Thursday, December 30, 2010

lucky 17

17 submissions, that is.  Peddling a short story of mine for publication.  Submitted it online, email and U.S. mail.  It's a toss-up between doing this and doing my taxes.  Which one do I enjoy less?  Hmm...  Hard to say.  One has the potential to end in a cash refund!  The other, a potential, nay, a certainty, to end in tears. Encouraging comments welcomed, but please, please no reminders of how many rejection slips famous authors received before they became published.  Also include an SASE and no phone calls please.

Monday, December 27, 2010

20 days later

Don't let the lengthy lapse in posts fool you.  I haven't been busy doing fun things.  Unless you count sleeping in fun.  I do.

But I did make a plan to submit some writing before the end of the year.  I pushed it off to the bitter end but I will do it.  And now I have to do it.  It's really just a matter of sitting down at the computer at home, slow as it is, and submit the little bugger (a short story). Unless they want it snail mail then it's preparing envelopes and SASEs.  (As a self-deprecating sidebar, I once looked up "SASE" in the dictionary because I didn't know what it stood for.)  And yeah, I did feel stupid.  Can't know everything, I guess.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010


Ever had one of those zombie-like days in which you're just going through the motions of life and then your realize it's been more like a week?  And what the hell have you been doing? 

Just me?  OK then.  Meanwhile, here are some pretty flowers.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

somewhere else

I hope a real photographer with a real camera got a shot of the morning sky today.  It was much more pink than my crappy camera phone shows.

Looking at that sky felt like being somewhere else. 

Monday, November 29, 2010

breakfast, lunch

It was snap-frozen cold this morning, but the lake looked so serene, contemplative.  A few brave grebes and coots skimmed the surface, for breakfast, I presume.  The hard-core bootcampers by the pergola did static lunges on blue tarp: crazy or dedicated?

I just walked faster to the relief of the warm carpool.  Sadly, it's not warm yet in the office.  I've pulled on my coat and have a blanket around my legs like an old storyteller.  I can only tell myself about the story of microwaved meatloaf and roasted vegetables for lunch.

Monday, November 22, 2010

A season of waiting

So few rainbow leaves here,
Ours are mostly brown, dry.
Pink stretched clouds overhead,
Washed air, washed sidewalks,
Sharp gritty steps behind me.

A season of waiting, lying low
Begins again: repeat, repeat, repeat.
Stay behind or leave behind,
Your choice.  Pick what’s left over.

On my nightstand, a blue-capped plastic bottle
The cross worn off, holy water and superstition.
Blessing for your journey, for my journey
To dream under warm covers in a cold room.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

things I will do to avoid writing

1.  thoroughly vacuum apartment
2.  put winter comforter on bed
3.  balance checkbook
4.  repot amarylis bulb
5.  turn on TV
6. wander around apartment looking for any chore that will avoid revising and typing up writing
7. blog about avoiding writing
8. next:  Facebook

Friday, November 19, 2010

fur and fury

Pictured are the cats sharing the top tier of their cat tree, gazing out the window at the rainy morning.  How they're maintaining peace is beyond my imagination.  Murph wedged his 15-lbs. self next to Cleo, but there was no hissing, no growling.  They are actually touching each other. 

A sign of the apocalypse, perhaps?  Are they waiting for the first few horsemen to come riding in and then they'll go out in a ball of fur and fury?

Thursday, November 18, 2010

wherever you are

Today you would have been 88, Grandma!  Happy Birthday, wherever you are. 

I miss you.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010


Feeling a little lop-sided today, so how about a literary quote? From Cervantes, no less!

"Just then they came in sight of thirty or forty windmills that rise from that plain. And no sooner did Don Quixote see them that he said to his squire, "Fortune is guiding our affairs better than we ourselves could have wished. Do you see over yonder, friend Sancho, thirty or forty hulking giants? I intend to do battle with them and slay them. With their spoils we shall begin to be rich for this is a righteous war and the removal of so foul a brood from off the face of the earth is a service God will bless."

"What giants?" asked Sancho Panza.

"Those you see over there," replied his master, "with their long arms. Some of them have arms well nigh two leagues in length."

"Take care, sir," cried Sancho. "Those over there are not giants but windmills. Those things that seem to be their arms are sails which, when they are whirled around by the wind, turn the millstone."

Settle down. I don't intend to do battle with any windmills. I've done it before.  They will kick your ass.

Monday, November 15, 2010

the last one

Really?  Again?  I had just gotten over the last one.

Please change your mind.  Just don't.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

full stop

The bridge quivers when you're standing still; the wind I suppose.  There was no sense of urgency.  Some people wandered around, a rare chance to be on the bridge.  Many went right to check out the new bridge, blooming into life from steel and concrete. 

We all made it across, grateful to be moving.  Now just another day begins, a little late.  And I'm not in handcuffs in the back of a police car like the man who caused all this.  Thanks, good mental health!

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

smoke up, America

Let's get political for just a moment. I was thrilled to read this. And boo-hoo to the tobacco companies. 

I think wording that England uses ("Smoking can cause a slow and painful death") is more to the point than USA's relatively milk-toast warnings.

Photo: London, steps of the Tube, 2006

Monday, November 8, 2010


I don’t know about you, but I think I was born wired to not trust the good – waiting for big dog to run across the blanket and destroy a picnic lunch, looking for rain clouds to move in and ruin a long-awaited day at the amusement park, or any other generic pessimist's scenario you can dream up.

Then I grew up and realized what a colossal waste of time that was. I learned to enjoy happy moments as they unfolded, absorbing them like a warm light. Once in a while though, that little girl, who is me, peeks in, taking me back to the day at a playground when my mother asked “Didn’t you like the ride? You didn't smile once.” I answered: “I was just thinking about how sad I’m going to be when it’s over.”

Sheesh. What a morose kid!

Sunday, November 7, 2010

don't ask


I pierced the man's shadow with the tip of my umbrella,
pulling apart my rubbery, chapped lips
to say excuse me. He didn’t turn.
I hadn’t spoken – a crow flew down
and ripped the words from my beak-like lips.
She cleaned out a Styrofoam container next
and spat my words on the ground by a crushed beer can.
Before he could get away, I left my shiny sharp friend
to her preening and copied his walk step for step,
flexing my hands, dry and scaly.
The turn through the revolving door was like sex,
when you both thrust the same direction.
We were connected for that moment,
our electricity passing through steel and glass –
mine shocking pink that moves straight for his groin
and his a hazy cornflower blue that slides off my shoulders,
pooling at my ankles.

Inside, I tell the desk guard he’s my brother,
that I’m fresh from a Greyhound
for a Columbus Day surprise.
He one-eyeballs me while stamping the guest badge
with the earth date, the one we all have to follow.
I press the adhesive slab below my belt –
“sell by date” I say and stare at his placid empty face.
I spend some time preparing in the women’s toilet --
meditating, chewing gum, changing socks.
Two girls enter talking low about an office enemy
and they freeze when they see me doing deep knee bends.
“Ladies, do you get enough calcium?” I ask them.

Written 2009. I really don't know what this is, except weird.

Friday, November 5, 2010


Beetle, posing
Originally uploaded by jeesau
My expectations need to be dialed down a bit. But like my toaster, even though the setting is on "light" the toast almost burns every time if you don't stand over it and watch.

And the photo? Well, he seems to manage his expectations of life just fine. He's a beetle. He hasn't any.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

somewhere over Nova Scotia

The 5000-mile gap is closing.

Monday, November 1, 2010

funny about Sundays... Sunday you're sitting around a table in the desert eating dinner with new friends, and the next, you're playing pool with The Cookie Monster.

Funny about Sundays, funny about life.

Sunday, October 31, 2010


Marianne was often kissed at parties in junior high school. It couldn’t be helped. She had a way of combing her long auburn hair and arranging it on her shoulders and down her back that drew the boys’ eyes to her like a girlie magazine left accidentally on a desk in a father’s study. The kisses usually came at her in a sudden rush – a quick peck as she chose a cookie from the cut-glass platter. Her lips, dressed heavily in Bonnie Bell rootbeer lip gloss would find themselves for a moment joined to the quivering dry lips of boys: Johnny Tewilliger, Jacob Hirsch or Donald Farquar.

Marianne, stunned, simply blinked at them and offered a little grin, a thank-you, polite as she was. Another way the boys snatched her kisses was when she pulled on her red and green plaid wool coat, her arms temporarily occupied and her curtain of hair partially hiding her face. The boys hid their cowardice behind her hair and leaned in to peck her on the lips, which were now free of rootbeer glaze and were stained with Hawaiian punch, and her breath scented with peanut butter cookies. Marianne never minded but she never understood why she was often kissed at junior high parties.

Friday, October 29, 2010


Waking up first, I savored the minutes alone. Slanted morning light covered the kitchen table and I chose the chair that would let the sun warm my back. I made myself a simple breakfast of 12-grain toast with butter and honey and a strong cup of espresso. I alternated bite and sip, bite and sip, letting the honey coat my tongue and the deep, earthy espresso wash it away. Each triangle of toast was gone in four bites and I greedily considered toasting the last two sliced and telling him we were out of bread. Just then, I heard the rush of the pipes as the shower kicked on across the house so I abandoned my plan. The morning light had risen to warm my head so I changed seats and let the cat have my spot. She blinked and sniffed the pale yellow and let it warm her blue-black fur, dust particles floating near her whiskers. She meditated before settling down to nap.

The click of the gas stove nudged me back into the moment and I saw him standing at the stove testing the level of the tea kettle. His hair was towel-dried, graying curls at his neck, emitting its salty lavender scent. Like the cat, I turned my head toward him and sniffed the air, then, slow blink, slow blink. His smile turned into a yawn and he covered it with the back of his hand.

“What did you have? Toast?” he asked, approaching the table and looking down at my masterpiece of crumbs on my favorite plate: red apples with brown birds.

“With honey.” I replied, raising the bear from the table, supplied as evidence.

“Ah. Any more of that bread?” I stood and extended my arms and pulled him towards me.

“Two slices, just for you.” I said breathing against his warm, showered shoulder. He returned my embrace and pressed his lips to my temple, my hair still wild from bed, unwashed.

“Lovely.” he said.

Written 10/26/2010

Thursday, October 28, 2010


I wish you hadn’t done that.
Looked across the bar at me
and stared as you sipped your beer.
I felt like a specimen, trashy,
with too much jewelry
and too little sobriety.
I wish you hadn’t smiled like that,
slowly. A grin spreading across your face
like a bit of paper picked up by a breeze.
I had no choice. I smiled back
and oddly studied my own glass,
the beer foam drying around the rim,
as though I were begging for a refill.
Really, I wish you hadn’t.

(written at the High Desert Retreat, October 2010)

Wednesday, October 27, 2010


prickly hearts
Originally uploaded by jeesau
Bits and pieces from today:

Heard on the street: "Outside of work, I'm a nice guy."
"...going as a slutty Chilean miner." Not sure how one would pull that one off, but hey, it's topical.

My spirit seems to be sufficiently broken now that my days off are over and I'm back from the desert. Funny how a job can do that to a person. No more howling coyotes at night, no more cocktails by the pool. Sigh. Big sigh.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

the bean

I'm off the bean again. Too much coffee over several days or weeks equals stomach pain. Waaah. Was it worth it? Eh. Not so sure. Hard to quit cold turkey though. Tea just doesn't have the kick I'm looking for. Sure, caffeine comes in pill form, but what fun is that? Can you add sugar and cream to a pill? No. Well, you could but that would be messy. I feel a case of the grumpies coming on...

Thursday, October 14, 2010

sky like puzzle pieces

There's something hopeful about right angle bits of sky, hammered in blue and air not warm, not cool. A precious second of silence among the still buildings, steel and concrete, like bark on trees.

Saturday, October 9, 2010

a little corny


“Well, turn around. Let’s see what we can do with the bangs.” Jane pivoted to face the bathroom mirror. She’d been a victim of a free shopping mall makeover and her date, her first in 17 years, was due in less than 10 minutes.

“Oh God, Oh God.” Jane croaked, velvet black streams lined her face.

“Now stop that. They’re all right.”

“Look how short they are! I look like the first Mrs. Ronald Reagan!”

“Honey, now stop it! Let me ask you this: Do you have any kind of headband?”

Yvonne bent at the waist, sparing her swollen knees and rummaged through Jane’s wicker organizer under the sink: her brushes, clips, shampoo-conditioner-in-one free samples she’d never use.

“What about this?” Yvonne resurfaced with a plastic headband that still clutched a few strands of blond hair.

“That’s my granddaughter’s! I can’t fit into that! I have to do something now. Oh God, Oh God, he’ll be here in 6 minutes!” Jane clutched her head in the international symbol for all is lost.

“Don’t panic. There’s still hope. You said he was 65, right?”


“How fast do you thing he can move? Come on. He’ll be late. Let’s see.”

Yvonne dropped the lid on the toilet and sat heavily. She pawed a magazine out of the holder next to her began flipping through pages.

“Yvonne!” What on earth are you doing?”

Startled, Yvonne dropped the Marie Claire. She resisted the urge to scold Jane for frightening her and said with utter conviction, “It’s Spring, right? Let’s go fresh and natural! Wash your face. All of that junk has to go. I’m doing a sable liner on your top lids only, dusky rose on your lips and we’ll just flat iron your bangs for length and sweep them to side!”

Jane’s expression morphed from crazed panic to blindly gullible.

“That sounds OK.” She sniffed and wiped her trembling fingers across her face, a mess of tears and cosmetics.

Just then, the doorbell sounded and Jane’s dog sprang to life from his spot on the loveseat. He barked savagely and his delicate poodle names tapped code into the entry way tiles: intruder! Jane groaned wearily and reached for the soap, watching steam rise from the basin.

“That a girl. I’ll get your beau a nice glass of Chardonnay then come back and make you beautiful!” Yvonne kissed her a wink and danced out to greet Jane’s date.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

big rock

So, maybe we are a little defeated. What the hell kind of airline closes it's door 1 hour 15 minutes before departure?

The big reunion is put off, yet again.

Sunday, October 3, 2010


OK, so maybe that little old lady was a harbinger of travel plan doom, instead of a cute little gal dancing to oldies. But, Attempt #2 commences at 0430 Monday. We're not entirely defeated.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

sunny side

I had what they call a San Francisco moment today. A "moment" can happen anywhere, at any time, but this one felt San Francisco-y.

I could hear the distinct sound of a New Orleans jazz band as I walked down Sacramento Street. They were playing at the Embarcadero Center. Off to the side, a little old lady danced to "Sunny Side of the Street."

Sigh... everything's going to be OK.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

not what I do

So maybe I was so close to the stage that I scared the band, but I really enjoyed last night's Sarah Harmer's show at The Independent (a cool venue with friendly staff).

Something about knowing the words to all the songs and singing along like a big geek and not giving a damn -- so very freeing. What can I say, I have all her CDs. I won't embarrass myself by trying to give a real "review" since my language for all things music is paltry at best. In a few words, it rocked, and I didn't mind being there by myself, sipping pear ciders and grinning like a loon. I wish I could entertain people like that, but that's not what I do. I clap, I sing and "woo" with the rest of the crowd. I think that's OK.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

As if to say

I disapprove of whatever it is you are doing.

Saturday, September 18, 2010


Originally uploaded by jeesau
Let's just all try to get along shall we? (I'm talking to you, people at the office.) If these two can share the same 12" x 14" space then you adults can surely get along in an office of approximately the same size.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

only a little present

seating for one
Originally uploaded by jeesau
It's hard to meditate when you have a purring cat sashaying her way through your space, purring. I only made it 7 minutes.

Must remember to close the door.

Monday, September 13, 2010


This is emo horse. He gets all the lady horses by brooding and being complex. His long "mane in the eyes" look promotes his emo vibe.

Saw this horse at the end of a lovely hike with my sis yesterday. Does me good to get out in the fresh air and walk on some real ground -- no asphalt or concrete or tile. Something with dirt and rocks and tree roots embedded in it. I forgot to meditate yesterday (yes, I really did forget), but I think I covered my "being present" bases on this hike though.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

saying no

It's not easy, especially to a face like that. Wondering where her breakfast is, tiny chirping meows. She's now politely sitting near me on the floor waiting until I remember to feed her.

She has a "dental" today and had to be fasted for 12 hours before her appointment at 10. I tried, believe me, to explain that to her, but she didn't really understand the concept of anesthesia.

Thursday, September 2, 2010


There's a placard posted outside the ladies' room in my office building. The sign also has braille, but I noticed that some of the raised dots are scratched off. Does that constitute a typo? Will a visually impaired woman looking for a restroom check the sign and be misled? What if the typo actually spells out: "No man's land. Enter at your own peril." or "Crocodile breeding ground. Do not enter."

Also, is this post horribly insensitive?

Monday, August 30, 2010


Got the cats a cat "tree." Cleo has become the resident Mrs. Cravits. All the neighbors' comings and goings are being watched.

Murph likes the tree too, especially jumping from the top-most platform to the bed and back again.

Other than that, haven't been up to much. The critters, they do give one a good excuse not to write!

Friday, August 20, 2010

now you're talkin'

A day off, sunshine and a frozen yogurt. That's what I call a Friday. Yessir.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

I call that a bargain

Last night I went to Ross for their “shoe week” sale. I figured I could use a couple pair of comfortable shoes for work. My first thought when I arrived at the shoe section was “people are #($I&#* animals!” There were more shoes on the floor than there were on the shelves. Apparently, people try on discount name-brand shoes and then just leave them on the floor? The atmosphere in the shoe section had dissolved into chaos and there was no chance of harmony. I plowed through anyway, determined to get my piece of the bargain pie. It was like shopping in a bazaar in an overcrowded city where people just push past each other, no words exchanged, no excusing themselves. I felt sad for the clerk who’d been paged to report to women’s shoes for “recovery,” which I guessed meant “pick up all the shoes from the pigs who didn’t or wouldn’t pick up after themselves.”

Anyway, I know. I went to Ross for god’s sake! What did I expect? It ain’t no fancy city DE-partment store. But 2 pairs of name-brand shoes don’t come cheap. That’ll be 50 bucks, lady, a little piece of your soul. Thank you, come again.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

mornin', sunshine

Why did I upload a photo of a dreary winter day? Oh no, that's this morning, August 12th. Yeah, that's right, SUMMER. Crazy, right?

Complaining about the weather... next I'll be clutching my ratty sweater at the throat and telling kids to stop riding their bikes down the sidewalk.

Friday, August 6, 2010


Gum-wrapper origami on the N-Judah in the shape of a bird in flight. Thanks whoever made it; that made me smile.

Thursday, August 5, 2010


Did something really strange last night. I went to this place, paid some money, filled out some forms and now their are two animals living in my apartment! The beasts are unnamed as of now, but I'm thinking of "Dermot" for the boy (black kitty). You can see from the photo that the girl thinks quite a bit of herself...

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


Had dinner with a friend Monday evening. As we entered the Thai restaurant, he jokingly told the waiter it was my birthday. I told the waiter "no, it's not."

I thought that was that, but after the meal the waiter brought over a scoop of coconut ice cream and fried plantains. Clearly, he hadn't believed me and it was too late to protest. Two waiters and the patrons at the surrounding tables sang happy birthday, and I blew out the candle.

I'd never had a fraudulent dessert before, but it turns out, it was pretty good!

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

like a tornado in New York City

That's how it feels in my head, though I suppose it's not really an apt metaphor since tornadoes in NYC are rare. In my head however...


Saturday, July 24, 2010


One of the gorgeous Pt. Reyes National Seashore beaches -- I recommend it. After a while though my reveries and self-pity were too often interrupted by beachgoers. But I finished the book I was reading and had plenty of time to sulk in the car on the drive home.

Friday, July 23, 2010


I've been given to understand that the dark clouds of that there sky will slough off today, starting in the west. I am not inclined to believe it, but I am a wrong about a lot of things.

Monday, July 19, 2010


Ross Castle
Originally uploaded by jeesau
You're right, Mr. Petty, the waiting is the hardest part.

Saturday, July 17, 2010


Summer = peaches
Peaches = yum

That is all.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

show biz

If you had a photo of two beloved female relatives posing with a little person dressed as a clown, you'd have to post it, right? Right. Pictured here is my beloved Aunt Mamie and my much missed and lovely grandma, Lucy. The child in on the far right is my mom.

I personally have no photos of myself posing with someone dressed in circus attire, but I think I shall make it a goal of mine.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

teddy bear love triangle

Yesterday, I just had to take a photo of this mural on the outside wall of the really cool candy/gift shop in Berkeley. Its image has always puzzled me. It appears two teddy bears are in an intimate embrace, while another teddy bear (gender of all parties indeterminate) is trying to pull one of the bears away. The bear is smiling, but under that smile is a heart filled with jealousy. Am I right or what?

Or, could be the person who painted this didn't give it much thought at all. The work order read "3 teddy bears, floating candy, store name, in vermillion," so the guy painted it and never looked back.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

another short-short

Originally uploaded by jeesau
Pale Blue

“When will they call?”
“After the surgery, I guess.”
“Uh-huh.” Michael looked up over his coffee mug at the ticking kitchen clock – an owl with moving eyes. He’d never liked that thing. Not since his wife had brought it home from a yard sale. “It’s watching me, Evelyn. I don’t like the look it’s giving me.” “Oh don’t be silly! It’s made of plastic. It’s kitsch. And a bargain at $11.” Evelyn, the poor woman, had a sixth sense for yard sales; she could divine a sale blocks away, but she never got a good deal. Eleven dollars? For that? Michael had thought when he saw it.

“He said she might get sick. After.” Evelyn was folding, unfolding and re-folding her paper napkin, a little pillow of pale blue, then a quilt with squares, then a pillow again.

“Who said, dear?”

“The doctor. He said, you know when he walked us to the lobby and I asked how soon after mother’s surgery could we see her?”

“Yes, yes. The lobby.”

“I don’t want to get in the way, but I do want mother to see someone’s there when she wakes up.”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

Michael patted his wife’s forearm, a tap, Morse code – relax, please, relax. He knew not to say the words. That, he’d learned early in their marriage. To say “relax” to Evelyn was like funneling ten thousand volts through her brain. It served its opposite purpose. Few words and a steady, reassuring presence was the way to say “relax” to her. He pulled her empty coffee mug across the table and rose to refill it. She said nothing and kept at folding and unfolding and re-folding her napkin.

“Ev, I don’t mind waiting for the call. You can rest your eyes some and I’ll come get – “

Her expression silenced him. Of course, Michael thought, I am ridiculous for suggesting that. It just came out, like something a character in a movie might say. The truth was he didn’t expect Evelyn’s mother would survive the surgery but he promised himself he would stay up all night until the phone rang.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

it's an honor

Today, for my 10-year employment anniversary (which actually occurred a year and a half ago), I was unceremoniously presented with a medallion. I've never owned a medallion before, and am not quite sure what to do with it. Attach a large chain and wear it Mr. T style? Buy some vellum tracing paper and making rubbings of it, then frame the rubbings to give as gifts? Naw, can't think of anyone I want to punish that much.

I would have rather had some cash, but thanks anyway.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

just a moment

We are moving into cubicles this weekend. This will be the last week in my giant anchor-heavy black desk, with the peeling veneer and squeaky drawers. I don't know what the modular desk looks like yet, but I've been in them before. That's right in. That's the appropriate preposition. Cubicle walls and modular desks make you feel as though you are in something.

I'll be glad to clean out my desk, but what do I do with these: 2 rubber balls that look like planet earth, a skeleton earring, 50 francs, and a postcard from Seattle?

Sunday, July 4, 2010


Hey, Happy 4th. I don't know what that white bird has to do with Independence Day, but I don't have a photo of the red, white and blue.

I don't feel patriotic today. Does that make me a bad person?

Saturday, July 3, 2010


I've probably spent too much time on the couch this four-day weekend. I don't do so well with a lot of unstructured time. Hours drift by and I'm still in my PJs. Hmm... But the cooking shows are almost over. Then I promise to get outside.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

one dollar

Today carpoolers must pay $2.50 to use the carpool lane, as well as having two riders. I was prepared for a big deal, but the east parking lot was suspiciously empty. The cash lane lines were long though.

The driver said he wouldn't ask people for $1.25, but if people volunteered he said he'd take it. I gave the guy a buck. Figured a dollar for a ride to the city was fair.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010


The geese have decided to hang out on the Lakeshore Ave. side of the lake. Wow, there are a lot of them. Many geese, plus many bathroom breaks equals Watch Your Step.

Monday, June 28, 2010

beach day

Inchydoney Beach
Originally uploaded by jeesau
That was a warm one yesterday. Should have spent it at the beach.

Friday, June 25, 2010


Come on, you knew I'd do something nerdy like this eventually...

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day: scuttlebutt

Meaning: rumor, gossip

Did you know?

Nowadays, office workers catch up on the latest scuttlebutt around the water cooler, and when they do, they are continuing a long-standing (although not necessarily honorable) tradition. That kind of gossip sharing probably also occurred on the sailing ships of yore. Back in the early 1800s, the cask containing a ship's daily supply of freshwater was called a "scuttlebutt"; that name was later applied to a drinking fountain on a ship or at a naval installation. By the early 20th century, the term for the water source was also applied to the gossip and rumors generated around it, and the latest chatter has been called "scuttlebutt" ever since.

Thursday, June 24, 2010


This is all starting to look too familiar.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


sally lane
Originally uploaded by jeesau
Ever wonder where the hell you're going?