In prep for actually getting off my comedic ass and hosting a show in a couple of weeks (That’s right, folks, Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday, Jan. 29, come on down), I figured I’d check out the room. It’s a pub (in the most sterile sense of the word) on the first floor of a center meant for students of a graduate persuasion. It was better than I had hoped, really.

Anyway, it reminded me of the cheapest reason I like the stand up. Or I like standing up, I guess. It’s the quasi-legit excuse to talk with strangers. So, I said “hi” to a couple of comedian folks I know. Not truly stranger chat, but that nice warm fuzzy non-commital “friend” with air quotes acquaintanceship fun. I imagine a lot of people go to church for that same sort of social intercourse. But, those relative strangers or graduated to a bit less than friend, which is pretty much everyone and anyone associated with the show and the bar putting on the show, are not the strangers I mean.

You see, if I might be so bold to throw in a meaningless phrase like “you see,” I am a bit of a flirt. Not a girlie-girl flirt. I fear I have never twirled my hair in the company of men, for example. More of the social discourse, Noel Coward/Truman Capote, look at me and love me kind of story-telling flirt.

In the back of the room, just observing the show and then leaving, I got my positive reinforcement. Two young men, the kind of men who at almost midnight on a Tuesday night, somewhere in American on a college campus, are very slowly and carefully articulating their words to cleverly discuss a tongue made awkward by the cheap, campus-subsidized beer. They wanted to know who I was voting for in the upcoming election. I amused myself by replying with salty language and obnoxious discourse unbecoming to my age and gender (but, of course, being my usual speech).

Surprisingly, the buddy of the one in the USMC sweatshirt with the super-short, possibly some kind of mandatory haircut let on the jarhead boy uses “liberal” as an insult. Really, a potential future marine standing on the campus of a major player in the military industrial complex fancies himself conservative? The dickens you say.

They asked if I was a student and wouldn’t believe my vehement insistence that I hadn’t been one in many, many years, in fact so many I could have been their mom. Ah, the kindness of moonlight.

When I said I was coming back, the taller, more earnest one (the non-jarhead coifed) is hoping I will come back having read some Ken Wilber. No doubt for a long philosophical discussion into the wee hours or some kind of hopeful bullshit.

I said goodnight and walked away and remembered why comedy cracks me the fuck up.

Technorati Tags: California, comedy, puppy, Stanford

A top of the day and a tip of my hat to Roger. Roger, sitting somewhere off in the fine state of Alaska that’s on my short list of places to visit before I die, did a google.com images search and unfortunately for him discovered one of my photos, labeled by me, a certifiable moron.

I love taking shots of nature thingies, like crawling, flying, creeping, walking, trotting, scampering things. I thumb through field guides and search shit on the internet. But, California and the west are like foreign countries. I just don’t know the flora, fauna or even the fucking language. (Although, I love the expression “hella,” which the natives say.) Between my eyesight and ignorance, I real should just say “bunny” or “ruminant,” because I just don’t know what shit is.

Enter Roger and his unsatisfying search. He ended up here on this dark hole of a website. His comment:

Those are NOT condors. They are Turkey Vultures.

I stand duly corrected and edified. And, sadly, I must say I’m chuckling to myself. Is it me, or does he sound angry? I sure as hell hope he’s a teacher or parent to set things right.

Technorati Tags: photos, images, snow, vultures

Playing with computers very much today. I’m getting a kick out of Baratunde’s Clinton Attacks on Obama wiki, mentioned here, possibly adding an air of legitimacy.

I’m biting my nails and wringing my hands and starting to yank out a few strands of hair over here. If Hillary keeps the undercurrent of negative shit (with the finesse of probable deniability, naturally), I see nothing good coming out of it. If she wins, it’s a personal gain at the expense of the party (which I think is supposed to get all unified and shit to win the presidency. I mean last I checked that was the goal.) If she loses, she’s laid a nice foundation for the GOP machinery to Swiftboat the shit out of Obama.

If I wanted an eat your own, win at all costs president, I would have voted for GW at least once. Hopeless, I know, but can we go back to some pre-Bill and pre-Rove kind of old-fashioned, old school campaigning without the throat-cutting nastiness?

Back to the world of computers, I’m obsessing on the possibility of technology. Sick. As usual, I lugged my laptop on my shoulder when I headed back to Boston. (Pretty much, if I don’t have instant access to a computer and at least one or three gadgets at arms length, I start to hyperventilate into a full-blown panic attack.) By the time I landed back at San Francisco airport I was just tired of the dead weight.

(How the fuck do people have children who need to be carried everywhere for like years after birth? I love my computer and that was 5-6 pounds of annoying after a while and it doesn’t cry or shit.)

We’re facing the 11+ hours to land in Tokyo, followed by the 7-8 hours to Singapore, so I’ll needs me some computing, I think. On top of that, we’ll be gone during Super Tuesday, so I’ll be looking for a CNN.com fix to my political junkie sick. Twenty hours back and forth and two weeks on the ground, I can’t imagine not having my ‘puter. I’m dreading the 5-pounds of connection digging into my shoulder and crowding out my extra bottle of water jamming up against my toes for thousands and thousands of miles, though.

Rumor has it all over the intertubes that Steve Jobs will be bringing out an ultraportable laptop at half the weight. How fucking awesome would that be? How much greater would that be if it were available with a quick swipe of plastic BEFORE I get on a jet again?

Technorati Tags: 2008_Campaign, campaign, Campaign 2008, comedy, elections, Hillary_Clinton, Politics, primaries, Apple, ultraportable, Silicon valley

Maybe I mean envy. I don’t know. How am I supposed to know what words mean.

Anyway, M. bought us tickets to see Joe Rogan tonight. (Incidentally, he might be one comedian destined to bring M. and me together, what with his love for the UFC and my love/hate for comedy.) Before that we met up with some friends for dinner. If I wasn’t a gigantic pussy or un-fucking-believably cool, I would have walked up to his table and said “hi” and shit when Joe, along with the other guys in the show, was sitting and eating dinner at the very same restaurant where we were eating.

It’s very likely we know some of the same folks and all, due to that comedy thing. Whatever. I will always work under the assumption that people aren’t really missing out if they miss out on a quick inane convo with me. (Why I should ever do it with a microphone is a question for another night.)

All of the above is beside the point.

The point is the comedy club was Cobb’s, which is in North Beach. North Beach is the part of San Francisco where strip joints slam against Italian restaurants, and both are haunted by the spirit of the Beats, who are now relegated to history and tourists. But, I love walking by the neon bright lights of “girls girls girls” all aglitter with themes like Larry Flynt’s Hustler club and the historic Hungry I (albeit historical for non-nude reasons). What I love best is the hustle from the doormen out front trying to get the foot trade walking by to come in for a spell.

We walked by the Hungry I, and there were a few guys working the door and checking IDs. I watched as a young guy walked by alone and got the street rap to come inside. I watched a young couple walk by unmolested. And, I swear to fucking god almighty that as M. and I eased up the stretch of asphalt sidewalk heading to the club, one of the guys smiling and joking said to another guy, “I’ll take her if you talk to ‘Tokyo.'”

Sadly, they let us walk by.

I love the rap, the hustle so much, but it ain’t never directed at me. Chubby, little, middle-aged, straight and female as I am. I’m not the target demographic.

At another club, as we walked by a friendly doorman chummily put his hand on a young man’s shoulder and stage whispered, “We got two girls and a dildo, man. You got to see it.”

Technorati Tags: California, Strip_clubs, comedy, Joe_Rogan, San Francisco

Back from the dead of my sadness, and by sadness I mean my writing ability and devotion, I’m starting the new year live in in person. I won’t just be showing up for this show, I”ll be hosting the mother.

On Tuesday, January 29, which just might be it’s own kind of Super Fucking Tuesday, I’ll be at the 750 Pub on Stanford’s campus. Looking to be a great show (more about the show and it’s organizers), and if you don’t dig me and my comedy stylings there is more talent. Come checkout W. Kamau Bell headlining with Albert Vallejo, Eric Miller, Mike AK Akay and Patrick Goodwin.

Come on down, that’s:
January 29, a rocking Tuesday night (‘cuz only pussies wait for the weekend)
9 – 11 p.m. right here in Pacific Standard Time
750 Pub
(1st floor of the GCC at 750 Escondido Rd, Stanford, CA 94305)

I’ll be doing my funniest impression of a pathetic, widely spreading, middle-aged white chick. Oh, fucking wait, that ain’t acting.

Speaking of pathetic, middle-aged white chicks (yeah segue), what the fuck is up with Hillary?

I get her point, I think, about action and whatnot and the need for enacting shit not just talking about it. But, do you really want to line it up to put Lyndon Johnson as the go to guy over MLK. Really? Do you? Really? Like we should think of Lyndon B. and vote for Hillary? Really?

Technorati Tags: 2008_Campaign, Lyndon_Johnson, campaign, Campaign 2008, elections, Hillary_Clinton, comedy, 750_pub, Stanford, W._Kamau_Bell, Alberto_Vallejo, Politics, primaries

Watched the debates last night. Hoo boy, another Saturday night and we rocked it hard.

For Hillary, it’s becoming a question of credulity, methinks. I do think she can do the job. She’d be competent, if not blazing and super charismatic and intelligent like her partner. And, surely Bill would be tossing in a few cents along with some advisors from his administration.

But, why, oh fucking why, does she have to oversell and overplay to the point where incredulous is the nicest word I can come up with for my feelings? I mean, come the fuck on, 35 years of experience? Well, yeah, undoubtedly you’ve been doing shit while living on the planet, but are you fucking telling me, Hillary Rodham, that your lawyering at the age of 25 is your groundwork for becoming the leader of the free world? And, I guess by extension, because and only because you are older than the other kids on the dais, you got more done?

(With almost a full month on living on the planet over Bill Richardson (born November 15, 1947), Hillary (born October 26, 1947) clearly has a vast wealth of greater experience as a “change agent.”)

I’m just not buying that angle, probably because I’ve interviewed too many job candidates and/or worked in non-profits for too fucking long. I mean, it’s great that Hillary was working for the Children’s Defense Fund back in the day, a couple years after it was founded. But, she wasn’t and still isn’t Marian Wright Edelman. So when Hill says she helped pass legislation that mandates that millions of disabled kids get to go to school, I say “yay” for being part of the team, but my skepticism creeps. How much you figure they let the new kid, the eager 25 year old fresh-faced with damp ink still on her sheepskin, do for the legal stuff compared to say what Edelman, an honored civil rights attorney did herself?

She worked for a group that advocated for legislation that would have been, I dunno, written up in Congress, rather than say by the newest lawyer in the non-profit place that can’t legally write actual legislation but only advise and educate and inform. Relevant experience, sure. But experience toward being President of the United States? Hmmm. (Actually, from surfing the web, it’s unclear to me whether Hillary was Edelman’s lawyer or worked for the CDF. If she was the attorney to the founder, she’s even one more step removed from the bill of which she’s proud.)

By the way, CDF is behind the Leave No Child Behind® Movement, which has worked out so well with GW.

Speaking of non-profits, I gotta say husband Bill is getting on my nerves in his post-presidency career. Lots of interviews and specials and whatnot have him reinventing philanthropy to be more accountable and business-like. Only I have been associated with one of the West Coast-based places that has been pointed to as a leader and innovator in that field for decades before Bill entered the fray or “reinvented.”

I know that politicians are full of shit, but it’s rare for me to have such specific first-hand knowledge to be able to cry a little bullshit on Bill and his Global Initiative. If he’s creating new stuff his own bad self, I wonder why his was offering to comp folks I know who would be presumably behind his curve.

Hill, sadly as a feminist, is becoming for me what I think Jesse Jackson is for a bunch of African Americans. I want to vote for her, because we are fellow travelers and I’m sure she was bummed about the failure of the ERA, and I want to tick the box for that moment in history. I do.

But, like black folks and Jesse, there’s a lot of doubt over a bit of a charlatan, who hyped his involvement with civil rights and MLK and who is cringeworthy when he takes on the role of spokesperson for a race. His candidacy was historic in the 1980s, but in the end he couldn’t carry a nation and lost support from his presumed (arrogantly) base.

Hillary Rodham Clinton is a feminist’s Jesse Jackson. And, it makes me sad.

(P.S. Speaking of Jesse, check out my friend from Boston comedy (although neither of us live there anymore) and blogger, Baratunde Thurston with the man himself.)

Technorati Tags: elections, campaign, Hillary_Clinton, Jesse_Jackson, NH_Debates, Campaign 2008, primaries, Baratunde_Thurston

Two nights ago, I went to bed with visions of Armageddon, death, destruction, acts of god, power, fury, nature and all sorts of bad mojo. Yesterday, I woke up in a dark apartment, an hour later than I should have, with a blank-faced alarm clock next to me, no hot water and rain spraying against the windows. I emailed into work my lateness (from my iPhone given the lack of electricity flowing through my usual internet connection), and my co-worker emailed back a sarcastic warning about “Storm Watch 2008.”

I’ve written it here before, but one thing that never will cease to amaze me is the sheer pussiness of Californians in the face of weather the rest of the nation, nay the world, takes as normal. Traffic snarls and stops, power goes out and folks get a mite hysterical having to worry about such emergent issues as lawn chairs blowing off their patio.

Arnie likes to brag on the size of his state’s economy. But, being in the top ten largest doesn’t actually say anything about whether it’s well run. The rolling black and brownouts made famous by Enron ain’t really that rare, which is kind of fucked up. The lights go out in our town a bit too frequently for a state that’s still considered part of the developed world in a neighborhood fueled by money that is all about shit that needs the juice to survive.

After dressing in the dark and half-assedly, but fully bare-assedly, taking a cold shower, I did make it to work where several warnings went out about what they were figuring was a high probability of power outages. (Again, we are talking the main drag of a well-funded by technology town.) I managed to survive the day as weather and traffic warnings popped up all day on the internet. A hard rain was a-falling.

Despite the dire warnings, we ventured out for food during a lull in the midst of the “major winter storm” activity. Ohmigod wind AND rain. How was one to survive? (My absolute favorite warnings all day on local websites and in the local weather were for the Sierras. The prediction was for snow. In the mountains. In the winter. At high elevations. Snow, can you believe it? Snow, in the mountains in the winter in the mountains.)

Along the route of our town’s downtown, a huge swath of shops and cafes were locked up tight and darkened. You can’t really read it, but this Peet’s coffee shop had a note saying only that the storm had caused an early closing. (Some of the shops had more enlightening stories on their hand made signs referencing the power outage.)

My fave, though, was this local store.

Yeah, clearly rain in the forecast is a clarion call for sandbagging your doorway. Run for your lives, water is falling from the skies.

Technorati Tags: 2008, California, Silicon valley, snow, Weather, storm_watch

I haven’t been writing much about the upcoming election. Mostly, because, um, like in 2007 there wasn’t one. Just a lot of prep work, hype and assorted posturing and preening in prep for this year.

We’ll be way down South in Southeast Asia on Super Tuesday. (Note to dvae, I’m not mentioning where in case my awesome destructive powers take down another geographical location.) Luckily, California’s humungous voting machinery with loads in common with your average developing country somewhere less, ahh, I guess, developed, favors mailing in the ballot.

Somewhere post Gore’s victory in Florida and maybe the rise of computer driven voting in a state that knows from computing, a nice cynical streak has become policy. When I first registered to vote, the woman with the forms for the county Democratic Party was downright incredulous that I was interested in finding out about polling places. Think about that, throwing your vote in a little blue mailbox on the corner is considered safer than standing in a proper booth in a senior center, elementary school or church basement and handing your ballot right to the elderly volunteer.

Anywho, partially responsible for my non-writing about the political scene du jour is the malaise of indecision.

Early on, I was with the O’s still a youngun camp. Without much of a resume, I felt the same kind of gambling fear as with any job candidate lacking experience and just rolling with the good interview. That was pushing me to Hillary.

But, then I was thinking about it. Hillary’s a junior senator, too. Not exactly ripping up the streets of Capitol Hill neither with her senatoring. Leastways, she’s not Mrs. Smith goes to Washington. Way too much of a get along go along type for that, I think. Didn’t exactly stand out on those war votes, you know what I’m saying.

Near as I can tell, they both have some serious gaps in their resumes that don’t scream out presidential. Hill has Bill that seems to be the seesaw tilt. No Bill, no more extensive experience than Barack. I’m also giving O. a couple of points in the spread for being a member of the Foreign Relations Committee. That shit matters these days, since our relating with foreigners has been eight years of GW acting like a rube and alienating the other countries on the planet.

Biden quoted in the Financial Times under the headline “Sparse resumés perplex old hands” pretty well nails the problem with Hillary spinning the experience angle. If we, all us folks who call ourselves Democrats, really gave a rat’s ass about “experience,” old Joe wouldn’t be moments from dropping out of the race.

For me, right now, more than anything, I’m hating that Hill thinks it’s a good plan to start being a total dick. The kindergarten and madrassa memes, um, what the fuck really? And, I thought Bill was just a supreme douche in the now thoroughly discussed Charlie Rose interview.

I’ve had enough from the current administration of Rove’s having been a total cock, and I’m looking askance on anyone on the planet who seems to dig that whole method to success. Enough, for fuck’s sake, and I don’t mean that in some kind of naive, sunshine optimistic, foolish, uniformed way. I mean, I don’t want to fucking vote for someone who seems to be light on the whole ethics thing. Politic a way, but don’t be an asshole, that’s the mantra I learned from suffering the damages caused by the neo-cons.

I would love, seriously eat it up, lick the plate even, if Hillary would sell herself on positions and skills and let me (and everyone else) decide whether she’s got my vote. I’ve already lived through the muckrfy mucks telling me what’s best for me. Why not try showing me?

Folks I know back in Mass. are more than a bit wary of Barack, after some of the same campaign team got the “change” candidate Deval Patrick elected to governor of the Commonwealth. Deval’s lack of prior history and the now crappily blah beginning to his governor stint is keeping people gun shy and wary of history repeating.

If it becomes a battle over the campaign teams alongside the candidates, I’ll be hard pressed to be chill with Hill’s sleaze bags. ‘Course there’s a fair chance I’ll be voting Kucinich in the primary to let the probable winner know I give a shit about progressive issues.

Meanwhile, I feel a little love for Huckabee once I heard about greasing up a popcorn popper for a squirrel fry.

And, finally, the Financial Times described the Dem part of the Iowa Caucus thusly:

Often the larger groups, which for the Democrats means those supporting Hillary Clinton, John Edwards and Mr Obama, will compete to attract others to their side of the room by offering better food and drink. In some precincts, the exercise can descend into cacophonous debates that last an hour or more. In others only three or four people show up and the result emerges in minutes.

Do you figure the Brits read that and can’t help but chalk our elections as on par with Kenya’s?

Technorati Tags: 2008, 2008_Campaign, California, Iowa_Caucus, primaries, elections, Politics, vote

Back in the eastern coast, three hours back and where I used to be, it’s well into the new year. Here, not so much.

We’re not as screwed as say Pago Pago, or even Hawaii, but CNN is into repeating all of the other New Year’s like the westerner places don’t fucking matter. I saw the same patter three hours ago. Ho fucking hum, I guess, when you are the last to party. Maybe, they’ll show something live from Vegas in the next 20 minutes.

How, though, does a fucking news station go to repeats? I want Anderson Cooper up all night.

Technorati Tags: California, CNN, news, new_year, anticlimax, 2008

A while back, my big bro told me a story about one of his first post-college job interviews. He got the interview from a kindly relative looking to help out a fresh-faced young’un. The guy who interviewed him was a total dick and made it clear he thought his time was being wasted. He not only didn’t help my brother, he was pretty demoralizing. (At least, I think that’s how the story goes.)

Years later, through a series of jobs and climbing up corporate ladders and gaining experience and whatnot, the bro in question ended up on the opposite of the desk from the self-same prick who had dissed him in his youth. This time, in the power seat, brother got to let the guy know his services were no longer needed at the corporate offices. Sweet, if delayed, karma.

I got a bit of a taste of that kind of nectar my own bad self yesterday. I had coffee with one of the folks I knew I would miss when I left my last job. She was in my town, visiting another refugee from that employer, and we met up at one of my favorite cafes and chatted into the late afternoon.

Now, if you leave your job kind of sudden like in a ruckus, it’s natural to be curious about the aftermath. But, given the ruckus, I could never know what folks thought or what was left behind of me and my work. C’est la vie and la guerre and all that.

Turns out, there are a few folks who still give me credit for my mad admin and management skilz. A few folks who remember that I was neither malicious nor insane or whatever the gossip mill might have spit out given my circumstances. Best of all, this woman who I considered a friend back then and a friend now, has even cited me to a new wave of management as her first mentor who taught her some of the management skills she now possesses and is using to climb the ladder from which I got shaken off four years ago. (Of course, as a bright, thoughtful person, her success is probably a lot more organic and internal than she gives herself credit. Still and all, it’s nice to be remembered.)

Here’s the great part that makes me feel like karma does will out and every dog has her day while every scumbag gets a comeuppance — Apparently, on the day she had received my Christmas card in the mail, she had actually been talking about me and our past working together. She’s having a bit of trouble with the very same person who it appears knifed my younger and less wise back firmly between the shoulder blades a while back. My visage on our card was a reminder, she said, of who to trust (or not, as the case may be).

She’s truly an optimistic, kind-hearted person, and, thus, is at risk from trusting mother-fucking assholes, like my special friend from years ago. Except, she’s persevered now and come out from hiding, as it were, so that the mother-fucker in question can no longer claim her work for the MF’s own.

(Ironically, I think I laid the groundwork for her current career by crashing and burning in weblogging style. I gather she picked up a lot of the pieces I had dropped when I left, inadvertently shining light on the emperor who had no clothes. I’m pretty sure it was the nude emperor who stabbed me. Now she’s at least a grade higher than the perpetrator in the corporation, who has been stripped of much of the kingdom and had shit stopped (like buying home computers on the government’s dime). She has succeeded where I failed in a job that might have been mine in had things not happened as they did. I have no doubt the asshole will be gone in six months or less.)

I’m still angry and hurt by what happened to me. Not in an active way, since my life is quite lovely and all’s well that ends well. But, I really do think what happened was a malicious attack. Really, I do. One that has meant I can’t ever truly trust coworkers as I once did. One that had me doubting my own abilities and workplace relationships for years.

From my point of view, reporting this ‘blog to HR and implying I was threatening served no one well and served no purpose. If I were truly sick and a threat or stressed or otherwise in need of intervention, so many positive things could have been done, including sitting down and talking with me. Given that I wasn’t crazed, my reputation, my private life, my work history were all potentially damaged. Without a lawyer, I’m not sure I would even have been able to get the job I have today. Actually, I know I wouldn’t have.

Worse, if I gave a rat’s ass for my old employer, they ended up losing money and time, paying me off and sorting through the work I never properly prepared to transition to new staff. A loss all around, if you think about it.

I guess hearing about the place I spent so many hours toiling gave me a sense of vindication. Knowing that the asshole who fucked me and fucked the company hasn’t prevailed seems fair. Getting credit for mentoring, for some of the systems I had started to put in place, makes it all seem a bit less in vain. Knowing that a good woman, who I had enjoyed knowing when we worked together (actually through two different companies), has been promoted is promising. It all gives me hope.

And, in my current job, in the year end/year beginning review I’m due to finish and hand back to the boss, I think I’ll have a bit more perspective. My boss has lauded my team spirit, my leadership skills and my stewardship, in the words of the HR forms. Above everything, she’s mentioned my judgment and ability to communicate.

Given my past history, it’s been difficult for me to remember that these are skills with which I’ve been credited before. I had forgotten that I had been a contributor to my last job. That I had made friends and that some people admired my work. For fuck’s sake, one reason my lawyer pushed back for me, apart from the fees I was paying him, was what he saw when he demanded my old work files. According to him, you just didn’t see very often in a labor dispute such a stellar record of reviews and promotions.

So 2007 is on the brink of dying, and my head is back in July 2004. But, I’m feeling good about that year and it’s death, too. One quote that still rings true for me in summing up the situation, and the reality I hope my friend remembers when she is back in Boston if she’s right about who my accuser was, is this one:

I could have lived with getting fired. I probably wouldn’t have fought back if I was dismissed for a conflict in how my interests and the workplace’s had fallen out of alignment. Ho hum, to no longer find yourself as a productive drone in the hive.

But, that was not what happened. It was more, it was worse and it was personal. I was associated with violence and the potential to be dangerous. That is a fucking sick thing to do to someone.

Technorati Tags: abuse, karma, fired, vindication, happiness, relationships, work