Voicemails

I wish I knew how to post voicemails off my iphone.  I have gotten two hilarious ones from Bobby. The funny part is the adults.

While still in San Francisco, I got a call from what I now know was the 'JD's moving to Hong Kong' dinner (Bye JD - Have so much fun!). This message begins with Bobby announcing "Hi, Anna!" Then all I hear is Loretta in the background, "Bobby's talking to Anna right now." Then someone says "We're all taking about you, Anna!" Loretta says then asks Bobby "Is she still on the phone? Is she talking?" He says "Yeah!" Clearly, I was not on the phone and not talking to him.  There is a pause where people are talking in the background and at one point Bobby again says "Hi!" After another interval, Loretta picks up "Hello? Hello? No, she's not there anymore. She must have hung up..." The message ends. No, I didn't hang up on the 2 year old.

In tonight's message, I hear Crissy say "ay with you, Anna, and with Butterball." Then I hear Bobby begin "I want to play with..." he is then interrupted by Crissy, "Oh no, not yet." This is followed by a long pause then Crissy says, "Oh, okay. Now." Bobby then repeats his message, "I want to play with you and Butterball." There is another pause and I hear Crissy whisper "Bye, bye." Bobby dutifully parrots, "Bye, bye." He starts to say something unscripted, but it gets cut off. 

They make me laugh.

Hmmm.

If I wouldn't pay $2.99 for Internet at the Motel 6 last night, will I pay $12.99 for it tonight at the Golden Nugget? No, I don't think I will. I love my iPhone.

The Skywalker Ranch

(Photo Credit: Sarah Hunt)

Somehow during my pre-Christmas visit to San Francisco I missed the fact that David was happy to let me visit him at his office at the Skywalker Ranch. When I discovered this in Tucson, I was still undecided about going back just to see the BC game. Well as a huge Star Wars fan, my mind was immediately made up - I was returning to SF for sure! Yesterday Colby and I drove up to Marin to join David for lunch.  David even showed us around a bit. Since it felt like a private home (although it isn't) I played it cool and didn't take any pictures -- I was sure I could find some online taken by people less reverent than I. And I did, so photo credit goes to Sarah Hunt (who ever she is?).

(Photo Credit: Sarah Hunt)

The main house is a big, lovely Victorian with these fabulous cut glass front doors and a beautiful foyer. There are two small cases of Star Wars memorabilia that include character models and even a couple of light sabers. It was all very casual, like the mementos

(Photo Credit: Sarah Hunt)

that you would put on a shelf in your own home. Sort of like the glass paperweight of the James Madison stamp that adorns my bookshelf at home. Just something from a project that I worked on once. Yup, it's just the same.

The house was also adorned with wonderful paintings. I spotted three by Norman Rockwell. My favorite was a sketch of the painting Betty Lou. It is of a girl waiting outside the principal's office with a big, black eye and a smile. Clearly she has won her fight. When I pointed it out, Colby said that it reminded her of India.

This sounds silly, but I was also incredibly impressed with the light fixtures. They were all Tiffany glass and put to shame the Home Depot imitations that I have bought throughout the years. I especially loved the tulip sconces everywhere.

The property is enormous and the vistas from the house are magnificent. It is a 'Gentleman's Farm' and herds of sheep and cows are visible from the drive. I was a bit disappointed to learn that my lunch had not been killed on the premises. I was hoping for an Alice Walker experience. David also mentioned that every Thanksgiving "George" hands out Turkeys to all his employees, so when we saw wild turkeys roaming the walks I asked if there was an diabolical culling each November. "No," David said. "I'm pretty sure they get them from a nearby farm."

David actually works at the neighboring ranch, Big Rock. Also in gorgeous setting, this ranch feels more like an office building despite the lakeside terrace, the furniture that is itself art and the actual art that decorate the place. Feeling less like an interloper, we did take one picture of Colby and I. Doesn't she look super thrilled to be there? Well, I was! This was on par with my dinner with Mrs. Fendi in Rome. Awesome!

Kraft Hunger Bowl - BC Eagles vs Nevada Wolf Pack

A couple of hours before the Hunger Bowl started I learned that Joe had given up his ticket to the game. David had thought that it was an afternoon game and that it was going to conflict with Joe's  soccer. David had arranged for tickets for us through his Wolf Pack friends and now that section was sold out. Not wanting to leave my football buddy behind, I quickly got on the phone. There were tickets left, but only at the top of the stadium. I figured that one person could sneak in and sit with everyone else so I bought it and told Joe he was now coming too.  David didn't think this was the best plan, but I was confident it would work. I was wrong.

When we approached their seats I learned they were in club level boxes. The guards were checking tickets before people were even allowed on the level. "I'm never going to get in there," I quickly stated. "Joe you go sit with Anna and then we'll switch after the first quarter," David said. He and India headed off with his Wolf Pack gang and Joe and I continued up the ramp. I said to Joe that "this is karma's pay back for the really good seats we got for the 49er's game." As we were circling the stadium looking for my section, I instructed him that we just needed to look like we knew where we were going and walk straight to our seats so that no one would ask to see our tickets and realize that now he was the interloper. "Don't worry, they don't check tickets up this high," was his jaded response. I'm describing this badly and making it sound like Joe was disappointed in the seat demotion. I was feeling guilty about it, but he really didn't seem to care at all. Even before we sat down, I bought him a hot pretzel and a gallon of Sprite as part of a 'buy their love / ease your guilt' strategy that I learned from my mother.

David's friends had arrived with Wolf Pack beads and Joe was sporting a set of them when the game started. As soon as BC scored the opening touchdown and we took a short-lived lead, Joe quietly slipped them off his neck and subtly dropped them to his side. I didn't say anything, but it was a proud moment as both an aunt and an Eagle fan. We were having a great time and when David called to offer the proposed seat swap we both said we were happy where we were. It was like sitting in the bleachers. There was a fun, ever changing, rowdy crowd and Joe's young eyes were able to see the field so well that he was calling fouls before the refs threw their flags. Joe was even explaining the basics of football to four young Australian girls behind us, tourists who had bought the tickets on a whim.

The stadium was packed with Nevada fans and right before the fourth quarter they had the stands shaking with their "Wolf... Pack! Wolf... Pack!" chant. I took a little video. It doesn't show any thing, but listen to the chant. It was... intimidating.

During the last two minutes of the game, with Nevada ahead by one touchdown, BC was throwing the ball and Nevada got two pass-interference calls in a row. The penalties were moving us down the field faster then our players and Joe started to heckle the Nevada fans. "That's right! Keep fouling us and we're gonna win this thing!" He was shouting at the top of his lungs. Clearly the spirit of our section had infected him. A Nevada fan a couple of rows back was responding with a less articulate "BC sucks! Go Nevada!" Another pass, a third foul and Joe was on his feet and at it again. "Foul! Pass interference! Go Eagles! We got this!" The Nevada fan once again informed us that "BC sucks!" I looked around at our section and quietly reminded Joe, "We are seriously out numbered and surrounded by drunken Nevada college students. If we actually win this thing we are going to have to sneak out of here..." Well, that wasn't necessary. Despite the relatively close score, Nevada dominated throughout the game and BC lost. Nevertheless, we had a great time.

The game even had a streaker -- possibly a first for Boston College. I wish I had remembered to bring my camera!

a quick note.

While I was getting dressed this morning, I saw my Notre Dame tee shirt. This is the shirt that I picked up when I stopped in South Bend. It is supper comfy, I like the color and it fits well -- it's become a fav. After attending my first BC football game in ages last night, I seem to be once again back in the groove. I looked at the Notre Dame logo with disdain and put the shirt aside. Go Eagles!

San Diego and LA

Okay, the eels were also kinda cool.

Tunnel of water through
the shark tank. It reminded
me of Vegas.

The first thing I did when I got to San Diego was visit Sea World. I'm not  sure why... Shocked by the $65 ticket price, I felt trapped and forced to stay longer than I originally planned in an effort to get my money's worth. Crissy very accurately described it as a "fish prison." I had no interest in the rides and the Shamu show was closed, so I ended up at the dolphin and seal/sea lion shows.  They were like Disney events. I wasn't really paying attention to the plot, there was something about a princess and her dolphin friend being chased by an evil pirate. I much prefer an informational show about the animals, i.e. "the bottle nosed dolphin can swim at speeds up to xx mph and jump x feet in the air. Now we will have them demonstrating these feats." This was not that. The Vancouver aquarium was much, much better. Sea World is clearly meant just for the kids. There by myself, I felt like a pedophile. I will admit that I liked petting the sting rays. That was cool.

Look -- I have bangs! Oh, and there is a panda behind me.

After my expensive and disappointing time at Sea World, I almost skipped the San Diego Zoo. But having heard repeatedly that this is one of the best zoos in the world, I decided to gamble another kid centered experience. I am really glad that I did. Let me preface this by saying that I love zoos. I know a lot of people think that they are also animal prisons, but have always been a big fan of them. The summer before we moved to Rome, I worked at the Bronx Zoo in the day camp. My co-workers were all vet students (I was there through good, old fashion nepotism) and I learned a huge amount about the zoo and their conservation efforts. After the zoo closed one night I even got to play catch with an endangered monkey-type animal. (That summer, while having lunch in the South Bronx, was the first time that I ever noticed a police officer wearing a bullet proof vest. His chest was so big and tight around his shirt that his arms looked like twigs sticking out from the billowing sleeves.) Here's a fun fact I bet you didn't know: they keep an armory at the zoo in case any of an animal escape. They also have monthly target practice in the parking lot. Apparently firing an elephant gun is a skill that you need to keep well honed.

When I first got to the San Diego zoo I took the tour bus that travels all around the 75 acre park and points out the highlights. Let's Go recommended this as a good way to get your bearings and figure out what you want to see. They even suggested seating, "Everyone scrambles to sit on the upper deck of the bus, but from there all you see are the trees branches. Sit down stairs and, if possible, on the right side of the bus." Boy were they right! I actually felt a little guilty about all the kids who were sitting on the far left side of the bus. Not enough to offer one of them the seat that I had pre-scouted out, but still a little guilty.  On the bus we drove past a long line in front of the Panda Exhibit. "Don't worry, that line will be almost gone by 3pm" our driver informed us. I looked at my watch and it was 1:30 pm. "Perfect, I can wander around, have lunch and catch the panda's right before I leave," I thought.  This was a great plan until I walked past the panda's at 3:30 and saw the line as long as ever. Instead of waiting, I continued exploring. I kept checking back and the line was never ending. At 4:45 p.m. I decided that it was getting late and I needed to get on line or skip it. It turned out to be the perfect time to see them -- the line took 20 minutes and when I got in, the pandas were all awake and active. That was a first for me. The last time I saw panda's (D.C. in high school), they were asleep and barely visible. It was so great that I even took a little video:

The best part of LA were the tours of the movie studios. I did both Warner Brother's and Paramount. The Warner Brother's lot has a museum with an entire floor dedicated to Harry Potter. This was especially significant after my time with Jack Markus. "Who is your favorite Hogwart's professor?" I was asked more than once during my San Francisco visit. The museum even has a sorting hat like the one from the books/movies. You sit on the stool and they place it over your head (being careful not to actually touch you). When I sat down it declared "Hmmm... what house should I put you in? You're a difficult one!" I thought, "Well this is right out of the book. Clearly it's going to put me in Harry Potter's house, Gryffindor. It probably puts everyone there." The hat continued, "I think the House for you is in the loyal house of... HUFFELPUFF!" Huffelpuff??? Unbelievable. That's one of the crappy, boring ones. Oh well. Some how I managed to continue on. Before my tour group left the museum, I thought to ask if it was possible to visit the Harry Potter exhibit without taking the entire two hour tour. Colby and the kids should definitely see this, but they really don't need to spend their time driving around the back lot. "Not unless you know someone who works here and they give you a pass," was the response from the unfriendly WB employee. "Hi, I'm Anna," I said smiling at him and offering my hand. He didn't get the joke. The gift shop had fabulous wands for sale and I was so tempted to buy them for the kids that I even asked one of the women to look in the store room to see if they had any more Dumbledore wands (he's got the good one, the elder wand.) Realizing that were $40 each and that I would have to get three, I reconsidered the $120 purchase as soon as she left. By the time she got back, I had changed my mind. I snuck out after buying only a tee shirt that declared, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" It seemed appropriate.

At the Paramount lot, I was on a tour with a German family and one other man. When we stopped to watch the filming of a scene from NCIS, we waited and waited for something to happen before our tour guide suggested that we move on. The Germans didn't respond and looked slightly befuddled, but the other gentleman stated quite firmly that he wanted to stay. I mumbled that I thought "watching filming was a bit like watching paint dry." This was despite the fact that I was the only one who was able to point out any of the actors. Mr. 'I-want-to-stay' had no clue and our tour guide admitted sheepishly that he had never watched the show. "Do you work in the industry?" he asked after I pointed out a confused looking Chevy Chase ambling around. "Oh no, I just watch a lot of TV."

I almost forgot to mention my visit to the Getty! The museum is wonderful, but the view and building are spectacular.  I was there in the late afternoon, so I got to enjoy an magnificent sun set over the coast. It was a great last stop for my first trip to Los Angeles.

No photoshop - I swear!

I've been a bad blogger

It's been getting some flack for neglecting my blog. I had put it aside during my stay in San Francisco, but now I'm back on the road and I have promised to start back up. So in that spirit, I went out and bought a six pack of Bud Light. I have found that Hemingway had the right idea -- alcohol makes the words flow.

I did lots of fun stuff in San Francisco, but mostly I just hung out with Colby and the kids. Despite Colby and David's initial suggestions of weekend trips and fancy restaurants, I  ended up vegging out, watching a lot of tv and reading Harry Potter to the kids.

Here's the fund stuff that I did do:

I arrived on Joe's 11 birthday, so as a present I bought the two of us tickets to a 49er's game. It the first time I have attended a professional football game  (not Joe's), so I splurged and got us fabulous seats -- I wanted to be able to see and didn't want to sit in nose bleed (a Black Swan reference for Mike) seats. When we arrived, I learned that Candlestick Park is a super small stadium and I don't think there is a bad seat in the house. There is certainly not a nose bleed section.  Eh, the fabulous seats were worth it. It was especially fun because the 49er's were playing the Seahawks and I got to root for former BC quaterback Matt Hassleback. (Btw, Tim and Elizabeth's daughter is now a Marymount student.) He had a terrible day and the 49er's, despite their pathetic record, won decisively. It was Christmas so we also got cheerleaders dressed in slutty little Santa outfits. I thought it looked like they sat on enormous marshmallows.

11 year old boys have a lot of energy.

Also for Joe's birthday, I accompanied the entire Markus clan to 'House of Air,' an enormous trampoline park. India, Joe and ten of his friends spent an hour playing dodge ball on a giant trampoline. Jack, limited by age restrictions, spent a happy hour in the bouncy castle. At one point while I was hangin' at the castle with Jack, I heard a chant of "India! India! India!" Apparently she was the 'last man standing' in the dodge ball game and Joe's friends were offering her their very vocal support!

c. 1988 (?)

For Christmas, I helped decorate the Markus family Christmas tree (actually, it was Leola's old faux tree that she insisted I  buy for her [internet shopping at it's best] after Oprah recommend it) and I joined India and Jack for Gingerbread House decorating at their school. We also met up with new San Francisco resident Brewster Smith for a tour of some of the Nob Hill Christmas lights and other seasonal sights. Brewster is from Bronxville and he and Colby dated during their Junior (?) year of high school. Once again, thank god I scanned all my mom's pictures or you would miss this fabulous one from the St. Vincent's Dance. My mother loved to come home and see the three of us sitting around the kitchen table. "Uhhhh, I'm blinded by all the red hair!" she would exclaim raising her had to shield her eyes. Same thing, every time. Amongst our Christmas lights tour group we had five red heads. Sadly, I didn't think to get a picture of us all. :(

 I also enjoyed christmas shopping in Union Square and around San Francisco.  On Thanksgiving I found myself without the appropriate shoes to wear (the name of this blog is hyperbole) and this was just the excuse I needed to go out and buy multiple new pairs... and maybe a couple of sweaters... and a dress or two...  oops.

For Christmas we traveled to Tucson, Arizona to spend the holiday with David's father Bill and his wife Linda, along with other family members. Knowing that everyone on the East Coast was bracing for the big storm, made our swim at the tennis club on Christmas day all that much sweeter. Unfortunately I was punished for my insolence -- Loretta was supposed to come visit for a trip to the Grand Canyon but was delayed and delayed until she finally got canceled and I got an extended visit to Tucson.

Here's a video that Colby took on her new Christmas present iPhone (from yours truly) of India enjoying Christmas Day with Uncle Steve, Dad and Jack:

I headed to San Diego, which I promise to post about tomorrow. Now I have to go to bed. I have a early reservation to tour Paramount Studios tomorrow.

Walgreen's

I went to the Walgreen's today and saw something unusual. Half the store is under lock and key, but not the usual stuff. The things people might be too embarrassed to buy, condoms and epts, were out in the open. The pricey but small things someone might easily steal, like razor blades, were also unlocked. Even the bigger high ticket items, like hair dryers, were easy to access. But my shampoo was behind a plastic barrier. To get to the Lubriderm I needed to call someone over. In order to restock my toiletries I needed an escort around the store. It was like having a personal shopper. Colby termed my neighborhood as the 'Tender-Nob.' "Actually, it's more tender than nob..." she declared after visiting. I'm starting to thing she might be right.

Don't panic

I removed most of my photo 'slide shows.' My computer was taking forever to load the blog page and it was annoying me, so I figured this might help.  Don't worry, if you missed anything I've still got them all on picassa!

Huh.

While sitting outside in my fake garden/apartment building back alley, writing my previous, ridiculously long post I heard a weird 'thimpthimpthimpthimp-ing' noise. I looked over and a hummingbird was attending to the four flowers that have survived the record cold temperatures. "Huh. I thought they were only in the tropics."

My first instinct was to take a picture, but my camera was inside and I knew moving would scare it off. (This picture is from google images, but the flower is the same!) As it slowly hovered closer to my head, it started to freaked me out and so my second instinct was to swat at it like a fly. Clearly I would make a terrible ornithologist.

Sibling rivalry

Did she intentionally knock over my sippy cup? Hard to say.

Colby and I have been getting along well since I've been out here. I've been trying to give her space and not annoy her and she (I'm sure) is working hard not to get annoyed. So far we have been successful and have avoided any fights and even snapping at each other. At diner the other night one of her friends, a mom, asked how old we were before we started being friends. Colby and I paused. I was sure that this mother was curious about her own children and how long it would be before they stopped hitting each other, so I was applying the question to our childhood. I thought "we started to get along when we realized that we had a common enemy: our mother." Colby answered differently, "after our mother die," she said succinctly. "Oh, she means our current wave of compatibility? Well, that's a daily effort," I thought.

When I moved to Rome, it was the first time that I made friends that didn't already know Colby. I was still in high school and living with my parents, so an absent family member didn't register like it would at college. These were friends who knew my family, listened to my gripes and hung out at my house. Until Colby came to visit for Christmas, it hadn't occurred to me that they hadn't witnessed our real family dynamic. One evening a group of my friends were over, meeting Colby for the first time. We were sitting in the living room when she and I headed to the kitchen with some plates. A very normal (for us anyway) round of snapping and verbal backhands commenced that I thought nothing about until I turned to leave and found Marco standing outside the door holding some glasses. He had a horrified look on this face and whispered "Is everything all right?" "Sure. Why?" I responded. He nodded towards my sister. I shrugged but thought "What? This is us getting along." We all returned to the group, no differently than before. He retold the story later. "Anna has a dark side. I've never seen her go for the jugular like that. Don't get her angry..." he regaled with a new found respect. All I could think was, "Boys! They have no idea what a real fight is. He should see us when we're trying to inflict damage."

While we were both in college, Colby and I were relatively good friends. We both even traveled to visit each other at our respective schools.  (That was the infamous time when Colby looked around the BC campus and said "Could you have found a more homogeneous place to go to school?" She was comparing Irish Catholic BC to the much more Jewish and international UPenn and found us lacking; that is, until that evening. I answered a pounding on my door to 'spring game' drunk Stalin, who proceeded to lift me over his shoulder and spin me around. [Since my days as a small child, Stalin is the only person who has ever lifted me off the ground, and remarkably he's done it more than once!] "Come upstairs, we're having a party," he insisted. Upstairs Colby met an equally drunk Rupert, who leered and immediately suggested "You come sit by me..." "You wanted diversity," I chuckled to her 'deer in the headlights' expression. My boys... they have excellent timing! xoxo)

After college she moved to San Fransisco and we grew apart, talked less and less, and when we fought it was always a doozy. When you don't have to interact on a daily or even regular basis, you choose if you want a person to be a part of your life. And as our fights got worse, we basically made that decision and stopped talking. (Obviously it was more complicated than that, but we'll leave those details for a more appropriate venue.) We didn't start speaking regularly again until my mother got sick. While we once got along fighting against my mother, and then fought about my mother, now we were working hard to get along for my mother.

It was also becoming clear that the only person who will ever really understand my family dynamic is the one other person who grew up with it. And after Leola died, Colby and I were all we had left of that shared history. We started being nice to each other.

We proceed by baby steps. She stayed on the East Coast while we worked together cleaning out the house. I traveled to San Fransisco to visit for a long weekend. Last year we successfully navigated Christmas at her house and this summer I spent a week with her and the kids on the lake. Each visit we have slowly increased the time we spend in each others' company. Before deciding to rent an apartment and stay in San Fransisco for an extended period, I called and asked her if she thought it was a good idea. Not "will I enjoy San Fransisco?" but, "will we kill each other/permanently ruining our relationship, if we are around one another that much." Like I said, baby steps.

Well, so far so good. But, I have noticed a trend beginning.

We throw Leola references at each other like wrestlers whacking one another over the head with folding metal chairs. "Wow, that was a Leola move," I'll say. "Your car smells like mom's" she'll retaliate. I guess some instincts never completely go away... but now we have a new weapon: the subtly implied, "You're turning into mom." Horror!

Don't need that fourth friend now!

I just downloaded 'Setback' (aka Pitch) to my iPhone. Guess what I'm going to be doing all day tomorrow...

**Update** Turns out that you can name all the players and add pictures. I have spent my evening yelling at my partner Loretta. 'Cuz if you're going to outbid your own partner, you've gotta be able to support it!! Although we've held our own during most of the game, her negative three allowed Chris and Crissy to catch up and win. :(

Free stuff.

The View is doing a theme show this morning: 'How to get Free Stuff.' They just interviewed a women who was talking about the judicious use of coupons and all the free food that you can earn. She advised combining store coupons, manufacturer's coupons and sales to get lots of groceries at absolutely no cost. It reminded me of a visit to Star Market in Boston years ago. Rachel and I were waiting in line and the old lady in front of me was holding up the line, combining her 'rain-checks' and coupons - she managed to buy food that could last for a week for $2.49 (I remember she bought lots of pasta and, oddly, multiple bags of baby carrots). I was buying beverages: Diet Coke and Crystal Light. I spent $45.00.

BTW - I am watching the View this morning because it seems weird to watch the Thanksgiving Parade on tape delay...

Busted!

Yesterday Joe looked at my tee-shirt and said "I don't understand. Aren't BC and Notre Dame rivals?" Colby came to my defense reminding Joe that when you drive back and forth across the country, you get sick of all your clothes and therefore end up wearing what you buy on the road. I knew that there is no excuse, and I hung my head -- 3,000 miles away from my demographic and, still, I got busted by an 11 year old.

Kinda ironic...

When you're a young(ish), urban dweller, you gather up your laundry, scrounge around for quarters and head down to your apartment building's basement. You put your darks in one machine, lights in another, perhaps using a third for the red tee-shirt that you are too scared to wash with anything else, and the double loader for your duvet. Forty minutes later and you switch it all into dryers (this time, you gamble and throw the red T in with the darks saving you're self $2 and, as importantly, 8 quarters...). After an hour and a half, your laundry is washed, dried and (hopefully) folded back in your apartment.

Then you grow up, have kids and move to a house in the 'burbs. You now have your own washer and dryer. No more watching the minutes to make sure that the person waiting in the wings isn't removing your clothes and dumping them to the side the moment your laundry cycle is over. No more crappy machines running your shirts or finding random beach stains on your jeans.

But now the amount of laundry you have has quadrupled and you only have one machine! Laundry takes HOURS. Each load is a separate process. It becomes an all day, never ending issue. Finally, an explanation for why my friends who have kids are always doing laundry (or about to do laundry, or need to do laundry...)!

Yes, this is a vast generalization. But, I have just washed everything I brought cross country with me in one machine and it made me think about this irony. 'Cuz doing my laundry just took fooooorrreeevvvvveeerrrrrrr!