Dreaming in Color

Last night, I dreamed about mousing over pages on the Internet.

My sleep brain even has ads.

Which is weird because I use Adblock.

Wacky.

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America's Pastime

I *hated* baseball growing up. Grandpa Jack and Grandma Mary always had the radio on on the background when we visited. Constant noise.

Daddy played in college. That's how he got the scar that kept him out of 'nam. In hindsight, I should probably have loved the game more than I originally did. But I was a child, so I was just confused as to why my huge father played baseball instead of football, which he preferred as a spectator.

When brother played little league, I had to be a scorekeeper. I had to mark the runs, the errors, the hits, etc. It had its own symbolic language, which was cool, but it required me to pay attention to my younger brother and his friends rather than going off to play with the other kids, which was not cool. Thank goodness E2 was subject to the same scorekeeping duty on behalf of her brother's team (or perhaps they were on the same team, I can't recall) -- but I do think that's where we originally cemented our friendship, between the hits and errors.

Once, when I was small, Dad took me to a Giant's game with our local Indian Princesses group. Frankly, it was scary. Loud. Big people. Lots of Orange and White. I do remember Candlestick Park though. I thought that was a very cool name for a park.

In college, I knew a few baseball players, and I decided it was a solid sport. They worked hard. They were cocky when good, but humble when bad. Overall, I started to develop a soft spot for the sport.

My first employer had season tickets to the Giants and I developed a healthy respect for the game. I even watched a few college players from CAL make their early careers after I graduated. (ASIDE -- HOW COULD CAL HAVE ELIMINATED BASEBALL AS AN NCAA SPORT?)

When the Giants played the Angels in the world series, I got to go to a game with my employer. It was amazing.

And then, the Giants fell off my radar.

I focused on my life and they did their thing.

Until this year.

When my step-dad showed up to drop off his trailer to attend the first NLCS game and brought me back a good-luck hat.

I've been wearing that hat and watching games whenever I can ever since.

I've celebrated Giants wins this year at my Mom's house, Kapp's, home, the Grand Wailea, and McTeague's.

Tonight, amongst the crowd at Kapp's, E and I celebrated the win with an adorable local couple who've had season tickets for 32 years. The number of pins on their hats? Amazing.

And, as it's all progressed, I've finally become a true baseball fan. What a game! I love it -- the numbers, the data, the athleticism, the drama, the americana, and the esoterica. I look forward to next season!

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Wonderful Weekend

A beautiful wedding ceremony for The Enforcer in Tilden Park where the rain waited until after the ceremony to fall.

Hours of catching up with old friends at the wedding celebration.

Dim Sum with family and friends.

Wine tasting with girlfriends in Sonoma.

A delicious Portuguese dinner at La Sallette.

A long walk along the San Francisco Bay Trail followed by mediterranean food.

A long chat with a good friend on the phone to catch up.

Watching the Giants win their third World Series Game while handing out candy to witches, goblins, and ghosts.

Is it any surprise that the return to Monday normal is a bit difficult this morning...

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Identity

I'll never forget the moment at my grandfather's funeral when the pastor referred to my Uncle's professional feats, and then attributed them to my Dad. He claimed Papa (my grandfather) was so proud of my Dad (who, of course, was actually my uncle, by feats).

The old folks in attendance nodded, some touching the outsides of their eyes with kerchiefs.

I watched as my Dad and my Uncle silently refused to interrupt the ceremony with a correction.

Papa was more to the old folks than either Daddy or Uncle. Daddy and Uncle both knew that. They also both knew that if, at some point in the future, it came up with the old folks, they could gently correct them, and they'd acquiesce, blaming feeble memories. They also knew that all of us young folks understood the mistake (as we squirmed in the extra-awkwardness of the "oh-you're-his granddaughter!" or "oh-you're-his-grandson!" existence).

So Daddy slipped a bit into Uncle and Uncle slipped a bit into Daddy, each giving their permission to share their lives with each other, I suppose as brothers do, on behalf of their father.

Watching, as a daughter of Daddy, I was amazed at the slithering identity snake of this family. When you are your most vulnerable, it bites you.

So, no. I guess it's no surprise that I didn't officially change my last name (yet, if ever).

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And there you have it

I'm back from vacation.

My neck no longer hurts, but I'm still very much looking forward to our big, huge, international trip-to-come. Too bad it's not this month. Or even next month. Bummer...

In other news, Penelope Trunk's most recent post explains one of my largest personality flaws as belonging to all folks that have my Meyer's Briggs:


ENTJs (what Penelope is, and depending on the test, what I am, unless I'm an INTJ) have trouble with tact. They lack a sensitivity that many people require in order to listen.

I find this comforting. I'm trying hard not to question what the comfort says about me.

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A Perfect First Day of Vacation

After 15 months without a true escape from everyone vacation (visits to family do not count, in my book), E and I spent yesterday relaxing and enjoying the Hawaii in what may be the best first day of vacation I've ever had.

We woke to a 5:15 AM wake up call (yay, time zone change in our favor), took a cab to Diamond Head State Monument and hiked to the top to watch the sunrise.

Then, we hiked back down, and walked the 5 miles or so back to our hotel along the beach, with a stop for the first of many Onigiri snacks for the trip. Mmmm... salmon rice triangle for breakfast.

From there, we checked out chairs and towels and read on the beach 'til it was time for lunch. Thanks to yelp, we found our way to Menchanko Tei for a delicious and filling lunch of Shoyu Ramen for E and Menchanko for me.

The afternoon passed slowly with leisurely souvenir shopping, a trip to the pool to read, a shiatsu massage, and a drink to enjoy the amazing view at House Without a Key.

From there, we walked to a teppanyaki to reminisce of dinners past at Kobe Japanese Steak House. We finished the night with the walk back to our hotel and a drink at the awesomely kitchy Top of Waikiki revolving restaurant, and some final relaxation on our balcony (with another rice triangle for E) to enjoy the night lights and sound of the ocean.

Could I be any more relaxed?

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New Favorite Potato Salad

I don't usually love potato salad -- probably because it's typically a lackluster presentation of dense calorie mush without much taste.

But a few nights ago, I cleaned out the fridge and found this concoction to be absolutely delicious:

Dill Pickle Potato Salad

-1/2 pint of home-made dill pickles with cumin and mustard seeds in the brine
-1/2 bunch fresh dill
-2 extra-large russet potatoes, boiled, peeled, and diced to 1-2 cm^3
-1/2 small red onion, diced
-1 cup pickled nopales (with the associated onions and jalapenos)
-1/4 cup capers and their juice
-6 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and diced
-olive oil
-salt and pepper

1. pulse onions, pickles, nopales, and dill until it is a nice relish
2. Mix relish with potatoes, eggs, and capers until evenly mixed
3. Drizzle with olive oil and salt and pepper to taste, mix evenly

Enjoy immediately, or chilled for the next few days.

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