Rat's it's back

The rat came back to our garden after an almost 2 year long break. It looks slightly smaller, no longer so well-fed, and the tail bears proof of a trap.
He was standing outside our french doors, looking up at our BBQ as if trying to figure out how to kick start it.
I concluded, very calmly, that he was back, as Richard ran in to the garage looking for things to hit it with.
- Don't kill it, said Holly. Get rid of it, but just don't kill it.

I need to put out traps. Big, fat one's, for extra clever vermin.
I hate vermin.

Massive

Massive Attack at the Warfield yesterday was a great show, but it says something about your age when you only really enjoyed the three songs they played from albums older than -96, while all the young slackers took a break and ventured over to the bar for a drink-break.
Martina Topley Bird was and looked absolutely amazing, what a superstar she is!

Pearls of wisdom

One of my all time favorite quotes, comes from top soccer player Zlatan Ibarhimovic when asked how he thought Sweden would fare in a past World Cup:
"The ball is round and anything could happen."
I think about this little gem of wisdom almost every day. It is priceless. It helps me through the tough times. Anything can happen.
Today I heard a wall street intern state on NPR that "finance plays an important part in our economy". Chew on that one for a while. It is almost up there with Zlatan.

Unfortunately, I had to turn the radio off when another Wall Street exec said: "Wall Street plays a major role in our economy. When our economy stopped working - Wall Street stopped working."
That was a bit too much. Let's quit while we're ahead.

Mystery

This is a puzzle: someone unlocked our car, got in to our car yesterday, moved our cupholder and put in on our seat, took our ipod, then left the car and locked it again.
Either that or one of us are sleepwalking.

Big friendly cabs

"Big friendly cab" says the print on the back of the car, and then a phone number. I clock this just as he forces another car out of his lane which results in temporary confusion. The cab driver gives the other driver the finger and drives of in a huff.
Anyone want the phone number?

Small people in a big world

Call centers, I have to say, are someone's funny idea of painful torture. I have yet to come across a call center where you get to deal with your issues in a speedy, professional manner with help from knowledgeable customer service minded people who are not reading their line's from a manual.

Adobe - good example. Have all the best service's and offers in the world to entice their customer's, but can they deliver - oh no. Can they help you? Nope. Can they assist you in helping you do what it is that you need to do to get your order to you promptly? No.....
So after 50 minutes of my life that I will never get back - and I needed those minutes - I have decided that I am officially on strike!
Not sure how I go about it though. It's not like the call centers would care. They didn't care before, why would they care now........

Safeway, mon amour

Check out staff trying to be funny when you have a sulky eight year old and a screaming toddler does not make any sense to me.
Check out staff trying to be funny who are also singing Frank Sinatra songs never make any sense.
And if they try to engage screaming toddler in conversation while taking their good, slow time ringing up your dinner, making him scream even louder is just cause for a mental break-down.
When he hands me my receipt he looks at it and says: Thank you Richard - oh, haha, you're not Richard! Well, tell him I said 'Hi', haha.

I so wish I could laugh, but having to shop under these circumstances is simply too painful, and I have to get out of there as quick as I can.

Snub

Frances on 17th and Noe has only been open a few months, and it is not only hugely popular but it is also a fashionably small space. Richard has been trying to book a table without success for some time now. So it was to his delight that he landed himself a four-top in time for when our good friends from Stockholm are here. I have been going on about it a bit, excited to be able to treat them to a bit of true San Franciscan cuisine and atmosphere, etc, and since I am rubbish with remembering names, I have called it Flora's.
So last night they come back from a long day of walking, sight-seeing and dinner, they raved about this place they happened upon in Castro, a really nice restaurant where they got a seat at the bar. What was it called?
- France's.
- Oh, that's where we're going tomorrow.

They feel like they should be granted Green Cards now, after all, how much more honorary San Franciscan can you get, strolling straight in to France's and get seated right away, when their hosts have been trying to get a table for weeks?

One, and two, and three, and four makes - a whole lotta mess

I have been counted for the Census.
This was the jist of the conversation:

- What's your race?
- White European.
- Not hispanic?
- No.
- And your husband?
- Anglo-caribbean.
- Not hispanic?
- No...
- So that would make him...?
- .... Black?
- And your daughter?
- Mixed race? Bi racial?
- Not hispanic.
- No........
- And your son?
- Hispanic.
- He's hispanic?
- No. Sorry. I was joking. He's mixed race.
- So they are both mixed race?

What are you insinuating, my good man?

Iheartalembic

I am not one to moan too much (hmm...no, really), but I went to my fave hang out on Haight Street the other night (Yes, Alembic - where else) and couldn't get over the changes on the menu and the fact that three cocktails were off the list because they were out of spirits.
I am not a huge fan of bone marrow and veal sliders, but I do love sashimi - which I couldn't order because it as part of a fixed menu. Please, please, lovely Alembic - bring back sashimi and let me try the Queen of Diamonds. You won't get rid of me that easily.

Hanging on the letter-box

I haven't received many emails over the last few days and started to feel a little sad. No friends thinking of me, no one who wanted to write me a note to see how I was.
Then I remembered: I did a spring clean in my Inbox and un-subscribed to a whole load of spam, newsletters and marketing stuff that has accumulated over the years. This is what my Inbox is - minus the rubbish.
So Maria, start writing those emails again:).

Helen Fielding sums up California vs London in 12 easy steps.

My good friend in London sent this link today - it pretty much sums up everything I feel for both my previous city and my present state of residence.

Bunny

Going to Europe for the summer doesn't just mean fighting the ash cloud issue and extortionate air fairs, we also need to find room and board for our rabbit while we're away. My vet recommends a bunny-sitter and I call her to check out the rates. When I tell her how long we're going to be gone for she immediately sound suspicious.
- I need some kind of confirmation that you are coming back for the rabbit, and that you're not just leaving her with me for ever.
As nice as that thought is, it wouldn't go down well with Holly, the bunny's main protector in the family.
- We're coming back for her, I say. I can sign anything you'd like.
- That won't be necessary, she says. But you do need to take the rabbit to the vet prior on boarding, fro a clean bill of health. And provide food allowance, hay and pellets on top of the daily fee.

I've said it before: this rabbit turns out to be the most expensive thing we've ever bought.

Food cards to the people.

The college grad's and surfer dudes working at the check out at my local grocery store are a strange breed - very nice but living on a different planet.

To me, today, whilst ringing up my mozzarella and low fat milk:
- So, yeah, I was thinking.... like, there should be a debit card for like, I mean a card, for food. For people. Like, there should be a card, you know a food card for people who work so they can just go and get their food. And it should be free. That would be kind'a cool, yeah?

Smile and nod. Smile and nod.

Gorillaz feat. Little Dragon

A friend sent this to me this morning - please everyone: send me morning music - it's put's me in a really good mood, and my husband will be very happy!

Hard life

You need to be full-time stay at home in order to keep up with taking care of your life. On top of the yearly physical, you get your teeth cleaned twice a year. Then there is a mamogram, the smear, and god forbid should there be anything else wrong with you: the annual allergy and dermatology check-ups and so on.
(Add to that the health of your vehicle and your children's appointments, and you are running yourself a nice little corporation.)

Let me reiterate: those who have health-insurance keep busy. Those who aren't insured they live a nice stress-free life, don't they.... It's ironic.

What do you get when you put six ladies in their mid to late 30's around a table at Nihon Whiskey Lounge?
Very funny stories about saggy skin, grey pubic hairs and how to avoid camping with 20-somethings at Coachella by sleeping in a golf resort.
It's a sign of the times.
We are growing up.