Take it from the bridge

I actually had this requested of me for the first time last weekend. I recorded my voice over demo in LA and I was somehow brave enough to include a snippet of 'song style vocals'. I wrote parody lyrics to "My Favorite Things". It went a little somethin' like this:

New shoes and ice cream and yard sales and cocktails
Long baths and handbags and good times with gal pals
Men who will bow as I walk down the street
These are a few of my favorite things.
When my job sucks
When my date's late
When I break a nail
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel insane.

You know you're in the Bay Area

when you see a bumper sticker that reads 'Home Sweet Homebirth'.

I love the community that is Craigslist. I really do. Monday I was on the bus on my way to class, and I sat across from a really cute boy. I felt myself turn red and I had to hold back the giggles. I tried not to stare, but the glancing was uncontrollable. I stepped off the bus with my friend and I mocked fanning myself, exclaiming he was a hottie. I then turned red again when I noticed the bus hadn't pulled away. He caught my gesture and was laughing at me. Okay with me. I went to Craigslist the next day to post a Missed Connection, but there was already one there for me! We chatted briefly Tuesday night and we’re going to meet up this weekend. Could it be…My first date in almost five months?!!

All in one day

I learned that I should not assume the following: that my co-worker has the perfect marriage, that a friend of mine would never accept a happy ending to her massage at an upscale day spa, and that a co-worker who has been a lesbian for 30 years would ever never be diggin' the dick again.

We've All Made Mistakes

Ahhhhhh, puberty.



Did I ever mention I dated a Mofia head?



I didn't have the quintessential horror of a prom dress. However it WAS horrifying when my date's ex of four years arrived in the same dress.



I got at least 4 inches with this baby.

Johnny Knoxville and George Clooney have the same sexy voice. Just thought I'd share.

I don't know what was more shocking: hearing E.U.'s "Doin' da butt" in 2006 or the girl singing it referring to me as that 'lady' when she heard me laughing out loud. I still feel 12, how can I be seen as a 'lady'?

Spying on Humanity

Friday August 11th - 8:30am - Montgomery Bart station platform

I observed a man in his late thirties, appeared to be Latin, wearing brown slacks, a striped button down shirt and sunglasses. He slightly resembled Johnny Depp. He had a goatee that was split in two and braided with two white beads on the ends.
I could use this look on stage when trying to portray a dressed down Jack Sparrow.

Spying on Humanity

Thursday August 3rd - 9:30am - Montgomery Bart station platform

A fifty-something man with long gray hair tied back in a ponytail reaches around, grabs his ponytail, puts the bottom three or four inches in his mouth, and munches on it with his lips covering his teeth. For a very long time.
I could use these characteristics on stage when playing someone with no couth.

Observations

In my high school drama class, our teacher would assign weekly observations. We'd stand in front of the class and state who/what/when/where we observed a person doing something noteworthy, and how we would use those characteristics on stage. I'm bringing observations back. They'll be called Spying on Humanity.

This may be old, but it's new to me.

Arguing on the internet is like the Special Olympics; you might win but you're still retarded.

"Bjork's daughter is playing in my bouncy house, my bouncy house"

100 kids, 2 bouncy houses and a pony was too much for little Isadora to pass up. So as the happy family walked by our celebration in Golden Gate Park Saturday, Bjork and Matthew's offspring made a mad dash for some fun. I was in the smaller of the bouncy houses (watching the kids for safety's sake of course) when my friend walked over and whispered through the netting, "Don't look now, but Bjork is here and her daughter is coming into the bouncy house". I discreetly looked out onto the lawn and sure enough, there she was with her hubby, watching their little munchkin jump and squeal.

A-list kiddie parties. This is how I roll, y'all.

I was in my grammy's favorite restaurant, the Moonlight, when I overheard two young girls talking.
Blonde: How old are you?
Brunette:19.
Blonde: Wow, I didn't realize you were that old.
Brunette: I'm not THAT old.
Blonde: What?! I didn't say you were like 30 or something.

Young at Heart

Last night I was making goo goo eyes at this cute guy on Bart. I was delighted when he struck up conversation but I was dejected when I learned he's 19 frickin' years old. He said he thought I was about 23. Now I'm confident I look youthful for my age, but by 10 years?! God bless him for the compliment; I'll take it!

Read between the lines

I am officially Wells Fargo's bitch. But it's good. Tons of great perks and I like who I work with; just an adjustment not being a free agent anymore. My boss asked me to write a little blurb about myself that she can use in a 'New Team Member Accouncement' thing.
Reese [who hails from the quintessential white-trash upbringing and a background in video stores and surf shops] fled from Virginia to California in 1998 where she rocked the commercial real estate world [and tolerated the belligerence and chauvinism of the middle-aged white man] as a Revenue Coordinator for Grubb and Ellis until 2002. She then applied her outstanding project management skills to the Interior Designer circuit for two years [catering to the whims of spoiled coke addicts] as an Office Manager/Expeditor. She came to us almost two years ago after spending six months traveling to Hawaii and throughout Europe [blowing a small inheritance while chasing a man around the globe].

Bay to Breakers 2006

I saw the biggest penis of my life. Yeah yeah yeah, it was a warm sunny day, I spent it with good friends, I saw tons of creative costumes yadda yadda yadda. A huge, beautiful penis I said. My memory is a little 'fuzzy' but I'm told I jumped up and down with glee and then bowed at his girlfriend's feet. Come on! It was 8am and I was already drunk on scotch!

Pix here. Unfortunately none of the penis.

My friend and I have a running joke about Pearl Necklaces. I wrote this today. To be sung to the tune of "If you're happy and you know it".

When your neck is feeling flaky scratch it off. When your neck is seeming sticky wipe it off. When your collar's looking oozy and you're feeling like a floozy, when your clavicle is pasty he got off!

Well my relationship with Banana Man may not have progressed but my cubicle decor, aka The Banana Shrine, has taken on a life all its own. It all started with exhibit A. After Banana Man visited our office, I pinned the message that was wrapped around the banana he gave me as a memento of his cuteness. Plus I was the one who requested the cheesy message and it made me laugh. Next up exhibit B. One of my co-workers drew a cute little sketch from a comment her boyfriend made in the car one day; "The banana eater in the RAV4 heads to the West". It was random yet related, and I LOVED it. Exhibit C is the Fruitguys newsletter that came in our fruit basket the day before the big date. Every week the owner spotlights a different fruit and this one was coincidentally all about bananas. D was a standard thank you card given to me with one little embellishment added for my benefit. It looked right at home next to the sketch. I found exhibit E two days after our date, stuck to a dvd that a friend returned. The pink side is supposed to depict me meditating, with a caption that reads, "I heart big bananas"! The blue side is obviously the giant walking fruit exclaiming, "I found the woman of my dreams"! Exhibit F came from a friend, long after all hope of a second date was gone, but was applicable nonetheless. It's an excerpt from a box of hair color instructions stating, "If your highlighted/lightened hair is: Pale Yellow (like the inside of a banana) or Yellow (like the outside of a banana)...I've been coloring my hair for 18 years and I have never seen a manufacturer acknowledging the association between blond hair color and bananas before; it had to be included. And the latest addition, exhibit G, came after a visit to Starbucks with a friend, when I was feeling slightly dejected over being blown off by a man who wears a banana suit, and the new Summer display was all about the new Banana Frappuccino. I grumbled and pointed at the chalkboard indicating my annoyance AND interest in taking a picture of it, when I looked over and saw a pad of 'Take One' flyers that would work just as well.
How long can we keep this going?!

I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I hate whining I HATE WHINING

I sure can pick 'em!

Man oh man, you go out on one date with a guy who wears a banana suit and you get bombarded with a bunch of banana references. "Be careful, he bruises easily". "He's cute, don't let him slip away". "Do you find him appealing"? "This IS San Francisco, it figures you'd find a fruit". I've gotten emails with links to this and this, and my myspace comments seem to have a theme.
The date was great. And if I don't hear from him, at the very least I finally had my first pleasant dating experience in about 10 months!

Yellow Fever

Never before has a man wore a banana costume with such appeal. Contact The Fruitguys and you too can be visited by a super handsome, giant walking banana.

Rock Star in Training

I've been asked to sing back up for a friend's band. It's going to take a lot of practice, but I'm thrilled beyond words! The gig is in late July; I'll post details when I have them.

I look like WHAT?!

This is amusing. Google the phrase "(Your name) looks like" and find the best one from the first page of results. Don't forget to put it in quotes, otherwise it won't work.

My favorite was "Reese looks like a cross between a cartoon duckling and a revolutionary Bolshevik". But here were a few other ticklers:

"Reese looks like she has bad breath".

"Reese looks like a pimp".

"Reese looks like a normal person, not a silly Barbie".

"Reese looks like she wants to devour Jack".

"Reese looks like your average 7th grader".

For Fuck's Sake why don't people just answer the question that's been asked. I will worry about the next step, priority, method, and everything else that comes after the simple one-word answer I'm looking for!

V for Vendetta

is fantastic. I highly recommend seeing it on the IMAX. Just sit far enough back that you're not turning your head from left to right to see all of the screen!

You Learn Something New Every Day

And today I learned a little bit about press checks. Not only should I be inspecting the quality and integrity of the images that we're having printed, but I should also be confirming that the vendor is using the proper paper stock. I'm damn lucky that WF isn't taking my $7,000 mistake out of my check!

Alcoholoroscopes

ARIES
Drinking style: Impulsive Aries people like to party and sometimes don't know when to call it a night. Their competitive streak makes them prone to closing-time shot contests. They're sloppy, fun drunks, and they get mighty flirty after a couple tipples. Getting Aries people drunk is a good way to get what you want out of them, should other methods fail. Aries can become bellicose when blotto, but they will assume that whatever happened should be forgiven (if not forgotten) by sunrise. They can be counted on to do the same for you -- so long as you haven't gone and done anything really horrible to them last night, you sneaky Gemini.

TAURUS
Drinking style: Taurus prefers to drink at a leisurely pace, aiming for a mellow glow rather than a full-on zonk. Since a truly intoxicated Taurus is a one-person stampede, the kind of bull-in-a-china-shop inebriate who spills red wine on white carpets and tells fart jokes to employers, the preference for wining and dining (or Bud and buddies) to body shots and barfing is quite fortunate for the rest of us. This is not to say that the Bull is by any means a teetotaler -- god, no. A squiffy Taurus will get, er, gregarious (full of loudmouth soup, some would say) and is extremely amusing to drag to a karaoke bar when intoxicated.

GEMINI
Drinking style: Gemini's can drink without changing their behavior much-- they're so naturally chatty and short-attention-spanned that it's just hard to tell sometimes. They can amaze you by conversing with finesse and allusion, then doing something unbelievable in an extremely advanced state of intoxication, like puking in your shoe. Gemini's possess the magic ability to flirt successfully (and uninfuriatingly, which is very tricky) with several people at once. They like to order different cocktails every round -- repetition is boring -- and may create a theme (like yellow drinks: beer, sauvignon blanc and limoncello) for their own amusement.

CANCER
Drinking style: Cancer is a comfort drinker -- and an extra wine with dinner or an after-work beer or six can be extra comforting, can't it, Cancer darling? Like fellow water signs Scorpio and Pisces, Crabs must guard against lushery. Cancers are brilliant at ferreting out secret parties and insinuating themselves on VIP lists -- and, in true Hollywood style, Cancers are never really drunk; instead, they get "tired and emotional" (read: weepy when lubricated). But there's nothing better than swapping stories (and spit) over a few bottles of inky red wine with your favorite Cancer. Even your second-favorite Cancer will do. The sign also rules the flavor vanilla, and you'd be adored if you served up a vanilla vodka and soda.

LEO
Drinking style: Leo likes to drink and dance -- they're often fabulous dancers, and usually pretty good drinkers as well, losing their commanding dignity and turning kittenish. Of course, they're quite aware they're darling - Leos will be Leos, after all. They generally know their limit, probably because they loathe losing self-control. When they get over-refreshed, expect flirting to ensue -- and perhaps not with the one who brought them. But Leo's not the type to break rules even when drunk, so just try to ignore it (try harder, Cancer) and expect a sheepish (and hung over) Lion to make it up to you the next day.

VIRGO
Drinking style: Cerebral Virgos are compelled to impose order onto their bender. Their famously fussy quest for purity could lead to drinking less than other signs, sure -- but it could also lead to drinking booze neat, to sucking down organic wine or just to brand loyalty. They rarely get fully shellacked -- but, oh, when they do! Virgo's controlled by the intellect, but there's an unbridled beast lurking within, and they let it loose when walloped. It's dead sexy (and surprisingly unsloppy). As one Virgo friend used to declare, "I'm going to drink myself into a low level of intelligence tonight." A toast to the subgenius IQ!

LIBRA
Drinking style: "I'm just a social drinker," slurs Libra, "it's just that I'm so damn social." Libra loves nothing more than to party, mingle and relate to everyone. Whether dipped in favor of Good Libra (with Insta-Friend device set to "on") or heavier on the Evil Libra side (they are little instigators when bored), the Scales can really work a room. Charming as they are, Libras are notoriously lacking in self-control, however, which can get them into all sorts of trouble -- including wearing their wobbly boots waaaay too early in the evening, flirting with their best friend's beau or even blacking out the night's events entirely.Oops!

SCORPIO
Drinking style: Don't ever tell Scorpios they've had enough, for they'll smirk at you and quietly but intentionally keep tippling till they're hog-whimpering drunk, out of 100-proof spite. Scorpios like to drink, and screw you if you have a problem with that. Most of them see the sauce as something to savor in itself, and not as a personality-altering tool - though if depressed, self-loathing Scorps seek total obliteration. But generally, they're fascinating drinking pals, brilliant conversationalists and dizzying flirts.They also remember everything -- especially what you did when you were blitzed. Only drink with a Scorpio who likes you.

SAGITTARIUS
Drinking style: In vino veritas -- and, for Sagittarius, in booze blurtiness: When buttered, they'll spill all your secrets and many of their own. Tactlessness aside, Sagittarius is just plain fun to drink with. This is a sign of serious partying (what else would you expect from the sign of Sinatra, Keith Richards, the Bush twins and Anna Nicole Smith?). They're the people who chat up everyone in the room, then persuade the entire crowd to travel somewhere else -- like a nightclub, or a playground, or Cancun. Good-natured hi-jinks are sure to ensue (including a high possibility of loopy groping; spontaneous Sag is a brilliant booty call).

CAPRICORN
Drinking style: Capricorn is usually described as practical,steadfast, money-hungry and status-thirsty -- no wonder they get left off the astrological cocktail-party list. But this is the sign of David Bowie and Annie Lennox, not to mention Elvis. Capricorn is the true rock star: independent, powerful and seriously charismatic, not too eager to please. And if they make money being themselves, who are you to quibble? But just like most rock stars, they're either totally on or totally off, and they generally need a little social lubricant to loosen up and enjoy the after party, especially if they can hook up with a cute groupie.

AQUARIUS
Drinking style: Aquarius and drinking don't go together that well (except for water, that is). They have an innate tendency toward know-it-allism, and if they get an idea while sizzled, they're more stubborn than a stain or a stone. If they're throwing a party or organizing an outing, however, they're too preoccupied with their duties to get combative and they make perfectly charming drunks in that case. Fortunately, they're usually capital drink-nursers. They also make the best designated drivers (if you can get them before they start raising their wrist) Aquarius is fascinated by drunk people and capable of holding interesting conversations with soused strangers while sober.

PISCES
Drinking style: If you're a Pisces, you've probably already heard that you share a sign and an addictive personality -- with Liz Taylor, Liza Minelli and Kurt Cobain. Not only do Pisces like to lose themselves in the dreamy, out-there feeling that only hooch can give, but they build up a mighty tolerance fast. Who needs an expensive date like that? On the other hand, they're fabulously enchanting partners, whether in conversation or in crime. With the right Pisces, you can start out sharing a pitcher of margaritas and wind up in bed together for days. The phrase "addictive personality" can be read two ways you know.

I heart USAA

If you have any affiliation with the military, sign up for every USAA service you can. You can find out if you're eligible on their site. I just got a whole year of renter's insurance, covering me up to $31,000 (including earthquake!), for $200! I also signed up for free checking and savings and when I say free, I mean free. You can use any ATM in the world and USAA won't charge you a fee, and at the end of the month USAA will refund you any ATM fees that you had to agree to to use another bank's ATM! Christ, I sound like Tom going nuts about Katie!

It's one in the morning. Do you know who's searching for you?

I can't remember for the life of me who got me started on myspace, but DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

Because of a huge circumstantial SNAFU Friday night, I wound up missing the boat back to Oakland. I had to stay with someone I don't know very well, and when I walked into his house at 3:30 in the morning, my drug dealer from six years ago was sitting on his sofa. Aaahhhh, it all comes full circle doesn't it folks?

"Are you there Margaret? It's me, Reese"

This seems to be happening lately when I go out for a big night of drinking; I find a new name and number in my cell phone and I have no recollection of who it is. It typically turns out to be a friend's info but when I'm tipsy and punching on the keypad, the spelling is compromised; I'm not a dexterous texter. I don't get so drunk that I have blackouts (often), but of course there are snippets of conversations that I'm reminded of later that had escaped me. This weekend I found "Mag" in my phone. I was too chicken to call it, so a friend did it for me and the voicemail is for a Margaret. I have NO idea!

I wish you all the best JB. But if you change your mind...

Happiness

is when your friend's toddler learns to say your name.

We're going here, and then here. You in?

Soooooooo High!!!

Sunday morning wigglng at The End Up! I love you Dirthertz!! No really, I love you!!

10) Giving the guy at the door of the Cat Club my admission, only to
learn he was just a guy sitting by the door (Luckily he was honest)

9) The guy in the vinyl goth jacket and eyeliner. Hello? Yes it's
1982, they want their look back

8) The aspiring exotic dancer practicing against the mirrored walls

7) Emily's crawlin' on the floor dance moves (and rallying after being
in her jammies)

6) Colleen's sage wisdom on virtue in the cab

5) Richard's ability to continue to take photos after 6 hours of drinking

4) Ali's colorful parade of dancing partners

3) Having a girl who is out with her boyfriend tell me I that can be
her Lipstick Girl for the night

2) After talking for two minutes, a gay guy telling Robin that he went
down on a girl for the first time recently and "It tasted like
chicken"

1) Getting asked out by a tranny

photographic evidence

Thursday night is ON!!

A little artsy fartsy First Thursday, public humiliation at The Mint, and partying like it's 1999 at the Kat Club for 80's night. Join us. Won't you?

A quick note from Peru

I will never take toilet paper, running water or electricity for granted again.

Several weeks ago I finally admitted to my worry-wart grandma that I had been sick for a while but wasn't sure what is was. She said, "You know it could be that change". "What change"?, I asked, but knowing full well what she was getting at. "That change of life" she explained. Leave it to my cute little grandma to confuse bronchitis-like symtoms in a 32 year-old as menopause.

I'm going to Peru for New Years! I'm going to Peru for New Years!

I got stuck sitting next to the nail biter on Bart this morning. Christ man, here's twenty bucks, it's called a manicure!

Okay, someone tell me there's a weird planetary alignment thing going on because I started my period that day I went in for a root canal (which cost me a good portion of my travel fund), and then I lost my wallet the next day. Guess it can only get better eh?

god DAMN it!

I have to spend $2,000 of my travel fund to a root canal and a crown. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I have the money to get the work done, but it's so hard not to be bitter knowing it's taking away from my world travels.

Time Out

I just had the most amazingly restorative weekend. Apart from a jaunt to the grocery store, I spent three solid days in my house. I fasted which felt great, I cleaned, rearranged, organized, updated, read, napped, and reflected. I got so much done but it still felt like a little vacation. How lucky am I that I am so unencumbered, that I was able to check out for three days without my world falling apart.

So I’ve been a little unsettled lately having found out last weekend that My Ex/My Neighbor has a new girlfriend. Yes it’s been ten months since we broke up, and no I wasn’t even in love with him, but this is the first time I’ve tried to remain friends with someone who I was so intimate with, (not to mention the first time a man has ever gotten to know me so well) and it feels strange thinking of him with someone else. Of course I’m happy for him as my friend, he’s a fantastic guy and it’s great that he’s found someone, but I can’t help but be a little jealous because I’d like to have someone too. And not just anyone. I could have someone if I just wanted someone. Now that I’ve experienced a ‘serious’ relationship, I know that I like it; that I’d like to have it again with the right person.

On the flip side, I just had to tell someone who I’ve been spending time with that I didn’t want to take it to the next level. The look on his face was devastating. This guy was incredible too. He was funny, smart, handsome, thoughtful, a real character. But if there’s no spark, there’s no spark. I’m not going to lead someone on just to have someone to spend time with.

I asked My Ex/My Neighbor what his advice was for me to handle this maturely and be okay with it. If the situation were reversed I can see him being all stoic and polite, he’s not very forthcoming with emotion. He said he didn’t think that he’d be mature and okay with it right away if it were the other way around. That made me feel a little better. And my close friends assure me that my reaction is normal but man it stinks. Thankfully I’m not so insecure that I’m focusing on the new girlfriend specifically. Of course I’m curious about what she looks like and how they met, and if she’s more like me or more like him, but that has more to do with knowing him than feeling threatened or catty. I guess there’s my maturity. I just need to retrain my brain into thinking about him as any other platonic guy friend I have. It’s difficult though, on a day like today, we usually walk to work together on Mondays, and I hear his car pulling in around 7:30 in the morning, so I know as we’re walking to BART that he was just in bed with her. But I don’t want to distance myself so much that it becomes weird and we never recover; he’s a good friend and we have too many mutual friends.

I know from experience it’s just going to take time. I also know from experience that patience is still a mystery to me. Guess there’s no better time to learn.

A co-worker who I joke with constantly make a crack about me not wanting to lift a finger to do any work. I told her I had a finger that would be no problem to lift at all! Good times.

It is such a mind fuck when your face feels swollen from novocaine but when you see yourself in the mirror you look normal.

I talked to my little brother last night! First time in three months. He didn't want to talk at first, but when I told him to give the phone to our sister, theeeeeeen he wanted to chat. He was about to go see the Herbie movie and he was pretty excited. He had just seen a 3-D movie and claimed it was 'awesome'. He's having an okay summer, I sure wish I could nab him and let him stay with me until September. I told him to draw me a picture or write me a letter to give to our brother so he can give it to me when he comes to visit next week so hopefully he'll feel like it. Man I hope I don't have to go three more months again.

What am I 16?

I got drunk and sang karaoke at an office party last night. Need I say more? Ahhhh yes, there's more. How about the fact that the party was actually held in the office, and I don't remember leaving, or how I got home from the Bart station. And I've saved the best for last; I got sick on Bart and had to puke in my backpack. I'm sure I was soooooo discreet.

It figures on a day at work when I'm going to be busy non-stop, and trying to time manage down to the minute, that a co-woker would bring in a bouquet of the one flower I freaking allergic to. Yes, a headache is exactly what I needed to complete my day.

"If we want to be the best, we have to have the best. Missy's the poo. So take a big whiff"
- Torrance Shipman in Bring It On

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Days like today, I swear to God a hysterectomy sounds like a fucking dream. Last month my period was a week late so I wound up with two weeks of PMS, and now this month I've got symptoms over a week early. I hope like hell Aunt Flow comes early because I won't have any friends left if I have to fell this hormone surge much longer. My boobs are so sore, they ache when I'm sitting still! And I don't have jugs people, ta-tas at best! The world is sandpaper and I'm going to SCREAM!!!!!!

Reese Squared

Yesterday I had lunch with Reese Williams. No, I didn't sit in a cafe all by myself, I actually met another Reese Williams. He's a he, and he lives in Hawaii. He emailed me last year when he tried to buy the domain reesewilliams.com and found my site. We've corresponded sporatically since, and while he's in town for a few weeks we decided to finally get together. He seems like a great guy, and now I'm cool enough to have a friend with the same name!

Va Bene!

I started my new Italian class last night and it rocks! Only 10 students in the class and my teacher is hilarious. Plus I'm taking it with a friend so I have a built in study buddy. Augurimi la fortuna!

Don't look down, don't look down!

So I went to Harbin Hot Springs for the first time last weekend. Uhhhh, okay. The setting is beautiful, and while I love the idea of an Earth loving, all-natural hippie commune, the reality of it was crunchier than stale Grape-Nuts. I enjoyed myself much more when I just wandered about through trails alone and napped at our campsite; I didn't much dig the pool areas. I'm not a prude and I'm not modest, but the number of foreign peni was overwhelming. One of the hot tubs was so overcrowded and luke warm that I dubbed it 'People Soup'. I just don't trust a hot tub that's not hot enough to kill everything if you know what I mean. I was also faced with a sight that I've trying my whole life to avoid; red pubic hair. I can't explain it but men with red hair have always made me feel a little unsettled and the idea of seeing their private region was more than I cold bear, but Sunday afternoon a red head was bearing all at the cafe and I came face to groin with his burning bush. Cripes, orange pubes, ick! Over all it was nice to be in the woods, play in the creek and spend two days with good friends.

Hell if I know!

I have a friend coming to visit in a couple of weeks and we're going to a Giant's game. Last night on the phone she asked who the Giant's would be playing and I said I thought I remembered from the online schedule that it was the Kansas City Chiefs. I'm sure you already know that it would probably be pretty difficult for a football team to compete against a baseball team.

Good Times

Here are some photos from Friday night, a friend's birthday celebration at Medjool. This place is so slinky and hip, I love it. And the food was stellar, I can't wait to go back!

Shut Up! Shutup Shutup Shutup Shutup Shutup SHUT UP!!!

I just realized what exactly it is about cell phones that make me want to kick users in the shin real hard. First, here are a few reasons I was already fed-up with public yammering.

Could it be any ruder to continue your conversation with Cathy Babbles-a-Lot on the phone even while interacting with friendly counter people? We complain that customer service has gone down the crapper and then we show so little respect to those serving us, we don't even give them our full attention for less than five minutes. No one wants to hear about your boring day of endless meetings because, you just said it, THEY'RE BORING, and if they're boring to sit through, that's right Einstein, it's even worse hearing about them involuntarily!

And how fucking dangerous is it giving the person blabbering in your ear about what's-his-name more attention than cars and pedestrians on the road while driving? I can't count the number of times a car has rolled into a crosswalk, swerved into my lane or just blown through and intersection all together, and as I pass I see there's a shitty piece of plastic infused to their goddamn heads. And don't even try to tell me ear buds make a difference. If your attention is on the conversation, it's not on the road.

And finally, if I have to be audibly bullied by your gossipy conversations while confined on a bus or BART, I just wish I could hear BOTH sides of the conversation. Who? Who? Who did they catch her with in the laundry room with? And what is he keeping from her until after their vacation? Inquiring minds want to know! At least with a couple of loud talkers you can pass the time by eavesdropping.

But it dawned on me today what the real irritation is for me; that people are filling the air with their hollow words and generating useless energy. I know that thought alone is a powerful thing and people are emanating an energy whether they're shouting about tonight's dinner plans or not, but sound carries and resonates, and most conversations I hear could SURELY wait until they got their asses home. And yes, it's a given that when you're in public you subject yourself to the myriad of lives converging in close proximity, but at least before people thought they couldn't spend a single minute alone with themselves and decided to use every spare moment chatting idly about absofuckinglutely NOTHING, you could walk down the street with your own thoughts, observing, embracing or rejecting the kaleidoscope of energy swirling around in close proximity.

Now I'm just forced to listen to, "Well I want to talk to you about something else as well but I'm not really comfortable discussing it on a crowded bus", hee-hee-hee laugh, giggle, snicker. No, no, no, don't hang-up now! You're just getting to the good stuff. I just had to sit through fifteen minutes of little Billy's throw up incident, and how great you though Blade 3 was. Please, please, please at least carry on about something that will satisfy my impertinent little mind. Although impertinent is highly debatable when someone is screeching about their dope new, car-stealing, prostitute-killing video game at the top of their lungs in a 30 square foot space.

And I don't feel hypocritical at all admitting that I am a cell phone owner. I have no objection to the concept at all. I have mine for emergencies, coordinating rendezvous, my lonely grandma in Illinois, and the painfully rare possibility that I might get the chance to talk to my nine year-old brother who lives in Virginia. The most you'll hear from me is a hushed, "I'm out of the tunnel, pick me up at BART", or a non-intrusive, "I'll call you back in a minute, I love you Grandma". But most usage I encounter appears to be a pathetic crutch. I mean, it's not like it can be a status symbol anymore, everyone has one. Hang-up and listen to the birds. Listen to the rhythm of traffic. Smile at passers-by. Slow down and absorb your surroundings or get lost in thought. But stop bumping into people because you’re so engrossed in a selfish monologue. Just shut UP already!

Place your bets!

I swear my body chemistry is a Crap shoot. Some nights I can drink enough to kill a small child and still act like I have some sense, and other nights, yes, like last night, I have one drink and I'm pawing everyone like the town whore. I don't mind being a bit giddy and flirty, but I was slurring and losing my balance for Christ's sake.

I started off at a small Cinco de Mayo house party with my friend Melody where we ate killer tacos and wacked a pinata. Then I headed over to Levende Lounge where I was a Dance-a-thoner at a fundraiser for Room to Read. Rumor has it we raised $10,000! That's going to send four girls to school from kindergarten through high school.

Doing Good Feels Good! Bending over when you have a hang-over does not feel good.

Originally uploaded by qr.

It won't be long and this little guy will be flying away all on his own

A co-worker told me the printer was giving an error message regarding the trickle bottle. I mistakenly relayed the message as 'the tickle box needed servicing'. Well mine does at least!

A Day in the Park

It's pure punishment that I was volunteered by my boss to entertain/baby sit the kids who are going to be in our office this afternoon for the "Bring your kids to work day" the day after a big company event that involved scotch and beer. "Pipe down kid, your Auntie Reese is hung. Now be a good little girl and go fetch me a pack of menthols and some Tums. What do I look like an adult? Just because I'm taller than you doesn't mean I'm more Reeseponsible, now move, I gotta go find a toilet"! (this was part of an email exchange I had with a friend today when discussing my pain)

I took four boys to a park in the middle of downtown San Francisco at one in the afternoon. Age six five, and two that are 3 and a half. It didn't hit me until we got to the park that they only knew me as Bouncy Girl (a nickname one of their Moms, my boss's boss, gave me). I didn't bother correcting them; the less they know the better. They were pretty unruly and my baby fever has officially recessed into the negative.

Sono Italiano

Ever since I met my biological father just over a year ago and learned that I may be part Italian and Native American, I've been trying to get some relative's names to do research. I'd love to have an Italian passport youknowwhatI'msaying. Well it hasn't been easy. Tom (bio-dad) has had major computer issues so he doesn't get to email as much as he wants, and he's had the wrong phone number for me for the past four months. And apparently the person in the family who would have the information is getting old and her memory isn't so good. I figured I'd have to go to courthouses in Illinois and start with Tom's name and work my way back, but yesterday when I got home from work, there was an email from Tom with names! So one of my Great-Grandmothers was Natalia Bonn from Austria, and my Great-Grandfather was Antonio Turra! Tom said his Aunt who gave him the names might even have an original copy of their marriage license! That makes it so much easier to locate birth certificates. This is a fantastic lead, but I do have another obstacle. I have to look into proving Tom as my father since he's not on my birth certificate. Ah well, good thing I love investigating.

Kids really do say the darndest things...

I was sitting in the back seat with my friend's sons Jazzmo (6) and Shoogie (2) when Jazzmo started a play on words that eventually made it's way to BOOBY. He bgan staring at my chest and as he had his finger up his nose he queried "You don't even got boobies do you"?

An A for Effort

Saturday night at a charity party at the DNA Lounge, with the worst music EVER, Abby and I gave a valiant effort to dance and mingle anyway. I spotted a guy who I had flirted with at the Jell-O wrestling party a while back. I wasn't terribly attracted to his face, but his body was amazing however, Eloise just told me was only 23, and watching him dance on stage like it was MTV's Spring Break, I was getting the impression he certainly acted his age.

So at one point he's standing next to me and he starts talking to me and I remind him that we've already met and he starts to fill in the blanks. "Oh yeah, but you wore your cowboy hat all night, you changed your hair, or I guess your hair was like this just under the hat. You're lucky I like short hair". Oh well thank GOD! I was beginning to think I was going to die an old maid because I decided to strip myself of my 'femininity'. I AM lucky you came along! Jockstrap.

All in all I had fun laughing and chatting with Abby and Eloise and a couple of guy pals of hers. I'm glad Abby wouldn't let me stay in my comfortable shell on the sidelines. Who in the world would have thought I could be a wallflower, but the longer I go without a date the more removed I feel. I'm going through a little bitter phase at the moment. But thanks to Abby I did have two great revelations last night: one is that I may not be flirting as much as I used to, but it's because I don't have the need for men to show interest if I'm not interested. And two, I need someone who is my social equal. Not class, but outgoingness. My last boyfriend was very sweet and funny in private, but I love men who are sociable and playful in public.

Regina's Top Five from the Orkut Party:

5) My two self-insights

4) Making Abby laugh hysterically in the bathroom because I knew all the words to Freaks of the Industry by Digital Underground

3) Being "Lucky" enough to run into "Mick" again

2) Talking my way into the club b/c we weren't on the list

1) Witnessing Abby's brief lesbianesque interlude on the dancefloor

Bonus: The gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, gay, GAY paid dancers

It's a Boy!

Hell it could be a girl, I don't know. Manu's four little eggs hatched but right now they're just tiny fuzzy blobs with the occasional beak poking out. Once they take shape I'll post photos.

Wednesday I learned that my sister in-law and niece are attending a wedding in Napa on the 30th of this month, and so they’re staying with me until the 2nd! I'm thrilled to play host to my new-found family, but does anyone know how badly timed this is? The new season of The Family Guy premiers Sunday night at 9pm. "Yeaaaaaah, I know you came all the way out here from Illinois and all, but I have to go watch cartoons with my friends". And I can't really invite them along. There are acts involved in The Family Guy ritual that severely Christian Midwest in-laws just don't need to be a part of. EVER! And then there's the show itself! Despite my personal view, I doubt others would be so amused if my very well behaved six year-old niece went back to little old Collinsville exclaiming, "Damn it to the bloody bowels of hell"! after a visit with Auntie Reese.

Hubba Hubba

This is going to seem entirely too SATC even for me, but....

Think back to the greatest lover you've ever had. Not like "Oh honey, making love makes me feel closer to you", but wild, raw, adventurous, no inhibitions, role playing, bed breaking, S&M, doing it in public places, what was your name again fuckfests!

Every person that I've spoken to about this, single or in a relationship, male or female have all said that the best lovers they've ever had were no more than that; just sex. Not an S.O., not even their spouses. Can we only allow ourselves to be freaks in the bedroom when there's no commitment? Or are there certain gifted people who are just mind-blowing lovers whether they're available or spoken for and so now our rockin' ex-lover's husbands and wives are enjoying an eternity of thrills, chills, squeals and rug-burn?

My latest and greatest fav cut-down: asshat

Nature Up Close

Originally uploaded by qr.

Manu has laid an egg every morning this week except for today. I've been afraid that the high winds would blow the window open and then she'd lose her little babies-to-be, but the nook seems to be fairly protected.

I spy with my little eye.....

The Birds and the Bees

Originally uploaded by qr.

I'm so excited! I'm going to play host to another nest of baby birds this year. Last year I noticed a couple of twigs in the space that my open bathroom window creates before I left for Kauai in April, and when I came back a week later, there was a full-on nest with five tiny pale blue eggs. Two weeks after that they hatched and I got to watch them grow from itty-bitty weak-necked featherless things to strong, loud little boogers. I even got to see two of them take their first flight leaving the nest! I woke this morning to Manu (Hawaiian for bird) chirping much louder than usual. When I went into the bathroom she didn't budge from the nest which she's never done before; she always flutters away immediately. I had a feeling she may be laying an egg, and finally an hour later she flew away exposing a cute little blue speckled egg. I'm looking forward to seeing how many she lays this time and how often. I'll keep posting pix of her progress.

Big Congrats to Bri in Phoenix on her new job. She just gave notice three weeks after her company offered her a promotion, (after they considered offering it to someone her jr. that SHE trained, and had the effrontery to tell her so), denied her salary request, revoked the offer all together insisting it had nothing to do with asking for more money (and not a whole lot of it I might add), and THEN offered to match what she'll be making at her new job to persuade her to stay (which is coincidentally exactly what she has requested when the promotion was offered to her)! Damn, those suckers don't know what they lettin' go!

Would anyone think less of me if I applied to be a model?

Golly Jeepers!

I wasn't even stoned...

and I laughed so hard at this, I peed just a little bit.

Can You Come Out and Play?!

Originally uploaded by qr.

Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad

Ain't no joke....

I have a wisdom tooth coming in and it hurts like a motherfucker.

Peaches-Fatherfucker

Pick it up now or you are a lame-ass

It's always a good idea to check the back side of your recycled scratch paper that you scribble a note on and give to a co-worker

Well this year's taxes are certainly going to be the death of me. I just got a $5,700 tax bill. I can make payments to Uncle Sam but damn Sam!

Never Never Never

make goo-goo eyes and use your feminine wiles to lure a man you've never seen beofre into your proximity when he's wearing sunglasses! I've learned this lesson before. Once when I was 21 in Virginia at the beach, and once again here in SF with a cab driver. Why oh why must a sexy pair of sunglasses mask a crucial element of one's appeal? You know what it was that distracted me this time? The cleft. I'm beginning to grow incredibly fond of clefts! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, nostrils and clefts, my my isn't she discerning?!

Spring Has Sprung

I juat got a gorgeous flower ararngement from The Rockstar and Vixen today for Spring! I'm so lucky/blessed/loved right now!

I finally got to talk to my littlest bro today! It was only for about five minutes before the tyranical psychopath made him hang-up, but he's doing alright. I reassured him that when he turned sixteen we were going to do everything in our power to get him emancipated and free from the beast. Just about six more years to go. A good friend reminded me today that the best thing I can do is show him that someone happy and productive cares about him and thinks he's special, that he matters. Sure wish I had had someone on the sidelines rooting for me when I was under her lack of care. Ah well, I turned out okay right? Well, functional at least!

My Tribe

I'm a member of tribe.net and this is the testimony for me that one of my oldest and dearest friends has submitted.

Reese is such a loving, kind and caring person. I'm proud to call her my sister! She goes to church every Sunday and loves Jesus with all of her heart. Nope, you won't find any faults or naughty sins with this good christian I tell ya'. Oh yeah, she knits the best gosh darn sweaters that you've ever seen!!

We love you Reese!

Fuck What Jesus Would Do.
It's all about "What Would Reese Do?"

Integrity

You know a woman is a good friend when she won't wear the shirt you left over her house because she knows you haven't even worn it yet.

We're much more like everyone around us than we think. Or are we?

Preface: So this week has been a little odd to say the least. Abby, Eloise and I keep running into faces from a lifetime ago past. Sometimes getting away with pretending we didn't see the person, other times being forced into uncomfortable small talk and nauseating physical contact.

So it's midnight and I'm on BART on my way home from St. Paddy's day celebration with the girls, I’m deliriously tired, dangerously hungry, and stone cold sober. The car I'm in is quite until two white girls with blonde hair in their 30's come barreling in from the next car evidently the complete opposite of stone cold sober. They're loudly remarking about how this car smells like weed when one girl notices the bicycle leaned against the seat across from her and says "Damn, that's a nice bike. That's like the bike from Friday". The owner of the bike, a once sleeping Mexican man raises his head as if to ask "What"? She asks "Have you ever seen the movie Friday? That's like the bike in Friday. Okay besides the fact that you're Mexican have you ever seen the movie Friday"? Now I'm hoping I just didn't hear the part when he said "I'm Mexican" because otherwise I apologize on behalf of all white girls everywhere because we don't all lack couth. Before I know it the second set of staggeringly drunk white girls dragging a red-faced boy tromp into the car; only these two are significantly younger, significantly louder, and are wearing significantly less clothing with significantly more showing.

The immediately migrate towards the established drunk white chicks and the new duo promptly sits on the floor in front of the seated girls while the boy sits three seats away alone and closes his eyes. The girls bond over how much they’ve all had to drink tonight, and one of the younger girls begins talking and doesn’t stop for the next twenty minutes straight. This girl's voice and manner of speaking were so nerve grating- okay so take any over-the-top, stereotypical impression of a valley girl that you’ve heard, exaggerate it by a million times, and then double it. She’s going on and on and on and on when I start listening in…“Oh my god I just ran into my ex-boyfriend in that car can you believe it?! That is so random! I mean how random is that! This has been a really strange night. Week really”. One of the other girls clarifies “So the guy you came in here with isn’t your boyfriend”? “No, he's like my best friend we’ve been best friends for like five years I mean we dated for like three weeks five years ago but now we’re totally best friends”. Then she leans in and whispers something into her listener’s ear. I tune her out, go back to listening to Lemonjelly on my ipod and then I tune in again. “I mean, you really have to know yourself and love yourself before you can expect someone else to really love you. I mean, I know it’s easier said than does but it’s just a fact”. I begin to let go of my judgments. Okay. So she’s got a juvenile manner of speaking, and yes she’s drinking straight Absolute from a 7-Up bottle on public transportation, but I can identify with having a “strange week”. And she’s self-aware. She’s learned a valuable lesson of life and relationships, and she’s come to this realization a heck of a lot younger than most women I know. One of the seated girls points to and asks about the ring on her finger. “Oh my boyfriend gave it to me. I know it totally looks like a wedding band but he makes me wear it. He wants boys to think I’m married because I can’t be faithful. I’ve never been able to be happy with just one man. There’s been no one man who could satisfy me and I don’t just mean like sex but I need a lot of attention you know one of those girls who’s Daddy was never around blah blah blah I totally get it and everything but it doesn’t help just knowing you know? So I have to pretty much lie and tell my boyfriend that I’m staying in and then I sneak out go party but I haven’t been out without him in like year, in May it will be a year, so this is a special night Wooooo-Hooooo”! The other girl lays it down. She slurs to her, “Okay, so I don’t want to get all preachy on you, but lose this (points to the ring) lose the boyfriend, and just allow yourself to have the kind of fun you want to have. I mean, you can go shopping, and lust after all the shoes in the sore, and try on a bunch of different beautiful shoes, but sometimes It’s nice just to window shop, you don’t gotta take ‘em all home”! The younger girl giggles, “Oh my GOD I am so glad I ran into you you’re like my guardian angel”. Then it was my stop and I got off.

I wrote to my Italian penpal catching him up on my latest goings-ons. I sent it off and then for kicks dumped it into Babelfish for translation. This is how bad it was:

A lot amusing! They are not lazy! Enough opposite. Last end week I beacon from baby-sitter, lottery body of Jello and eaten the lunch with Seas and Jackson. I have received to To on my last examination, but e' to become incredibly diffucult. There and of the summer programs? I hope call Roma/La Tuscany in September. Until after time

I'm the only person I know who could fall in love with a boy on the second floor of the building across the street while I'm supposed to be engaged in a 10 person meeting.

Evidence of my Jello wrestling

Another reason I want to work for Google, on-site laundry facilities!

Beware the Ides of March

I woke this morning to a response email from Canada. I emailed yesterday inquiring about the state of his affairs and while he's still ambiguous, I'm disappointed. Guess I was hoping for more than I was trying to tell myself. Ah well, I don't need to read an entire book to get the message "He's just not that into you". Next!

I'm gonna wash that Jello right outta my hair!

I know I said I wasn't going to consume alcohol until March 20th, but when a friend sends you an email about an invite only warehouse party thrown by someone young, rich and fabulous, complete with open bar and Jello wrestling, you promptly jump feet first off the wagon into tight jeans and tiny snug wife-beater over a skimpy bikini, a cowboy hat and L.A. style sunglasses just like two of your best gal pals, and the three of you will carry around a bottle of expensive liquor and you will call yourselves Team Tequila flirting unabashedly and eventually you will wind up in your bikini in front of 600 plus people in an inflatable pool filled knee deep with green Jello wiggling and writhing with your opponent and then promptly leave afterwards to remove the goo hiding out in crevices. My life is good stuff right now folks!

Fee Fee I love you!

I babysat tonight and boy did I get lucky, she was delightful. She's eight months old, and only got mildly fussy when she started to get sleepy. We played with her toys on the floor, we went for a nice walk around the neighborhood, she entertained herself mostly and then she finally conked out in my bed. This itty bitty yet super chubby little person curled up in the middle of my bed on a pile of blankets; I was overwhelmed. It really dawned on me that when you have a baby of your own, you're always around it. I mean, I can say that I love kids and that I'm completely comfortable with them, and that my body has baby fever, but your life as you know it is over. Not necessarily in a bad way, just polar opposite. Is anyone ever really prepared for that?

Some days I think that the longer I'm single and the more my single-type behavior and lifestyle is engrained into my being, that I may seriously not want to make that sacrifice. Other days I know that all of the things I enjoy as an individual are replaced with amazing experiences that are shared with Mommy and baby.

I've been doing well in my Italian class, enough to keep up in class and remember it for quizes, but it doesn't feel like any of it is sticking to be used in regular conversation. Until today when a friend told me she didn't bring a pen or a piece if paper to play Boggle with during lunch on the roof-top garden, and I instinctually told her in Italian that I had an extra she could borrow. Benissimo!

To Minna we will go, to Minna we will go. Hi Ho the Derrio, to Minna we will go! I HAD planned on staying in and getting some stuff around the house, but Your Sovereign Leader got a big ol' fat A on her Italian quiz and that's cause for celebration!

So Far So Good

Just so everyone knows, I'm not drinking for the next few weeks, until March 20th. I've been to two social engagements this week without any social lubricant and it's been just dandy. At a friend's surprise birthday party I could definitely tell by the end of the evening that I wasn't on the same page as everyone else, but I had a great time. And last night I went to Teatro ZinZanni and although it would have been nice to induge, especially in an opulent and decadent setting, I stuck to Evian and enjoyed myself all the same. Given my history with hooch, I'm glad this isn't presenting a challenge. My body needs the break.

I've pinpointed the source of my blues. I've been reading a Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius for my book club and it's painfully reminding me that I haven't talked to my little brother since Christmas and I miss him terribly. Since my mother doesn't answer her phone or give him my letters, my sister is supposed to call me when she spends time with him; but she doesn't. Sometimes I feel like living my life for me is the best thing I can do for him because I'm setting a good example. And other times, when I go months without hearing his sweet little voice, I want to abandon my entire life on the West Coast to be near him. But I probably wouldn't see him any more than I do now because of the tyranical psychopath that has control over him. I can't send him money because she'll spend it. I don't want to send him toys because he gets bored with them so quickly, he is only nine after all. So I write him letters and send them to my sister's house, hoping that they reach him. Everyone cross your fingers that I'll make contact soon.

I've woken up painfully sad today for absolutely no apparent reason. I checked my cycle. Nope. Thought about my diet over the last few days. That's not it. It's 11:30 and I've cried twice. There's no aggro, no irritation, just heavy-hearted blues. I'm productive, I don't feel lazy, just melancholy.

HAPPY 30TH MR. GIBSON!

You're one of us now.