AT LAST!!!

So in case you’ve been wondering where I’ve been this week, this is the answer.  I’ve been thinking about moving towards a self-hosted website for a while now, and now the dream’s finally come true.  Starting tonight, I will no longer be posting on this WordPress-hosted blog.  This is now my blog’s permanent home.

I won’t bore you with details about how it all came together but I do want to give my cousin’s husband, Gilbert, a BIG shout-out.  He’s the one who really started the self-hosted site by uploading the necessary programs and templates.  It came along nicely, no?  This is only a starting point; from time to time I’ll be switching out the layout and adding new features.  (I get bored of templates rather easily.)  Thanks Gilbert for helping me get started on this process.  You are awesome!!

Click here to access the new site.

P.S. If you subscribe to feeds from this blog, you will need to change your feed settings.   Point your feed reader directly to speedycanizales.com instead of .wordpress.com.

I’m working out again.

I was working out a year ago and doing well, running between 15-20 miles per week, when I stopped.  So many things happened last summer – we moved, I got a new job – that my workout routine got sidetracked.  It took me a whole year to recover and start again, but this time it feels better.  I feel better.  Instead of focusing solely on running I am adding other things to the mix, like pilates, yoga (the sweaty kind) and weights.  These things have been making a big difference in the way I feel and my attitude towards working out.  It’s actually fun again.

The other thing I started about a month ago is track workouts.  Every Tuesday night Rene and I go to Birmingham High School and do track workouts with a coach and 30 other people (more or less, depending on who shows up).  The stadium lights are on and it feels like those Friday night football games in high school, except that there aren’t any cheerleaders or pectators in the stands.  Instead there’s people like me, schlepping to Birmingham High after a day of work, hoping for a good workout and a little companionship.  There’s a wide variety of ages and levels, from young to old and super fast to super slow, so there’s no pressure to keep up with anyone.  Everyone runs their own pace.  Despite this I am nervous every time I show up for these workouts.  It’s probably from memories of competing in track and cross-country in high school and college.  I was never the fastest runner on the team but I always helped my team score points.  For me there is always pressure to push my times down, and it comes from me.  I think this pressure is a good thing – it doesn’t guarantee that every workout will be great but it does give me motivation to push myself at the track.

Last night I ran very well.  I ran with the second group and stayed in the mix throughout the workout (five repeats of 1000M), cutting my times down with each lap and finishing strong.  Workouts like these make me focus on the right things – maintaining my running form, staying relaxed, focusing on the finish line – instead of the things that clutter my head and make running difficult.  Sometimes when I run my mind plays tricks on me, making me think about a situation that can’t be resolved or having an annoying song stuck in my head.  The most annoying song I have ever come across is Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head, which was the soundtrack of every Junior High PE class (I am so NOT kidding).  Everyday, without fail, that song would play itself in my head when we ran.   Just thinking about that song makes me shudder (I fear it will get stuck in my head again).

The only down side to all this activity is that I am physically exhausted most days, hence the lack of posts.  It is hard to compose a post after working out in the morning (or night) and having a full-time job.  Working out gives me more energy during the day but kicks my butt at night.  Most of the time I zone out on the couch and fall asleep with Sadie on my lap.  I am even starting to take naps on weekends, which is rare for me.  I’m hoping that like my workouts, my posts will find a rhythm again, and I can transform this little space on the internets into something better.

I have always believed that couples who can assemble furniture together stay together. Let me explain.

This weekend Rene and I decided to revamp our kitchen.  We wanted to create more space to prepare food (we have zero counter space) and store our stuff in a way that makes the most sense.   We also wanted to add a dining table, something we’ve needed ever since we moved to this place.  The thing is, our space is pretty small and we needed something that could expand/contract depending on our needs.  You know, just in case we wanted to use the space to have a dance party with Chuy and Sadie on Thursday nights.  (It could happen.)

After several trips to Ikea and several negotiations, we decided to get the Norgren table, which looks like this fully expanded:

We got it because of the storage units in the middle, and you can change the look of the table depending on what you’re doing.  Since I’m the only one sitting on the table right now it looks like this:

And when we want it flush against the wall for more space, it can look like this:

The best part?  It’s made out of real wood and not composite material, which makes up most Ikea pieces.  It was also really easy to assemble; we assembled the whole thing in 20 minutes, and did not bicker throughout the entire process.  Not one smart-ass remark from either one of us!

Assembling furniture is not usually an easy task for us.  I remember assembling a wardrobe a few years ago (again, from Ikea), and I remember having to take a break because we started to get snippy with each other.   We have different ways of figuring out how things work: I generally like to follow the instructions to the letter while Rene tries to figure it out independently, meaning skipping some steps and coming back to certain steps.  In his defense, he knows exactly what he is doing and can see how the pieces fit together.  I cannot, and rely on the instructions to tell me.  We would get pissed at each other because these differing approaches screw up the division of labor, where we find ourselves doing the same thing, or disagree about how something fits together.  Now I’m more relaxed about the whole process and defer to Rene, who surprised me today by letting me take the lead.  How we have grown these past few years!

Most of all, I’m really excited about our new table.  Now we can eat at the table instead of the couch, holding our plates on our laps and fighting off two dogs begging for food.  We can also use the same table when we need a space to work, instead of our old desk that could only accommodate one laptop.  Hurray for the extra space, extra storage, and extra dose of sanity the table brings.

A few weeks ago Rene and I discovered a new grocery store half a mile from our house called Seafood City.   It replaced the crappy Vons store, the one that never recovered after the union workers went on strike.  It was so bad that I used to drive to Albertsons a mile away or the other Vons two miles away to get food.  Now it’s been replaced by a flashy new sign and streamers across the top of the parking lot.

What I didn’t realize until I stepped inside is that it is a Filipino grocery store.  So how does it differ from a regular grocery store?  I think it’s the little things.  For instance, there’s two take-out restaurants and a bakery on the side, and a little food court area littered with tables and chairs.  Right next to the mini-food court is a remittance center that people use to send money overseas.

The food is a little different too.  Instead of having an abundance of apples and berries at the produce section there are mangoes and Asian pears.  There’s lettuce and spinach too but also kang kong (I don’t know its proper name) that is used in many Filipino dishes, and is one of my favorite vegetables.  Across the store there’s a large variety of fish to choose from, and the store fries them for you at no cost.

My favorite things to buy are the snacks.  Sweet or salty, there is a large variety of snacks from Asia.  My favorites include Clover Chips, Shrimp Flavored Chips (sounds gross but it is very good), White Rabbit Candy, Curly Top chocolates, and the ultimate sweet: Chocolate Mallows.  Chocolate Mallows is marshmallow with a graham cracker base covered in chocolate.  It’s my favorite sweet from childhood, and I always get a box or two whenever I visit.  I have been visiting often, so you do the math.  (Luckily I have been training for a race, and some of the calories burn off during my workouts.)

The most unusual part of going to the market is seeing my neighbors discover it for the first time: perusing aisles of food with brands they don’t recognize,  sniffing fruits they’ve never seen before, and trying to find the items they usually buy during their grocery trips.  I think it’s great that they are visiting the store and expanding their palettes.  There are so many interesting things at that store, things that I can’t find at typical American markets, that makes every trip so satisfying.

For some reason, coming to this grocery store feels a little bit like home to me.  Most people speak Tagalog (national Philippine language), and I can understand exactly what they’re saying.  It also gives me a chance to practice my pitiful Tagalog with the clerks.  I don’t attempt serious conversation – I mostly ask where things are, and how much things cost.  But it’s nice to do all these things in another language, no?

I can’t wait to visit again and buy some green mangoes and bagoong.  My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

All the rain we’ve been having lately means that the dogs have been cooped up in the garage during the day.  I leave the door open for them so they can use the bathroom, but they mostly hang out inside, snug amongst the blankets I lay down on the ground for them.  Chuy likes to stay comfortable within the warm fold of the blankets while the rain lulls him to sleep.   The rain, however, makes Sadie a little stir-crazy, evidenced by horseplay inside the house at night, when we should all be sleeping.   In an effort to reward the dogs for their patience and (mostly) good behavior, Rene and I decided to take a hike with the dogs on Saturday morning.

It was a gorgeous day.  We decided to hike Sesnon Canyon in Granada Hills, site of the Sesnon fires late last year.  Most of the area is still covered in ash and flora burned to the roots.  Fortunately the rain has helped some parts of the canyon recover and there are green patches here and there.  This was Sadie’s first hike with us, and she was a bundle of energy the whole way through.  We were worried that she was going to tire herself out and have us carry her back to the car.  Fortunately that didn’t happen, and she was a bundle of energy throughout our hike.

Chuy, however, was not a big fan of the uphill.  We had to stop and wait for him several times during the hike.  Normally he’s very good with walks but he takes it easy whenever he has to tackle a hill.  In his defense that path was all uphill, and our only reprieve was the walk down.

We went as far up as we could handle, and our reward was a magnificent view of the valley.

At the top Sadie FINALLY took a break:

After savoring the view for a few minutes and catching our breath, we made our way back to the trailhead.

Before getting in the car we took a Valentine’s Day picture to celebrate:

(More pictures here.)

***

We took the dogs home after the hike and bought tri-tip sandwiches from our favorite place, Hows Market.  We didn’t realize that the one in Granada Hills also served tri-tip sandwiches on weekends, and we had to see if it compared to the Hows Market in Malibu.  They barbeque the tri-tip right outside the store, and you can smell it from half a mile away.  The verdict?  It’s the same delicious sandwich.  If you’ve never had one, you should try these sandwiches – they are very good.  We find that they taste better after some kind of activity, like hiking or swimming in the ocean.  Otherwise it would be too much sandwich for one person.

If you’ve talked to me anytime during the past month you’d know that the ski bug has bitten me hard.  I’ve skied more days this season than the past ten years combined, and my skills have gotten better with each outing.  Skiing is a lot of fun, and I am always looking forward to the next time I hit the slopes.  The only down side to all this is that ski trips can get expensive.  There’s lift tickets (which cost between $60-85 per person per day), ski rentals, and if we travel out of town, transportation and accommodation.   Our budget can only afford so many ski trips per season, so we have been trying to ski our local mountains in between these ski trips.

Last Wednesday we took the day off from work to ski at Mountain High.  It’s located in Wrightwood, about an hour and a half away from our place.  Every Wednesday they have a two-for one lift ticket promotion so we took advantage of the deal.

We normally don’t like to ski locally because it’s often crowded and icy.  I’ve been spoiled by trips to Mammoth and Park City, where there are enough trails to disperse the crowd, and enough elevation to bring in snow (as opposed to the man-made stuff).  I’m glad we decided to visit Mountain High because there weren’t many people around (the benefit of skiing during the middle of the week), and there’s been a lot of rain and snow in Southern California the past two weeks for a decent base.

Oh deer: Erin impersonating a reindeer on the mountain

Skiing Mountain High was fun.   We got a chance to ski both sides of the mountain (West and East), and got to ski all the runs on the East resort.  We got the most for our money, which amounted to $27 per person for the day.  Not bad for a day of skiing!

The only drawbacks were that the runs were short and not as challenging when compared to other resorts we’ve visited.  We usually like runs that last more than 20 minutes, and most of the runs lasted between 10 and 15.  As for the levels (i.e. beginning, intermediate, advanced, expert), the difficulty level assigned to each run is relative to the mountain so it depends on each resort.  We found that the black diamond (advanced) runs at Mountain High would be an intermediate at Mammoth or Park City, and the double black diamonds (expert) would be an advanced run at Mammoth or Park City.  Towards the middle of the day Rene and I got into our groove and decided to ski down Olympic Bowl, a double diamond run:

And we lived to tell the tale!

We called it quits around 3 pm, once it started to get cold and windy at the top of the mountain.  On our way home we stopped by Charlie Brown Farms, a great roadside store/restaurant at Pearblossom Highway.  They’re known for their wild game meat (venison, bison, ostrich, elk) and curiosities (House of Dolls, dinosaur statues).  We ordered an ostrich burger, date shake and homemade chips and washed it down with Coca-Cola from Mexico.  Did you know that Coca-Cola Mexico uses sugar instead of high fructose corn syrup?  It makes the soda taste lighter.   We also bought a mood ring, a knit hat, and date treats to take home with us.

All in all, it was a great day to spend in the snow, away from the office, before the President’s Day weekend.

There’s been a big change here at the Speedy household.  We’ve added a new member to our family!  Say hello to Sadie:

Sadie is an English Bulldog, and was born on November 20 (same birth date as me!), making her a Scorpio.  She has lots of energy and enjoys running around the yard and chasing after basketballs.  More deets to come in the next post.  For now, here are more Sadie pics:

First meeting: Sadie and Chuy

Getting acquainted

Playing basketball with my niece Samantha

Tired after running around the yard in the afternoon

(Click here to see the album on Flickr.)

When it comes to fitness I’m all talk and no action.  I’ve wanted to get back into shape for the last couple of months but have done absolutely nothing about it.  I like to blame it on my unpredictable work schedule, but the truth is I’m just lazy.  I’ve been thinking of joining the gym or taking yoga classes but it’s hard for me to make a commitment.

Last week my friend Cicely told me about this crazy race she’s running in April.  It’s a relay run by a team of 12 people, and the legs can range from three to seven miles.  The total distance is 177 miles, meaning each person has to run three legs.  Sounds pretty intense, right?  Assuming the whole team runs an average of 10 minutes a mile, it will take us almost 30 hours to finish the race.   Here’s the kicker: the race is continuous.  There’s a chance I could be running a 5-mile leg at 2 am!  Thankfully Rene is part of the team and will run with me in the dark if that’s the slot I end up taking.

At first I wasn’t too keen on the idea.  I am out of shape and don’t have much time in the evenings to run.  Then I thought about it some more: I’d be running with a group, and people would be counting on me to be in shape.  To me that is good motivation – there’s nothing like suffering as a team.  I took a deep breath and took the plunge.  Yowza!

*****

Our first workout was last Sunday at Long Beach, where I met my teammates Alan, Cici, and Kyle.  We ran five miles along the beach, from the boardwalk all the way to the Queen Mary.  We passed some colorful characters along the way: there was this woman wearing a t-shirt that said I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND.  Rene looked at me and said, “Don’t ask me how I know but that woman loves her boyfriend.”  It was so funny that I started cracking up in the middle of our run, and I nearly had to stop because it’s hard laughing when you’re out of breath.  I was laughing so hard that another runner in front of us turned around and asked if we were laughing about the same thing.  We were.  A few minutes later we saw a man wearing a shirt that said FREE NOSE JOBS.  Judging by his tough appearance I’m assuming he meant breaking noses, not fixing them.  Not really funny, that one.

Cici, me, Kyle, Alan, Rene

Ready Freddies (our team name) in motion

Cici said to act tired – unfortunately I was the only one who did it, hence the goofy expression

(Thanks Cici for the pictures!)

After our run we ate breakfast at some place called Panama Joe’s.  I had the champagne brunch special, and ordered a seafood omelet as my main entrée.  They accidentally switched my food with Cici’s so we both ate a few bites of each other’s food.  Hers was pretty good.  I wish mine had more beans with cheese.  I hope Alan and Cici don’t think I’m some sort of raging alcoholic for having multiple glasses of champagne.  It was bottomless so I took full advantage.  Why pay a premium when there’s no booze involved?

Next week we’re meeting at the Rose Bowl and running two three-milers.  I’m excited to meet the rest of the team, and hopefully convince them to eat at Roscoe’s House of Chicken and Waffles.  If there’s one I love to do in Pasadena it’s visiting Roscoe’s for some chicken and waffles.

I first learned to ski ten years ago.  It was during a day trip to our local mountain, Snow Summit, and I happily pointed my wedge (aka pizza slice) all the way down the mountain.  As a beginner I was over the moon that I could: (a) get off the lift without hurting myself, and (b) get down the mountain without hurting myself (via wedge and the emergency sit-down method).  I would occasionally visit Snow Summit and Big Bear over the years, never for more than a day, and ski my little heart out.  I would be happy if at the end of the day I could make it down the mountain.  Over time it became apparent to me that the wedge was not enough – that in order to really enjoy skiing I would need to improve (gulp).   And ski more than the beginner runs.

It all began in 2006.  Rene and I went to Big Bear for the weekend and skied for two consecutive days.  We were still beginners but had improved: we could ski from the top of the mountain, and were beginning to use the hockey stop instead of the dreaded wedge.  Two weeks later we visited Whistler (site of the 2010 Olympic Games) and had a blast.   We picked up skiing again this year because of my good friend Erin, who is an awesome skier.  We spent a few days at Mammoth with her and her hubby Jeff over Thanksgiving weekend, learning how to ski again, and miraculously, getting better.  So much so that by the end of the weekend Rene and I were skiing mostly intermediate runs, with a few advanced intermediate runs thrown in the mix.  That’s when the ski bug bit us. 

We just came back from a five-day trip to Park City, UT on MLK weekend and it was awesome.  For five whole days Rene and I skied our little hearts out – we were out there everyday, taking some nasty falls (and a face plant for me) but getting better.  By now we are pretty solid intermediate skiers ready to go to the next level.  I am amazed by the amount of progress we’ve made just from two trips this winter.  Erin says that it takes consecutive days of skiing to get better and I couldn’t agree more.  I feel like I spent the first two or three days in Park City learning how to ski again (I fell during our first run on the mountain and almost cried when it took me over 20 minutes to snap my skis back on.  It was horrible.) then the last two days getting better. 

I learned two things in Park City:

1. Once you have The Fear it is hard to shake it off.
2. Always ski with your hands in front of you like a boxer. (Technique taught by Jeff that has improved my skiing tremendously, resulting in no more hard spills.)

The Fear is when you are on the precipice of a steep hill and you hesitate before coming down the mountain.  The Fear happens when you look down and struggle with how you will make it down the mountain.  It happens to all levels, according to Erin, and for me it’s a mistrust of my ability and equipment: will I be able to stop?  Will I be able to stop if someone gets in front of me?  What if my skis accidentally cross and I fall?  After these questions went through my head I started to second-guess myself, and became a really big wuss in the process.  What’s worse is that I became a self-fulfilling prophecy whenever this happened.  I did have a hard time stopping, and I did fall.  It was only towards the end of the trip that I realized I should stop thinking about it and just do it.  Tackle the hills, get into a rhythm, and enjoy the moment.  That’s when it became really, really fun.

*****

If you’ve ever seen a Utah license plate it says “Best Snow On Earth.”  Utah does have some wonderful snow – it’s the best I’ve ever come across – and a ton of ski resorts within an hour of Salt Lake City.  We booked a two-bedroom condo in Park City, just a block from the Park City Resort (site of the 2002 Winter Olympics).  There were two other resorts within five miles: Deer Valley and The Canyons.  We only visited Park City and Deer Valley during our stay.

Of the two I was really looking forward to Deer Valley.  My friend Erin had raved about its twice-groomed runs and skiers-only policy.  It is the #1 rated North American Resort by Ski Magazine, and has some fancy lodges to back up that title.  Erin’s dad calls it “very Republican,” meaning it’s swanky and mostly affluent people and their families ski there.  It’s also a skiers-only resort, meaning no snowboarders allowed.  

Apparently I was not Republican enough during my first visit to Deer Valley.  After riding the bus to the resort, we had to cross a line of cars dropping off passengers in order to get to the ticket office.  While crossing one of my boots tapped the hood of a BMW – the driver was too close to the car in front of her, and I inadvertently tapped her car because of the tiny space and all the equipment I was carrying (skis, boots, poles, etc.).  Keep in mind that all this equipment is heavy and bulky.  Right after we crossed the line of cars I heard yelling in the background, and Rene said I that I hit the BMW with my boot and the driver was really mad.  I didn’t think anything of it – I didn’t even bother to look back – and shrugged it off.  I mean, come on, it was a TAP – she   was overreacting. 

Not two minutes later, as we waited for Erin to get our lift tickets, a blonde woman came up to Rene and said loudly so everyone could hear, “Excuse me, when you hit a NICE BMW you say sorry.”  I guess she was expecting us to apologize but Rene just gave her a blank stare and she stormed off.  I wanted to say something back but I’m hopeless in these situations and couldn’t think of anything snappy to say.  So all day long Erin and I kept thinking of snappy comebacks like “Maybe when you have a 5- or 7- Series I’ll say sorry – maybe” (The lady had a 3-Series BMW that was a few years old) and “So if you had a Honda or Toyota I don’t have to say sorry to you?”  We played it up the whole day.  The situation was ridiculous, really, and the lady only made herself mad by getting out of her car and demanding an apology.  I am a little sorry for tapping her car but her huffy attitude made me adamant about not apologizing.  She treated us like we had never seen a BMW and had no clue how much they cost.  They are a dime a dozen here in LA, and we couldn’t care less about them.  Just because a person drives a BMW doesn’t mean they’re important in my eyes, and that’s the feeling I got from her: that she was entitled to an apology because she was driving a NICE BMW.  Please!

Thankfully that little incident did not ruin my visit to Deer Valley.  We had a great time at the slopes:

(More pictures here.)

Everyone else, apart from BMW lady, was very nice.  While we were in Park City the Sundance Film Festival kicked off, and it was fun listening to the pissing-contest conversations all over town.  A lot of Hollywood-types would play up their connections, or compare film festivals, and we found ourselves making fun of these people over and over again.  Not all LA residents are self-absorbed, self-important weasels but I can see where the stereotype comes from.  I was hoping to catch a celebrity or two wandering Main Street but all I got was Scott Wolf from Party of Five, wearing a helmet and ski boots at the Deer Valley Lodge.  Hey, at least I didn’t go home empty-handed.

*****

Now that I’m home I am missing the slopes of Park City terribly.  I am missing days of waking up and having nothing to do but ski all day long. *Sigh* I am counting the days to the next ski trip, this time a day trip to Mt. High in February.  I am hoping this tan line on my face fades before then:

That’s what I get for wearing such big sunglasses.

It’s always been my belief that what you did on the first day of the year defined what you would be doing for the rest of the year.  This year I was en route to San Francisco, so I’m hoping this will be a year filled with great trips.

On New Year’s weekend we went to San Francisco for a mini-break.  I needed a weekend off badly, having worked long days after Christmas.  My friend Cristina had graciously offered her apartment in the city for us, and we gladly accepted.  All we wanted to do was relax: I was sleep-deprived and tired, and Rene was getting over a bad cold/cough.  Our plan was to sleep in, visit some restaurants for leisurely meals, and maybe walk around the city. 

We left mid-morning on New Year’s Day, taking the 101 freeway instead of the 5 so we could take in fabulous views of the California coastline.  We stopped by Garrett’s in Santa Barbara for brunch, where we met a waitress with technicolor eye makeup, and in San Luis Obispo to stretch our legs.  We arrived at San Francisco at 7 pm, which gave us plenty of time to drop off our things and eat pizza at our favorite place, North Beach Pizza on Grant Street.

The next day I met my friend Kristin of Camels & Chocolate at Café Murano.  I was a little apprehensive about the meeting because we had never seen each other in person but we did correspond via email.  I left a comment on her blog almost a year ago, and we’ve been emailing and swapping stories ever since.  Kristin is a travel writer based in San Francisco.  I live vicariously through Kristin, who gets to visit fabulous places for work.  She just came back from a trip to Australia, island-hopping around the Great Barrier Reef and hugging koalas.

Kristin was terrific – we hung out for hours, catching up and window shopping along Fillmore Street.  I’m hoping our paths will cross again, hopefully in Los Angeles, and I can show her some great places I’ve found.

Rene spent that morning at the Golden Gate Park Botanical Garden, taking pictures of flowers and succulents.  He loves visiting that place because it showcases a nice variety of succulents (he’s got quite a collection here at home), and it’s free to the public. 

After doing our own thing for most of the day we met up to have dinner at the House of Prime Rib.  Rene and I have developed a fascination with prime rib lately, and have been visiting several restaurants to figure out who serves the best prime rib.  Before San Francisco we had visited Houston’s and Tam O’Shanter here in LA, and we think Houston’s is the best.  The House of Prime Rib comes in second – the presentation wasn’t as nice as Houston’s but the prime rib was good.  They also have a nice waiting area with a fireplace, where you can have a cocktail (I recommend the gimlet) and warm nuts (hehehe) while waiting for your table.  They serve the prime rib using a rolling cart, and you can watch them cut meat for your table.

After dinner we walked around the city, strolling past Union Square and the Peace Tower on our way home.

The next day we had brunch at one of my favorite restaurants in the city, the Elite Café.  We had brunch here on our last visit, and it was delicious.  They serve New Orleans fare, complete with homemade biscuits paired with strawberry butter and mimosas.  Last time I had the seafood benedict (shrimp and crab instead of ham), and on this visit I had the gumbo.  Both are delicious.  I can’t wait to visit San Francisco again just to try something else on their menu.

After brunch we walked over to the De Young Museum at Golden Gate Park to squeeze in a bit of culture.  We saw a special exhibit on Asian artists and Al Farrow.  Farrow’s exhibit was especially interesting because he constructed places of worship out of gun components: bullets, barrels, triggers.  He’s making an interesting statement on the role of religion in politics and war, and each piece was meticulously crafted.

Whenever I visit a museum I like to play a game.  I like to pretend that I am a very important person, and because I am a big deal I imagine that the museum will give me one piece from their collection.  This is kind of silly because these pieces cost thousands, if not millions, of dollars but it makes my visit enjoyable.  Visiting a museum can be overwhelming, and by playing this game I hone in on works that speak to me.  Wouldn’t it be great if I really could walk away with art of my choosing?  For this visit I chose this piece called Ocean Drive:

I like the pretty colors.

We capped our day off by having dinner at Dosa, an offshoot of the popular restaurant on Valencia Street.  I visited the new Fillmore location, which is pretty posh, and had the three-course meal.  We had to wait nearly an hour to get a table, and would’ve had to wait longer if not for the cafeteria-style table available next to the bar.  Rene and I don’t usually mind sitting with strangers – it is always nice to meet new people – but the people next to us were what I would call “uppity.”  They pretty much ignored our attempts at conversation and talked amongst themselves about how fabulous their lives were.  (Their lives were boring and lame.)  As for the food, my lamb curry was good but the rest was so-so.  Rene did not care for the restaurant; he thought hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurants served much better food at reasonable prices.  The atmosphere was nice and it did seem like a happening place; maybe our experience would’ve been better if we had reserved a table and were dining with friends.

We made our way home the next day, relaxed and refreshed from our brief weekend in San Francisco, and ready for the week ahead.  Here’s hoping the next year is full of adventures!