also lots of views of San Francisco beyond the coast, here with Tennessee Valley beach:

Yet another sunset, this one over Muir Beach. I never get tired of sunsets. They help you remember that time is actually passing and to appreciate it.

X and I made dinner together (he made pistachio and pecan-encrusted veal with spicy squash. impressive!). I made a salad that is usually pretty spectacular but tonight was less-than. Spinach, dried cherries, toasted pinenuts, and chevre with vinaigrette. I swear it's good, try it yourself.

Thank you for the Legs

I try, when I remember, to appreciate the fact that I have good solid legs that allow me to take part in all sorts of activities, and to use them frequently for this.

Last week I took this idea to a Sosia-esque extreme when I went hiking, then skiing, then biking.

I hiked the Tennessee Valley trail near sunset. It was quite crowded as usual but worth it for the views and to see the effect of the major rains we have had (yay, mud). There were lots of cranes and quail, and I could hear but not see lots of frogs. On my return I heard a coyote barking and howling. It was just like you'd imagine it, sound effect-style, with each cry a "Wuh-wuh-AROOOOOOO!"

Below you can see the horse stable on the way in, one of the many cranes, and a couple of photos of the sunset at the beach and on the trail. It's not a great photo, but I love the way the clouds are colored pink near the end of the sunset.







Friday I left for Tahoe to attempt to learn to ski with some old friends. I was oddly struck with altitude sickness when we got there and the first morning. Tahoe isn't even that high! Luckily I felt better in the fresh air and higher on the mountain (???). I don't know why. I really enjoyed skiing, though! It was blowing snow and sometimes ice but I had a great time! I didn't even fall once--that is, until I took off the skis and ate shit big time as I was walking into the building to catch the funicular. That put me right in my place. On the ground. I laughed like crazy.






It was too warm to ski on Sunday so we drove home early, stopping at Ikeda's on the way back (awesome burgers).

The next day was what must be my third last day of vacation and I got up early to bike to Tiburon and back with Shayla. It only took us 5 hours (haha). We thought we'd gone over 40 miles. We'd only gone 26. Sigh! It was a good ride though, not even hard.

We rode across the bridge and through Sausalito (that's the San Francisco skyline in the background)


through Mill Valley and the marsh to Tiburon, where we stopped at the Audobon sanctuary and mansion before taking the uphill trip back to San Francisco.



Legs, you treat me so well. Thank you.

ps New Year's in Disney

Indulgence and the California Coast

For some reason it's exciting and energizing to get up before dawn to travel. I drove back up to SF from Ventura, CA, this morning, and saw the sunrise over Santa Barbara.

After a long weekend of over-indulgence, during which THIS passed for a SANDWICH (note: that is not fried chicken. that is a fried ham/cheese/turkey sandwich sprinkled with powdered sugar and served with blackberry jam) (that is scary) (i ate that)

and THIS passed for a breakfast burrito (i ate that, too)

and the evenings were capped with cheesecake, churros, and cocktails that looked like THIS (i had two of these)

an empty stomach and a 7am sunrise were detoxifying and welcome.

I spent the weekend in Disneyland with my family for my mom's birthday (New Year's Eve), which was insanely crowded even though it was pouring rain, and ended the trip by seeing two friends in LA, Becca and Haylie. Haylie and I watched a movie called "Bliss" that featured such fantastic lines as "Tell me what you think about your penis." "I like it. It's large and powerful." and "I love myself three times a day!!!"

I drove home by myself and took a long detour to see Pinnacles National Monument. I didn't see much, since I barely got out of the car. I'll go back. Here's what I did see (there are rocks there):


New Year's Resolution: Leave work earlier to have time to do all of the things I've done in the last two weeks. i.e., actually living.