all that's changed

Matt helped put a child molester away for life this week. His jury duty wrapped up today; it was a brutal case for anyone involved, and I'm so proud of him for seeing it through.

I don't want to get into specifics online, because it was a closed case. The jury convicted on all charges. Afterwards they found out that the defendant was previously convicted in the late 80's on the exact same charges. The jury then had to sit through a recounting of the previous case with the previous victims (now the same age as Matt) testifying again, because they had to determine the "Third Strike" sentence. They put the guy away 800+ years.

The bailiff told Matt afterwards that the man's wanted in 2 other states on the same charges. He's been using the same MO for years. But he's done now.

Posted by em at 7:24 PM | Permalink | Comments

Matt's on jury duty this week. We'd been joking around that maybe he'd end up on 1 of the 2 splashy local murder cases - a stabbing of a beauty queen and her roommate, and a crazy-looking dentist who may or may not have offed his wife back in the 90's. Instead, he found himself on a pretty grim child abuse case. I don't know anything more about it. He could have gotten out of it because of his work schedule, but he felt compelled to stay since there were so many idiots in the jury pool.

I'm proud of him, because nothing in his experience has prepared him for this kind of real-world horror (which is why he was chosen as a juror) and he's hanging in there. I don't think he's ever had to consider the matter so closely, and it's brutal just to think about, much less live through.

He came home last night and just wasn't there at all. He was going to go to the gym, then decided against it. I suggested a dog walk, and he spaced out the whole time, which was fine. We got home and I suggested cards or ping pong or going to a distracting, upbeat movie but nothing sounded good to him. Eventually I dragged him out for dessert and a quick trip to the $5 movie section at Target to get something silly.

But this morning he looked just awful. He yelled at the dogs for goofing around and we all were completely taken aback. He apologized and left. Poor kid.

Posted by em at 8:50 AM | Permalink | Comments

I got Maisie the Tricky Treat Ball, and although it took her all of 15 seconds to figure out, she loves it. It has a funnel-shaped hole you drop treats into. Roll it around just so, and the treats fall out. She's been manipulating that thing all over the house for 2 weeks, and neither one of the other dogs has any idea what's so interesting. So...highly recommended for clever dogs; average dogs...maybe not.

She got bored with kibble, so tonight I put peanuts in there. She hasn't stopped for a good half hour.

There's our girl in her stylish new Petflys carrier. Has "Puppy Love 4 Ever" tattoo flash on it; had to be purchased.

Posted by em at 9:55 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm always so happy on the days I remember to check out viceland.com. I don't bookmark it. Because when I remember it, it's like a joyous reunion with my bitterly judgemental hypersexual angry side.

we resent the implication that girls like this exist

ex-girlfriend convention

we're all God's bitch

Posted by em at 10:10 AM | Permalink | Comments

We have a sneaking suspicion that Tallulah has blown out her "good" knee - the one that didn't have a $2k surgery. All of a sudden after the dog park yesterday, she's limping. I'm keeping her off it and giving her Rimadyl, which totally helps - it's DogBuprofen essentially. And she has the next available appointment. Matt doesn't want to put her through that awful surgery again but I think she can manage it. Send her good thoughts!

Posted by em at 9:59 AM | Permalink | Comments

I may live in wine country, but I'm not a big wine person. I enjoy it, I know a fair bit about it, but to me it's no big.

All the nonstop wine industry talk bores me. I've learned to be semi-patient with it. Which means rather than true patience, which would be feigning polite interest, I zone out. Wine's great and all, but fuck. It's a beverage. (Words I would never utter to my winemaking friends.) I can talk wine for awhile, drink it a good while longer, but it doesn't captivate me. Plus, wine hangs me over.

One thing about wine talk in particular shits me to tears - the vocabulary. Sweet Bacchus in Hades I want to beat my head on the table at phrases like "sex in a glass" which say precisely Nothing. People use that language for food, too - totally don't get it. Words like "haunting smoky finish" or "overripe plum," yeah, that language can be trite and easily mocked, but at least you're getting somewhere description-wise. Sexy desserts and sex in a glass - if that's your idea of sex, 1) you're overfed and 2) you need to get out more.

Nothing to me smells "like sex." That's not how I come at the concept of sex, I suppose. However.

The Dreamer by Versace. It doesn't smell like sex. It smells like one hell of an evening, at the end of which you already know you're going to be dying to be in bed with someone in particular. It smells like expensive gin and even more expensive cigarettes, rich tropical fruit, sweet cream, and something else, maybe oil on a hot tailpipe. (Whoa, phallus police! But that scent's in there, or something like it. Smell it and see.) It's my favorite men's fragrance, yet I've never smelled it on a man. If I ever did, I would probably either faint or eat him alive on the spot.

Here's Chandler Burr's description:
"You smell this thing, and not only do you not think men's cologne (because you can't possibly), you think "My God!..." and then "What the hell is it?!" "It" is, first, absolutely mouthwatering. It is walking through a French pastry shop next to a spice market in southern Thailand. Then there's ice cream, gun powder, fruit candy, hot cocoa, marshmallows, blood orange peel, and probably some DDT. It is the most mesmeric fragrance I know."

Admit it. You're curious.

Posted by em at 4:06 PM | Permalink | Comments

Some of my favorite shots from the last week - pets and my best shot from the wedding. That kid is a crackup.

Posted by em at 8:18 AM | Permalink | Comments

I saw Brokeback Mountain tonight, finally. I knew the basics of the plot, but not the exact ending, although it has tragedy written all over it so I knew I was in for it. It's a nearly flawless retelling of the fact that we're all marked by lack and loss. Because that's how it is.

Tonight when the insomnia hit, I was flipping through other blogs, and found an entry about someone losing their cat. I had to put my dog Ivan to sleep about a year ago. It was in late June, I forced myself not to pay attention to the date so I wouldn't remember it, or worse, wouldn't remember to remember it until too late, and then feel terrible. This way I don't feel terrible. I remember what I want when I want. This is much better.

For 10 months, I couldn't think of Ivan without crying. The first few weeks were awful - I was miserable and nobody understood or knew what to do. I knew I was feeling "normal," and should talk about it when I felt like it. But people looked distinctly uncomfortable when I talked about it, so I stopped. That's the thing about grief. People want you, in fact they need you to be over with it long before you really are. But it got better with time, like it usually does.

Matt's friend Aaron died suddenly in October, and I watched Matt wrestle down that same problem; reconciling himself to the fact that the story is told. There was actually the potential to say much more, but no. It's ended. Even though it wasn't anybody's idea of an ending. It was a dissonant chord, an off note, something unsettling that takes a long time to quiet down in you. But it has. The quieting trick is actually doing the wrestling with that ending, whatever it is. Do it however you like, but take that motherfucker on.

So why am I up late, thinking and writing about the dead, grief, and loss (and not crying)? Because that's how it is.

Still. No sense in dwelling. Tomorrow we're taking the horses to the Russian River and I'll watch a romance.

Posted by em at 12:20 AM | Permalink | Comments

I started summer school yesterday - Nutrition. It's science credit for non-sci majors (I just need 3 credits) so I better get an A. I think I will from the looks of the syllabus - only about 20% new material for me. Man with a gorgeous French African accent is teaching, so it's a pleasure to listen.

Since this seemed to raise a lot of interest in class, the deal is:

Saturated fats are fatty acids (chains of carbon plus other stuff) in single bonds. Saturated fat by itself is usually solid at room temperature - butter, lard, cheese, the fat in meat. Has health benefits in small doses.

Monounsaturated fats are the good kinds, fatty acids with 1 double bond in the chain. Olive and peanut oils, avocados, nuts. Healthy.

Polyunsaturated fats have more than one double bond. Very healthy in small doses. Oily fish like salmon is polyunsaturated. These are the "omega" oils, referring to its caboose position in the molecule.

Hydrogenated or trans fats occurs when hydrogen is (sometimes) forced into the fatty acid chain into a double bond. In margarine and diet foods - avoid if at all possible. (It's a trans isomer, which has to do with conformation).

So eat salmon cooked in olive oil and you're golden. In other words - the mediterranean diet.

Cats That Look Like Hitler. May 31 has my vote.

Check out these cute cartoons by Natalie Dee.

Posted by em at 9:08 AM | Permalink | Comments

Today I was delighted to hear from the lovely Wanda, who blogs over at Storm of Desire about herself and her exotic dance career. She gives incredibly sane advice about finances and personal safety, as well as tips for clientele. It's lots of fun.

Also, there's lots of sexy girlie pix. Check it out.

Posted by em at 4:22 PM | Permalink | Comments

All my romanticism regarding weddings and marriage was blown out of the water long ago, but I still like attending weddings. I try to be gracious about it, but it's a bit of a sport these days. And why not? It's a big life event, if you choose to do it publicly. But for every bride that's whined about how stressed out she is over her $20k affair, there's 10 guests lurking in the shadows, waiting to critize her hors d'ouvres, her dress, her table settings, whatever. Put yourself on show like that and it's human nature, I suppose.

I've taken the position recently that wedding guests are too critical. I've been advising everyone to just shut up and be nice. However.

If you're going to bother with having a wedding, which is a public ceremony of civil and/or religious significance to which one may choose to invite family and friends, the least you can do is make it bearable. Like for instance, not leaving guests to stand out glaring sun in 90+ degree weather for over an hour with no water available and no place to go while you take photos. Or maybe use your brilliant restauranteur savvy we've all heard about and go ahead and hire a wait staff for your reception at your own restaurant, so your mothers and a few volunteer guests who weren't expecting to have to work don't have to do everything. Or have running water available at the reception? Or maybe just wipe down the tables before people are forced to sit down and ruin their nice clothes?

And at the end of all that, since everyone bothered to deal with all this for the sake of your public affirmation of your private commitment, you should actually be married. You know, with the license and everything? Otherwise, it was a waste of time and money, at least for the guests. Who could have been at the pool.

Posted by em at 7:52 AM | Permalink | Comments

Sorry for my long absences. I've had some changes in my life that I'm still trying to process, pretty unsuccessfully.

Part of me always thought I'd be leaving here and going back to the city, to real life, to the next thing. But it looks like I'm staying, which is profoundly strange. I thought I'd get used to it, but I'm not, not so easily. Therefore, insomnia. Which is boring as hell to write about, so I won't.

I heard about a great wedding wherein the brother of the bride decided his sister's big day was the perfect day to:

1. Break an 8-month sober
2. Turn himself in for several warrants and a minimum 5-year sentence.

Don't you love families?

Meanwhile, I'm off to a family wedding this weekend, which, sorry to say, is about as unorganized as I've ever seen. No one knows where or when anything is, no reception information at all, no maps, nothing. I figure the less I know, the less I have to show up for. My orderly German family is dealing pretty well with the chaos. So far.

Posted by em at 1:37 AM | Permalink | Comments

For awhile I've been reading the blog here: http://mychamberdoor.blogspot.com/ which is mostly about a married woman chronicling her extramarital affair with a coworker. What sucked me in initially was the raciness of it, I admit. The first day I read it happened to be this full-on description of her last hotel room interlude, and then went on to describe how everyone at the office knew, some mild hand-wringing about how she really should learn to be faithful to her husband next to descriptions of the lingerie she's buying for her lover. That kind of thing.

The idiocy kept me coming back. She was getting blocked from her blog at work and couldn't figure it out. She noted once how her lover's first wife, who he called a cheating whore or some such, looks remarkably like her. Huh, go fig.

But I ruined it. I actually commented. She didn't like the cheating whore comparison, and didn't post it. Today some other idiot commented about his extramarital affair, asked her not to post his comment, which she did, along with his email address. And his profile has a cute lil photo of him, just in case his wife's cousin happens to be browsing the internet one night and puts two and two together. Brilliant!

I shouldn'ta said nothin. These things are only fun from a distance.

She's not sleeping with the coworker at the moment, so it isn't as exciting as it was. But check it out anyway.

Posted by em at 1:23 AM | Permalink | Comments

that my "Wherefore Morpheus?" post awhile back was somewhat incorrectly stated, depending on how you look at it.

"Wherefore Morpheus?" isn't asking where Morpheus is, it's asking "Why Morpheus?" So if I'd thrown a comma in there, I could get away with it.

I should really have asked "Whither Morpheus?" if I want to know where the dude is, which is really my intention.

These are the things I think about when I get woken up early by loud birdsong on what promises to be a hot Saturday morning.

Posted by em at 8:41 AM | Permalink | Comments

Sorry for the long absentia -- I have been busy doing a fat lot of nothin. It is a student's prerogative to

Okay wait stop. I admit I just had to look up "prerogative" AND I will have you know that my suspicions were correct, it's PRErogative not PERogative. I realize my spelling and grammar has suffered indignities since starting science courses but apparently, I still gots it. Those Ursprache spelling bee shits have nothin on me.

It is a student's prerogative to do fuck-all once a semester ends. I've been in denial about the necessity of summer school, and yeah, I gotta do it. Fortunately only a 6 week course, but it's in bloody Nutrition of all the boring things (I was going to drive the extra miles to Oakland to take Human Sexuality but decided that was a lot of pricey gas to be driving to a class I should be TEACHING) and I thought I was done with proteins for awhile. Plus my hand thing is back and I need a second surgery. So for all that, and other reasons, I've been a little down.

I tried going long walks, but what with one thing another, Maisie's eye injury and the fucking heat mostly, it's not doing me. I haven't ridden Bear in 2 weeks because his owner's been in town (I'm back out tomorrow). I can't find anything fun in the library. I paid $50 in iTunes fees to watch the entire season of Lost in like a week. In other words, serious ennui.

And then it hit me.

Matt, I says, I think I want a bicycle. You hate bicycles he says. That one time you wanted me to teach you to mountain bike you did an endo in the parking lot. Shut up I says. And I don't hate bicycles, I hate the thought of getting run over while ON a bicycle. Which in San Francisco happens ALL THE TIME don't try to tell me otherwise, Andi Lee Hatch. But in Napa there are plenty of places to ride bikes where you won't get run over. And so now, after like 20 years, I want a bicycle. You want a bicycle? he says, have I got you a bicycle.

Enter the Electra Townie.

It's bright orange with whitewalls and white fenders and a wicker basket. It arrives in a week. Summertime fun on 2 wheels. Stay tuned.

Posted by em at 5:36 PM | Permalink | Comments