String unplugged for a bit...

She wrote, "...all the great diversity Vallejo has to offer."

From http://www.examiner.com/x-2336-Vallejo-Community-Examiner~y2009m2d4-The-second-coming--Great-thrift-store-find

This is The Thrift Center Thrift Store on Sonoma Blvd. in Vallejo. Yes, I think it's really called that. Practically half of my wardrobe is from there. The other almost half comes from the other thrift store of consequence, The Value Center, which is just around the corner, by car. I like both places quite a lot, but at this one I can speak either language with anyone who works there. And it's slightly more, um, affordable than the others. The Thrift Center Thrift Store actually have sales! The signs in the windows advertise that everything is an extra 30% off on Wednesdays and Saturdays and they make the same offer on holidays that fall on Mondays. I usually go on Sundays, and you know what? There's always a surprise -everything is 50% off!

In the years that I've been shopping there, it's never occurred to me to make a donation. On the other hand, I do donate to the Goodwill, but choose not to shop there very often because it's, um, overpriced.

I may not be making many donations there anymore, either, though. They've become very selective. So it wasn't surprising that they would not take the futon that my friend was trying to donate this weekend. However, the donation station attendant stated that the Thrift Center Thrift Store would accept it. We didn't make it to the Thrift Center on Sunday and the futon stayed in the truck until yesterday, when we tried jamming the whole thing into my Subaru, knowing it wouldn't really fit, but hoping it would. We pulled it all out, put the frame into the Subaru and crammed the mattress into her car. We pinky-swore never to get futons ever again, and that if either of us ever did, she couldn't ask the other to help her move it.

So if they're such pains in the ass to move, why not just leave it in the truck and drive that over to the Thrift Center Thrift Store?

Yeah, so anyway...

Before we left, I called to confirm that they hadn't changed the policy over the weekend and we could still drop it off. I also asked if we had to assemble it or if we could bring it in pieces. Both responses were favorable. When we pulled up to the back, I looked into the garage and slowly walked in. "Buenos dias," I started my explanation to the man working. As we were helping him load the frame onto the dolly he'd provided, a woman got out of one of the cars parked in the lot and inquired about the futon. Only...she wasn't asking about it for herself, but for the man who was still sitting in the passenger seat of her car because, "he didn't want to come out and talk." Eventually he did come out and actually talked quite a lot, inquiring about the futon's price, first to my friend, then to the manager who'd since come out to look at it and help load it. It turned a bit awkward: The potential buyer wanted to negotiate in the parking lot and the Thrift Center Thrift Store employees explained that they had to bring it inside first and process it. The buyer explained that he really did NOT want to have to go back to IKEA for a third time. Upon hearing this, he had my sympathies. I don't even like to go to IKEA a first time. My friend felt a bit torn, but had resolved to give it to the Thrift Center Thrift Store, as she'd offered it to them first and they'd helped unload it.

I selfishly felt a little bit relieved that it really had nothing to do with me, but hoped that all would work out for both parties, ending in a little harmony and cooperative spirit that would eventually spread through Vallejo.

The more I know, the farther I'll go? 13 july, 2009

I'd googled. "when to replace running shoes". I've had my current pair for less than a year, but the treads are showing wear and the tops of my feet sometimes have a little pain. The little foot pain went away when I replaced my last pair - red ones, with Gore-tex that I got for $80.00 at REI. I really have no idea how many miles a week a run.

I think it might be time to figure that out.

"Track your mileage. After 350-550 miles it's time for a new pair. For runners who log 25 miles per week replace your shoes every three to four months."

"However, most runners will likely find that maintaining an accurate running log will be one of the most useful tools for enabling them to determine when they need new running shoes."

"Wow, it's a signed copy!" 9 july, 2009

Too bad it's signed "Para Michael, por el gusto de tenerlo cerca" - Ángeles Mastretta

I think the story behind that dedicatoria might just be more interesting than the book itself.

I love Facebook...

...but I loved even more seeing faces face-to-face as I took in the 4th of July parade on Saturday.

More on Facebook to come.

"Would it make me a bad person to choose a design that wasn't designed by a child?"

5 July, 2009

The choice is yours. San Francisco Public Library now offers six library card designs including a new ecocard that is made from corn and is both renewable and biodegradable. (http://sfpl.lib.ca.us/news/newcards.htm)


Last week, Thursday, I didn't leave myself enough time to run across the Golden Gate bridge again, but I got to go to what is in my world an iqually, if not more important SF destination - the public library! And thanks to a good friend who knows this, I got a card.

I think it's because yesterday I stared up at that plate on the wall that says, "Éljen a haza" for a reallyreally long time.

4 July, 2009

It means something about the home or the homeland. I don't know who brought it back from a trip to that particular homeland of mine, but the plate has been around for more than 20 years. When I discovered that it broke in its move from Mexico, I glued it together and hung it in the downstairs hallway.

I was staring at the plate yesterday wondering exactly how to pronounce the phrase. And tonight as I was goofing on Facebook, the Do you understand any Hungarian? quiz came available. I love taking fun quizzes and couldn't resist this one, though I know that if anyone asked me "Do you understand any Hungarian?", I'd have to answer with the negative. I'd probably also be tempted to say something to show off that I know a little about the language. Like, "I thought Hungarians speak Magyar." Hopefully I'd realize that just like some speakers of Gaelic call it "Irish" in English, maybe some Magyars call the language Hungarian in English. Evidently, I would know. My results follow.

Valerie took the Do you understand any Hungarian? quiz and the result is You rock!

Wow, you're good! You seem to have been born with the gene that automatically decodes Hungarian. If you check your genome (whenever technology allows) check for the curliest chromosome. That's the one. You're a closet Hungarian - it's time to come out!

I'm still a little scared.

Tuesday, 29 June, 2009

Ran 43, Golden Gate Bridge

I'd thought about running across the Golden Gate Bridge off and on for the past two years, but just now realized that Tuesday was actually quite close to, if not the actual date I started running two years ago. So I guess it was a pretty good way to mark the day.

Last week I started running in the mornings, which I've never really liked. Somewhere between 18-22 minutes into the run, I'd get really bad cramps and it was an awful catch-22. I'd feel like I needed to get home as fast as I could, yet if I ran, it hurt too much. Slowing to a walk wasn't any better because of the urgency...My theory was that this time around, since I had a good 43 minute base, maybe it wouldn't happen. The first morning it did, but very the pain was mild, definitely run-throughable. The next few days were fine. In the mornings I find that I am a bit slower, and I don't feel as good during the run, but the temperature is nicer. Also, I feel energy coursing and zinging through my body for the rest of the day. That doesn't happen when I run in the afternoons. And (somewhat guiltily) I do admit that it's sometimes nice to have the run over with early.

Last week I'd made plans to have lunch in SF with a friend. I called Monday to ask if we were still on for "tomorrow". The "still on" part was fine, but the plan was actually for Thursday.* Part of the plan was for me to run across the bridge and meet right after because she knew I was so nervous about running across the bridge. Even though neither she nor anyone else would be there, I decided to stick with that part of my plan on Tuesday morning, not wanting to feel the trepidation about running on the bridge for another few days. Paradoxically, I also didn't really want anyone else to have to be around if I had some sort of chickening-out episode.

And so, tomorrow's Thursday and I'm going to stick with that original plan and try to run it again.

So, what was/am I scared of? Earthquake; a car swerving and (impossibly) breaking through the barrier; getting hit by a cyclist (commuter or tourist); getting otherwise injured; but mostly, being somehow suddenly tempted to jump off for no reason; just wussing out. Obviously, none of those things happened (and I sure hope they won't tomorrow!) and it was a pretty good run.

I drove over the bridge, parked on the south side, put 6 quarters in the meter (1 quarter = 15 minutes) and ran first toward Marin, in a bit of fog and cold. I was so scared for the first few minutes that I forgot that I was supposed to be in awe of where I was. But I also forgot to be miserable running in the morning. I relaxed a bit after about 9 minutes and realized that it was indeed a glorious place to be running, but not quite as romantic as I'd always imagined it. The noise from the cars was a distraction, as was wondering how much exhaust to breathe in was too much. I also realized that I was running on concrete, not asphalt and that I probably can't do that too often. When I got to the Vista Point on the Marin side, the old cramping started and I had to stop my watch and use the restroom. Twice. I didn't feel better until halfway or so through the trip back. Then the fog started lifting and the music that the iPod cued up got more motivating and the cramps eventually faded. The last few minutes of the run were actually embarrassingly cathartic...

Hoping that tomorrow's run is marked by less fear and no intermissions.

*I've been having calendar issues lately. Probably a topic for another blog.

Default Setting #13

Friday, 26 June, 2009

Escribo desde/I write from: La oficina around 11:00 after a long, busy day filled with an amazing assortment of interactions
El tiempo/Weather: Getting warmer inland, fortunate to escape to SF for the afternoon, still savoring yesterday's delicious evening there
Estoy luciendo/Wearing: Variety
Conmigo/With me: Steeeelllllaaaa!
Estado de animo/State of mind: Veryvery calm. Literatura salvífica, its words and its messages replacing others
Libro(s): Memoria de mis putas tristes, Cien años de soledad
Música: cumbias, Holly Golightly; and of course, Michael Jackson
Vi/I saw: new people over drawings, words, boards; the words of Sor Juana, consoling and apt though written in the XVI century, and with new applications for our own!
Hablé con/I spoke with: so many face-to-face; phone; chat; text; e-mail...
Antojo/Craving: ninguno/none
¿Qué pasó hoy?/What happened today?: Beautiful things eclipsing anything that wasn't
Animales: New puppy at work; Kayla being more affectionate
Personas: Showing and telling more similarities than differences in the way we live and love

The greatest of these. And of mine.

26 June, 2009

"Hombres necios", podemos ser también las mujeres.

25 June, 2009

I reproduce here Sor Juana's most well-known poem and below, its English translation. Of course, it's on my Reading list. I was too lazy just now to dig out the printed text of the poem so I thought I'd read it online. I found this site and I think that the translator, in choosing the adjective "silly", is a bit too easy on Sor Juana's intended audience. Other than that, it's actually an excellent translation! I wish I could find who did it, so I could credit her/him. The translation captures quite well the astute nun's ironic tone. Very little has changed since the siglo XVI in the sexual dynamic, though I think if it were to be written today, and a bit more honestly, the good sister couldn't really exempt a good many women from fitting into the category of necios. We can be just as hard on each other. But then, that too could be men's fault. Come to think of it, Jimmy Buffett recognizes this, in "Margaritaville" - one less hombre necio, then.

Hombres necios que acusáis
a la mujer sin razón,
sin ver que sois la ocasión
de lo mismo que culpáis:

si con ansia sin igual
solicitáis su desdén,
¿por qué quereis que obren bien
si las incitáis al mal?

Combatís su resistencia
y luego, con gravedad,
decís que fue liviandad
lo que hizo la diligencia.

Parecer quiere el denuedo
de vuestro parecer loco,
al niño que pone el coco
y luego le tiene miedo.

Queréis, con presunción necia,
hallar a la que buscáis,
para pretendida, Thais,
y en la posesión, Lucrecia

¿Qué humor puede ser más raro
que el que, falto de consejo,
el mismo empaña el espejo
y siente que no esté claro?

Con el favor y el desdén
tenéis condición igual,
quejándoos, si os tratan mal,
burlándoos, si os quieren bien.

Opinión, ninguna gana:
pues la que más se recata,
si no os admite, es ingrata,
y si os admite, es liviana

Siempre tan necios andáis
que, con desigual nivel,
a una culpáis por crüel
y a otra por fácil culpáis.

¿Pues cómo ha de estar templada
la que vuestro amor pretende,
si la que es ingrata, ofende,
y la que es fácil, enfada?

Mas, entre el enfado y pena
que vuestro gusto refiere,
bien haya la que no os quiere
y quejaos en hora buena.

Dan vuestras amantes penas
a sus libertades alas,
y después de hacerlas malas
las queréis hallar muy buenas.

¿Cuál mayor culpa ha tenido
en una pasión errada:
la que cae de rogada
o el que ruega de caído?

¿O cuál es más de culpar,
aunque cualquiera mal haga:
la que peca por la paga
o el que paga por pecar?

Pues ¿para quée os espantáis
de la culpa que tenéis?
Queredlas cual las hacéis
o hacedlas cual las buscáis.

Dejad de solicitar,
y después, con más razón,
acusaréis la afición
de la que os fuere a rogar.

Bien con muchas armas fundo
que lidia vuestra arrogancia,
pues en promesa e instancia
juntáis diablo, carne y mundo.



Silly, you men-so very adept
at wrongly faulting womankind,
not seeing you're alone to blame
for faults you plant in woman's mind.

After you've won by urgent plea
the right to tarnish her good name,
you still expect her to behave—
you, that coaxed her into shame.

You batter her resistance down
and then, all righteousness, proclaim
that feminine frivolity,
not your persistence, is to blame.

When it comes to bravely posturing,
your witlessness must take the prize:
you're the child that makes a bogeyman,
and then recoils in fear and cries.

Presumptuous beyond belief,
you'd have the woman you pursue
be Thais when you're courting her,
Lucretia once she falls to you.

For plain default of common sense,
could any action be so queer
as oneself to cloud the mirror,
then complain that it's not clear?

Whether you're favored or disdained,
nothing can leave you satisfied.
You whimper if you're turned away,
you sneer if you've been gratified.

With you, no woman can hope to score;
whichever way, she's bound to lose;
spurning you, she's ungrateful—
succumbing, you call her lewd.

Your folly is always the same:
you apply a single rule
to the one you accuse of looseness
and the one you brand as cruel.

What happy mean could there be
for the woman who catches your eye,
if, unresponsive, she offends,
yet whose complaisance you decry?

Still, whether it's torment or anger—
and both ways you've yourselves to blame—
God bless the woman who won't have you,
no matter how loud you complain.

It's your persistent entreaties
that change her from timid to bold.
Having made her thereby naughty,
you would have her good as gold.

So where does the greater guilt lie
for a passion that should not be:
with the man who pleads out of baseness
or the woman debased by his plea?

Or which is more to be blamed—
though both will have cause for chagrin:
the woman who sins for money
or the man who pays money to sin?

So why are you men all so stunned
at the thought you're all guilty alike?
Either like them for what you've made them
or make of them what you can like.

If you'd give up pursuing them,
you'd discover, without a doubt,
you've a stronger case to make
against those who seek you out.

I well know what powerful arms
you wield in pressing for evil:
your arrogance is allied
with the world, the flesh, and the devil!

If weather conditions are just right, a truly effective cumbia will convince you that you're a passenger on a 3rd class bus as it sways gracefully dow

24 June, 2009