Drunk Midgets

"Look at them. They're like little drunken midgets."

--Reid, while watching a toddler take some wobbly steps

Dr. Ben!

I'm so so proud of my brother!

This past weekend he wore an eight-pointed hat and officially became an M.D. as he graduated from med school in upstate New York. I had a few teary moments. Not only did he graduate, but he also got a mess of awards, including a medal I made him wear in photos.

His fiancee and her parents, and our two sets of parents, all converged from Utah and California to be there with him, messily, as our parents aren't exactly on speaking terms, or being-in-the-same-room terms, but they did okay. (I asked them both to play nice in advance, and we had a refrain for the weekend: It's been 12 years, people!!!)

The weekend involved the ceremonies, but also, as happens when you get family together, a lot of eating. A LOT of eating.

Ulla and Sara, my brother's future mother-in-law and fiancee. (Trip #1 to Stella's eatery, right after I got off my redeye and found out my luggage was lost.)

Karen, my stepmom, and Dad (Trip #2 to Stella's eatery)

The real start to the eating frenzy was the Dinosaur BBQ, a biker bar, and our waistlines only expanded from there.

An appropriate sign

Saturday was the awards ceremony and we got to see my brother's friend become commissioned as a Navy doctor, too. It is a big deal and an extremely honorable thing to do, with a massive commitment. All of the graduates being commissioned had to officially sign a document after the ceremony, somewhat un-ceremoniously, and for the most part they were a little pale.

A doctor officer and a doctor gentleman.

Receiving one of his many awards.

Commissioning.


Ben, Mom, and stepdad Brett

Drs. Bert, or Dr. Berts

Later on we got to eat more, this time Italian. My brother's future mother-in-law, Ulla, is from Gothenburg, the town I went to in Sweden. I adore her. We were sitting at a round table and she made everyone do a group hug around the table. And then another one.



Classic squinty eyes. He looks a lot like my uncle when he smiles.

My brother feeding his pigeons--screeching babies and a brown adult.
I was a little freaked out by the pigeon thing until I realized that these have been my brother's balcony companions through long days of studying alone, and then I felt happy that they were there. But I still don't like pigeons very much.


The eight-pointed hat.

My dad hooding my brother at his graduation. They ceremoniously passed leatherman knives in honor of my uncle and kissed each other on the lips. The auditorium made the "awww" sound.

Since my parents don't get along, this is as close to a group shot as we got all weekend, which I actually think is extremely hilarious.

Me making my brother wear his medal for a photo.

Trip to Green Lakes the next day. The water had an amazing color.

Ice unsafe, keep off

Passed out at the end of the weekend.

Just kidding. But I felt like I'd run a marathon by the time I got back.


Benjamin, I just want you to know that I am so proud of you. When you were up on stage, I couldn't have been happier. I felt like I was up there with you.

Robert regards the sunset with contempt

On Wednesday I went out with an old friend/fellow ad mercenary to Cha Cha Cha's.

I went to a fancy party

I went to a big party last week to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the agency I currently work for. It was held at the San Francisco Opera House and was a black-tie event.

True to the advertising industry, people got hammered. But not before we had a chance to really enjoy ourselves and our fancy clothes. 

We danced, went to the hospital, took prom photos, and at one point there was a man making ferret noises up on the stage.  I kid you not.

And, they had mini desserts! I sense a trend...

Did you know that the Opera House has a hospital wing?  Of course we had to give that a whirl.



Gavin
Me n my cubemate, Kevin, information architect


mini cream puffs!
When you get all snazzed up your hair has to be equally snazzy.

The Coast

When I lived in Boulder and told people I didn't like it, I was met with disbelief.

"But you love hiking!" they'd say.

And I do love hiking. But I can hike in the Bay Area year round, solo, without worrying about being trapped in a freak snow storm.

And the views, the beautiful views of the ocean that can be around every turn if you so wish, easily knock out the views of towns and land horizons that you might get in Boulder (if you hike high enough).

When I first drove back to San Francisco from Colorado I could practically see the ocean in the future ahead of me. I missed it with a deep ache. And when I finally saw it again it gave me that swelling feeling that you get in your chest when something suddenly feels very right.

On Sunday morning I woke up needing to see the ocean from the broadest possible vantage, where you look out on the horizon and feel that you can see the curvature of the earth. I drove out early and took the Coastal Trail from Muir Beach to Tennessee Valley Beach, and all along the way this is what I saw:




The trail follows the coast all the way to Mexico, according to signs on the path.

The part I walked on is nearly a cliff, with fissures here and there, where if the earth is damp you could potentially slide all the way down the face to the waves breaking below.

I'm so glad to be back here.

A Healthy Bite

Like many meat-eaters, I have a baseless aversion to tofu, but this dish is surprisingly tasty and I've made it again and again.

Slice up firm tofu, sprinkle with chopped chives, and drizzle soy sauce on top.

A Series of Creepy

At an early hour Saturday morning Reid, Whitney, and I all went to the Maker Faire, an indescribable hodgepodge event showcasing the works of burning man artists, creepy crafters, inventors, hobbyists, cervix scopers, and steampunks.

It had a creepiness about it. It was the kind that can only come from throwing together a bunch of people who usually hole themselves up alone at home who suddenly must share with others what they do, holed up at home. You'd think they'd never seen a woman before. I was creeped out.

creepy sculptures

not so creepy bike lights in creepy room

creepy steampunk house with two-headed lamb

not so creepy motorized cupcake covered with oversized prozac (however, it was secretly creepy as the guy had his baby barely peeking out from the opening in the cupcake--not visible here)

creepy giant sculpture with eye that looked at you

not so creepy art car


But I got a pretty cool electronics kit out of the fair to teach me how to play with LEDs. Yay.

The creepiness was added to by the fact that Reid had shaved his beard into a pervy mustache for the weekend. That was creepy on its own. I unintentionally managed to take some pretty creepy pictures of him by the by.



That last one was the creepiest, at a creepy restaurant with dirty menus. But the mustache is gone now and my clean-shaven boyfriend has returned and it's almost like I haven't seen him in a long time, a funny but good feeling.

On Sunday I tried to avoid the creepiness by staying away from the Weird Street Festival but ended up walking around the city for hours, landing at the Wave Organ, one of the creepier locations in San Francisco. Built from the stones of a demolished graveyard, inhabited by rats, oddly Dr. Seuss-esque (not that Dr. Seuss is creepy, he's not), the wave organ is at the tip of a tiny finger of a peninsula extending from the Marina harbor into the bay. It has great views of Alcatraz and the Marina. But it's creepy and lonely as hell.

Thankfully, the creepiness was contained by the weekend, maybe even started by the weekend as Friday night we walked in darkness on Baker Beach after waiting in the trees for the cop to close the gates, all the while feeling like something was going to jump out at us.