Still underrated

I've mentioned at least once before that I feel like the Bay Bridge gets short shrift in comparison to the prettier Golden Gate. But when the sun glints off of its steel beams at sunset, it's really quite lovely.

Searching for my attitude of gratitude

A friend in recovery used to post semi-weekly gratitude lists to Facebook, as a public way of reminding herself of the things she was grateful for during a very, very difficult time in her life. I have yet to put any of my lists on paper, but grief counseling is a little like AA, and thinking about some of the things I'm grateful for sometimes helps me keep a bad mood at bay. I've had a really rough week, but in considering some of the highlights, it really wasn't as bad as it felt.  Here's a little list:

• The weather is fantastic right now, and my bike ride on Thursday included this view:

• Two East Coast friends were in town for work this week, and I got to spend time with both of them. 
• I'm hearing a remarkable amount of Grateful Dead on the radio lately, and that always makes me smile.
• In EXACTLY two months, I'll be on the beach in Waikiki.
• Trader Joe's sells frozen cannolis. Did you know about this? They're almost as good as cannoli from North Beach, and (right now, at least) there's a box in my freezer.
• I'm working part time for a few months, and I'm incredibly grateful for both the opportunity and the awesome soundtrack in my workplace.
• My sister and brother often drive me crazy, but they're awesome people, and I am so thankful we're related. There's nobody I'd rather have on my team in this shit storm of the past few years. 
• The sun is shining. It'll go away soon, but I'm soaking up every minute while it's here.

Further (previous?) adventures in hair coloring

When I lived in DC, the best place to buy hair color was a place called Commander Salamander in Georgetown. Sadly, it no longer exists. But, in the '90s they had a pretty extensive selection of Manic Panic dyes, and I availed myself of pretty colors. But I never stripped my hair, so it wasn't always easy to tell when my hair was, say, blue or green. But it was somewhat expected around St. Patrick's Day.

After last week's post about my hair color, only one person asked for photos from my college dyeing days. Despite a thorough search of all my photo albums, I have no good photos of my green hair. In fact, I have really no good multicolored hair photos at all.

But I do have this nice little shot, clearly taken by somebody other than myself.

Yes, there's some glare, but that right there is a big pink streak. You are welcome.

It's really nobody's business, right?

After a few uncomfortable evenings earlier this month, I realized that I'm having a bad reaction to booze. My heart rate spikes, my heart pounds furiously for hours, and I just don't feel well for a few days. After just one drink. This happened after my mono debacle, and for months I was forced to drink near-beer while waiting for my system to return to normal. It's probably an anxiety issue. I'm not particularly worried about it, since it's happened before. I have no doubt I'll be back to pints of Guinness soon, but in the meantime, I'll just have a Coke, thanks.

I didn't think much of this as I went about my social obligations last week. I certainly didn't think a public proclamation of my sober state was necessary. And then, after drinking water while out with friends on Thursday, things got weird. Somebody brought me the biggest plastic to-go cup of white wine I've ever seen. After I declined a drink.

I left the full glass on the table and ignored. Somebody else eventually drank it. I got a call on Friday. Was there a reason I wasn't drinking? Was everything ok? Did I have anything I wanted to tell anyone?

Whoa. I felt like that question was looking for two answers, and good God no, I'm not pregnant. And I'm not in recovery. And, quite honestly, I don't see why anybody really cares. Because if I'm not drinking, then there's more for everyone else, right? But, since this seems to bother some people, and I'm not going to talk about the issues that might be causing this problem when I'm out in public - especially with people I'm not very close to - I've compiled a witty list of possible reasons I'm not drinking:

• I lost my liver in a card game.

• I woke up drugged in an ice-filled bathtub to learn I was the victim of an urban legend.

• I donated my liver to my sister. She promises to give it back as soon as a better donor match comes through.

• I'm converting to (insert abstaining religion here).

• I'm banned from booze at this bar after a particularly ugly table dancing incident. But please, don't let me stop you from ordering that awesome beer.

• I'm on dialysis

But I think I need some reasons with more shock value. If you've got any, please pass them on.

In my backyard

My walk last night in the Presidio was astonishingly beautiful. This weather is always so stunning, because it comes on the heels of some pretty miserably cold fog.

 Inspiration Point. I like being able to see across the Bay.

 A little rest stop on the trail.

My new friends. I've never seen a flock of lawn flamingos in such a variety of colors.

Don't judge a box by it's color

I think I mentioned a few months ago that I'd finally figured out my hair color. Yes, it's a first world problem, but silver hair does not go well with my complexion, and I'm on track to be fully gray before I'm 35, which is unacceptable.

If you're new around these parts, this is my natural hair color. I'd call it light to medium brown. The horrific overhead lighting doesn't do it justice.

Me as a redhead. Nice, no?

I was happy with the result, until I noticed that the red didn't hold up too well in the pool. I was getting brassy, and as the color would fade, the gray would emerge.  This wasn't cool. Also, once the novelty wore off, I was a little confused when I caught myself in the mirror. It was time to go back to my roots (pun absolutely intended).

This process was so much easier in college, when my choices were Manic Panic blue or green.  But matching your hair color - or desired color - to the shade on the box is not an exact science. And being somewhat poor in my unemployed state, I'm not about to fork over $100 to my stylist, no matter how much I love her. So I'm on my own.

I narrowed it down to a couple of browns in the medium light shade. I stood in the very narrow hair dye aisle at my neighborhood Walgreens for at least 10 minutes, debating, before I went with medium golden brown.

I followed the instructions, left the dye on the appropriate amount of time, and didn't permanently mar any of the white porcelain fixtures in my bathroom. And yet, I'd have to say medium golden brown, at least on my head, looks a little darker, and a lot less golden, than I'd expected.

Or a lot darker, even when I'm not wearing white and standing in my white-tiled bathroom. I'm rocking a kind of goth look right now. But I figure I've got a lock on Morticia Addams costumes in a few weeks, so I can mostly pass off my mistake as getting a head start on Halloween this year. 

Mele Kalikimaka to me

Sometime after the ink dried on my mom's death certificate, but before the shock wore off, my sister and I decided to flip Christmas the finger this year. It's been a hard holiday for a few years, given my dad's untimely departure five days before the celebration of the birth of Christ. And this year, I'm having a hard enough time with Halloween. I have neither the patience nor the requisite holiday cheer to make the Christmas season bearable.

We briefly considered some other travel destinations before agreeing that Hawaii was clearly the best place to be for un-Christmasing. We can sit on the beach in the sun, and the dreary winter weather, and preponderance of evergreens, and holiday commitments we'd force ourselves to smile through, will be thousands of miles away.

Brilliant, right?

We've just started compiling a list of things we want to do. I've got a few things hanging over my head from my last trip that I want to see or do on this one, so we'll be sure to not be drowning our sorrows in tropical drinks on Christmas day. In fact, Christmas falls on a Sunday this year. We could possibly be un-celebrating at one of my favorite places in Waikiki. But if it's not open, we're staying close by. We can visit every day. There will be ample time for sorrow drowning.

It almost seems wrong to be excited about this trip. But I am.

Oddly happy-making

As a little girl, I used to gaze in admiration at some of my mother's valuables. They were mostly very fragile things that were off limits to little hands. But I could look, and I did. On days when my mother wasn't too frazzled, she might take apart her red Matroshka and we would pull out each of the little dolls nesting inside the big one.

When I traveled to Russia in 1999, I bought two Matroshkas at an outdoor market - one for my grandma, and a little one for myself. I never expected that those two dolls would be reunited in less than a decade. And pretty soon I'll add my mom's to my collection.

It's odd, knowing that the pretty things I admired as a kid are now, well, mine (and my sister's and brother's). It's a little weird to look at photos and other things that sat for so long in my parents' house, that are now very happy in their new home. My home.

My moving truck arrived from NY earlier this week, and with it came my 12 unscathed boxes of glassware and Pyrex,  photos, my desk, and some other odds and ends. I cried a little as I washed baking pans and rearranged my apartment to accommodate my "new" furniture. But as much as I'm sad, having some things of my parents' in my house has made me really happy. Unexpectedly so. That feeling probably won't last long, but I'll run with it while I can. It's good motivation for redecorating a little as I make everything fit in my small space.

From the 11th Floor

The Sports Medicine clinic might not be the best place to hang out, but the views are spectacular. And my foot doesn't hurt this week.

My city has two bridges

I think it's fair to say that the Bay Bridge doesn't get nearly the attention of it's iconic counterpart in San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge. But for one Sunday each year. the Bridge to Bridge run puts the Bay Bridge in the same spotlight as its northern neighbor.

The race starts in the shadow of the Bay Bridge and winds 7K or 12K along the water, through Fisherman's Wharf, past Ghirardelli Square, up the hill to Ft. Mason, and along the Marina, ending at the parade grounds of the Presidio. The 12K loop turn around is under the base of the Golden Gate Bridge at Ft. Point, but I wasn't feeling up to that this morning.

The weather was spectacular; much better than anybody had forecast for this morning. And with a 9 am start, it was warm. Really warm. But the incredible weather this week prompted race organizers to add an additional water stop. I've raced at least three time in the past 18 months in unseasonably warm weather, and this is the first time race organizers have accommodated more water. I was thrilled. But since I raced the shorter distance, I wasn't too worried about hydration.

I love this race. It's close to home, the route is one of my favorites, and it's sponsored by a couple of local radio stations, so there are some fun bands at the finish line - along with free burgers and beer (though I took a pass - MGD at 10 am just didn't sound appetizing). I also like that it's mostly flat, and pretty fast. This year it was even PR worthy.

And that's got me thinking. Since my unofficial 5K PR in April, I've been hoping to get at least one more 5K race in this year. My foot is really bothering me again, but I'm taking some steps that will hopefully alleviate a lot of my discomfort. There are two local 5Ks in the next six weeks on pretty flat courses. And I like the idea of this race while I'm in DC over Thanksgiving. I'm just not sure if I should register now, or wait to see if my foot feels better. Yes, this is a first world problem, but it's a nice one to have.