Monday, February 20, 2006

Mmmmmmm....Sunday.






It's cold in my room. I am hovering over the space heater, listening to NPR's On the Media on KQED. They just did an interview with CSA's director.
This Confederate States of America sounds REALLY interesting.

Can't wait to see it.

The last 24 hours have given me mood adjustment.

Saturday morning I was still groggy from depression.

After my appointment I made a list of 8 items I needed to finish in 6 hours. The adrenaline of a list of things to do put me in high gear. I even made the decision to enjoy dinner with the crew in Fremont for O's brief return to pick up the rest of his gear.

Dude's really gone now.

Crazy.

Anyway, I zoomed to Oakland to get Pocky then over to San Francisco to pay back the loan and get some more for my Philly trip, and then I was on my way to get Joseph Schmidt Chocolates to send on his trip, because apparently there are no "real" chocolatiers in Phoenix.

For weather reasons I get this, but since chocolate has its origins in warm climes, I can't believe the descendents of the Aztecs haven't jumped on the chocolate hype. There is money to be made off vices, people. I am now a sucker for my spicy hot chocolate at Bittersweet, and I always poo-pooed people who had their regular 3 buck beverage...now I am as guilty and probably spend a dozen of my dollars a month on some fabulous chocolate beverage.

On my way from the Fast Cash Checking place in downtown San Francisco along Mission on my way to Joseph Schmidt, I was hit by a skiddish 16 year old from Sonoma County who had been waffling turning left into a one-way street. At the last moment she panicked and turned straight into me heading straight.

Poor Jane is now scraped along her driver's side in the back. We exchanged information. I remained calm. This girl impressed me with her lassaiz-faire nature about her car and when I said I would get an estimate she said that she didn't care the cost, but that her parents would pay for it off insurance.

She seemed like the kind of girl my students might end up despising. I smiled internally and thought...you are among the future leaders of America and your parents have armed you with...the security of having their money.

Great.

Jane was drivable, so I continued on to Joseph Schmidt. I had truffles to buy, dammit. But that little accident meant that I would not be burning O's CD. (Sorry man, "Ethnic Nipple, the Uhaul Addenda" will have to come another time.

I illegally parked on Sanchez near 14th? to shuffle along the wet sidewalk to the Joseph Schmidt chocolate shop. A beautifully coiffed man with a non-American accent asked me if I needed help.

He was a cafe au lait gent with a beautiful halo of a fro about his head. His air seemed Euro and his manner was just gentlemanly. Dreamy. And he was getting my chocolate order.

Dreamy.

I considered a pre-packed dozen, but then I was drawn to the display case. And I was drawn to the dark chocolates and chose a dozen lovely Barbie breast shaped mounds of chocolate and confection. Joseph Schmidt chocolate allows one to savor flavors in a creamy, intense truffles. The shell cracks and one's mouth is filled with the encased flavour. It is a palette pleaser, to be sure.

I shuffled to my car, fell out of my left sandal and bruised my heel with the wooden toe portion of the shoe.

OW! I was briefly barefoot and in total pain for a moment before refocusing...I needed to get to Berkeley in 30 minutes for my face appointment and the bridge was looking pretty crappy from what I saw.

I put on Energy 92.7 and I think Xavier's remake of George Benson's "Gimme the Night" was on. That tune offended me at first, but now it's grown on me and Jane and I rock with that clubby optimism when it's on. We sat in traffic and in fumes in her tank to the Elephant Pharmacy and well...we all can read how Tatalia hooked me up, covered up my spots, and made it so I could enjoy dinner with friends in Fremont.

Dinner in Fremont
Man, far be it from me to bring depression to a party when Solomon is picking me up and we're driving down together.

Sol's my homeslice. In friend parlance, I nickname him my boyfriend because he is just always there for me in that rare way men can be there for women without requiring sex. And yet he's always cool for being platonic date to events, should I need.
Besides, he picks me up in his little Miata convertible and that's pretty awesome.

We arrive at our destination and in Sol's crazy way we make donuts in the cul de sac twice before finally parking. Sol's crazy that way. I couldn't help but giggle.

We gather our things and ring the bell. Omer answer's the door and it's almost like he hasn't left.

The friends are all in the living room and the house is alive with conversation, friends connecting and catching up, O's mom and dad doting on us, music going...

It's all good.

Fruit chaat opens the evening...with extra spice in case we want more kick...and we spend the evening catching up, listening to stories, about 20 of us.

GOOD TIMES!

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