zoinks

What on earth would possess someone to create a shirt like this??

I'm off to China! So I suppose that means a week of no facebook (banned), possibly no blogger (maybe banned?), and potentially no internet (depending on the generosity of the local starbucks). If by some miracle I update this blog in the next week, well, that'd be cool I suppose. Otherwise, I'll try to update this in a week or so.

sad time for television

As a child, I was a big fan of TV Land and nick@nite, and enjoyed watching some of the old time tv shows. I remember viewing reruns of classics like I Love Lucy, Mork and Mindy, McHale's Navy, and The Andy Griffith Show. Though these shows were made during a much less politically correct era, yet there was something timeless about some of these black/white classics. This past week, I was saddened to learn of the passing of not just one, but two classic tv icons, Ernest Borgnine and Andy Griffith.

Ernest Borgnine, the star of McHale's Navy, had been a character actor with a career that spanned six decades. I may only remember him in McHale's Navy, but he was so much more than just that. Apparently he had a 10 year Navy career that included 5 distinguished service medals, won an Oscar award in 1955, was nominated for an Emmy for his work on ER, and was the Mermaid Man on Spongebob Squarepants.

I was exceptionally saddened to hear of the passing of Andy Griffith. The eponymously named Andy Griffith Show was both entertaining and funny. He was a trustworthy small town sheriff who had both a sense of humor and common sense. Oh and his show was funny. These days, in the era of edgy shows like Jackass and Punk'd, it's nice to know that the Andy Griffith show can still air daily on tv and get good ratings. Since his days on The Andy Griffith Show (by far the best theme song to whistle), he's had successfully performed such a wide range of characters, although my favorite has definitely been Matlock. As he aged, he gave off that warm grandpa feeling, and you can't help but trust the guy.

I'm saddened to hear of the passing of both of these men. They were both incredibly likeable and disarming and they'll definitely be missed for their comedy.

bathroom faux-pas

**disclaimer: this is about bathrooms…do not read on if you don’t like people’s interactions with bathrooms**


The bathroom is a sacred place. It’s a place of solitude, a place of peace, where you can think and be alone with your thoughts. Well today, I may have taken it a bit too far. So I was in the 3rd stall today on the 10th floor men’s room, doing my thing, minding my own business. For the record, I like to zone out a bit when I’m in there. In a world of cubicles and open offices/conference rooms, it’s pretty much the only place you can go to be alone with your thoughts.

Anyways, I was in there doing some thinking (don’t judge), when I started thinking about music, specifically Meaghan Smith’s It Snowed (love that song). Playing music in my head is a nice way to pass the time, but yea, tragically it didn’t end there. By the time I realized what I was doing, I was whistling the chorus of the song. That’s when it occurred to me: I’m not the only one in the bathroom.

Ohhhh nooooo…

As a matter of fact, in the afternoon, the bathroom gets a decent amount of traffic. Great. Now what do I do?? Of course I cut off the song mid-verse (just when I got to the good part too!!) and waited…and waited…and waited. There was a chuckle by the sink, but the guy left right after. At this point, I try to use my ears to take inventory of who else is left in the bathroom. Aside from the guy at the sink, there seemed to be three other people in the bathroom. I need to wait for them to clear out, then make my daring escape.

Four minutes go by, two guys leave, talking about work on the way out. One left. Ok, since this guy’s occupied in the next stall, I surmise that it’s time to channel my inner Steve McQueen and make a great escape (sans the germans, electric fences, and a motorcycle chase…). The second I hear toilet-paper unraveling next door, I quickly flush and fly out of the stall. So stealthy and nimble was I that I had washed, dried, and departed the bathroom before the stall door closed. Ohh yea, bathroom escape ninja-turtle style. As I get back to my desk, I think of the close call from just seconds ago. *sigh* crisis averted.

SF defies logic once again.

Strap yourself in…we’re going on a rant.

This morning I had to head into san francisco to submit a visa application. I get up this morning and Sunnyvale is a nice sunny 65 degrees. Ahh…the weather was perfect, I thought as I don my flipflops and tshirt and head out bright and early to SF, giving myself a little bit of a cushion in case there’s traffic. Of course the minute I hit SF city limits the cloud appears out of nowhere and the temperature drops 15 degrees. Didn’t know overcast weather adhered to city borders.

Anyways, the consulate opens at 9am, and I arrived in town at 8:15 (yes…I like to be punctual). Perfect! I’ll just swing by Blue Bottle for a little Kyoto iced coffee to jumpstart my day. I pull into the meager (3 spaces and two are handicap only) parking lot. No open spaces. Ok…I’ll just find street parking. I pull out into the street and there was a row of open spaces…great! I pull into one…yellow (loading only). Ok, I’ll move ahead to another space…white (who knows what that means)...grrr. So I move up a few more spaces to no paint on the sidewalk and a free meter. Awesome! I get out to feed the meter when I see a that the meter had a friendly tip printed on it: Check for restrictions before feeding this meter. Oh that’s nice of them, so I look up:

No Parking from 2am-6am
No Stopping from 2pm-7pm
Passenger Loading only from 7pm-2am
No Parking on Thursdays from 4am-9am for street cleaning

Wow, if this is a space with no paint, I’d hate to see the restrictions on the ones with paint. I needed a calendar, a watch, and a magic 8-ball just to figure out the sliver of time in which I could park there. Oh and did I mention I needed $3.50 in quarters for 1 hour? After searching every crevice of my car for spare change, I was finally ready to get some coffee. I pick up the heavenly coffee in a to-go cup and think to myself…hey this day is turning out to be alright.

Too soon. Wayyy too soon.

I decide to take a brisk walk over to the consulate (it was on Market street a few blocks down). As I pass by a nice looking parking garage, I decide to glance at the rates, hoping it’d make me feel better about saving so much $$ by parking on the street. $2.75/hr. How the heck is garage cheaper than street parking?? *sigh* oh well, just keep walking.

I get to the consulate, which is in a high-rise (kinda weird, but meh…whatever works), and I check in at the ground floor. I take the elevator, which apparently makes you type in the floor you want to go to, and if you mess up, sorry, you’re going to that floor (sucks). Anyways, I get to the front door of the consulate on 24th floor, and the guard makes me sign in again, and does a body search, just in case I’m there to hurt the three admins and security guard. And that’s when they broke the news: the coffee needs to go in the trash.

WHAT???

Yep. I asked if I could just set it aside for later…nope. Can I leave it outside the door? Nope. They watched as I slowly lowered it into the garbage can. After an appropriate time of mourning, rending my garments and donning sackcloth and ashes, I was ready to submit my application. 15 minutes later, it was over. Come back in 5 business days and get your passport, only in the afternoon though.

Great, I get to see what the other end of SF rush-hour looks like. Yippee.