truth is stranger than… – Page 29

I Don’t See a Forest? Those Trees Are In My Way!

Sheesh, sometimes I worry about my brain. I can usually rely on it to make the connections I need and I’m off to the races. But sometimes…sometimes I just can’t seem to rattle all the pieces into place.

This week the Theme Thursday theme of fixture was really baffling me.

When I don’t get an idea right away for the weekly theme I usually start by looking the word up in the dictionary. Then I’ll do a Google images search. Then I’ll look at my own trove of photos, both on my phone and on my computer, to try for ideas.

And, well, fixture wasn’t speaking to me this week.

Last night, as I lay in bed getting ready to sleep, I was thinking on this dilemma. Sometimes when I’m really sleepy the best ideas come around. My brain works more smoothly after throwing off the bounds of the day.

So I tried to rev up the old brain motor. I was like “come ON. I know I can do something with fixture. Don’t I have a photo or an idea? I have to make it work. Come on brain.”

Then I closed my eyes. I gave up, thinking, “whatever. I’ll skip participation this week.”

That’s when my clever ol’ brain got in gear.

Suddenly my eyes shot open, because I remembered I had this photo, taken on my phone, just this week:

I have looked at this photo a thousand times trying to get ideas and somehow the phrase “light fixture” never crossed my brain. What. The. Heck?

And then, one might ask, why do I have a photo of a light fixture?

Because among my many weird obsessions is looking at and often snapping a photo of the ceilings in San Francisco’s oldest buildings. I dig the old tin ceilings and miss how builders used to really pay attention to detail when a new place went up. I miss that workmanship and that style.

This photo was taken at a fave restaurant on Union Square called Sears Find Food. Established in 1938, this place embodies the essence of old San Francisco. I *adore* this restaurant. The food is awesome. The service is impeccable. The location on the heart of Union Square rocks.

Speaking of location, the day I ate at Sears I spent some time wandering around Union Square and felt gutted to see all the old places closing and the shiny new moving in. I wasn’t able to capture a photo, but there was this really old school tailor storefront that now has a huge “coming soon” false front around the door. A Jimmy Choo shop is moving in. *sigh*

I did manage to snap a quick shot of this longtime fixture on Union Square, The Gold Dust Lounge, established 1933.

According to our local paper, it’s soon to shut its doors as well. The building owner wants to convert it to retail space and has a clothing store all lined up.

From an article in the SFGate (I couldn’t have said it better):

The issue is particularly touchy downtown, where the sultry saloons, strip joints and savory and not so savory amusements that once lined Powell Street have steadily disappeared over the years. True or not, there is a perception in some city circles that corporate stooges are busily wiping out San Francisco’s colorful bacchanal traditions and turning everything retail vanilla.

So, I guess my tired brain is actually doing ok. A little slower to make the neurons snap into line, but I got there.

Turns out I really did have something to say on the topic of fixture.

Just like Gramma Used to Make

Posted on March 13, 2012
by Karen Fayeth
2 Comments

I am publishing this recipe, because I am sure that there are other families who have members who don’t know how or have forgotten how to make ice when the ice tray is empty. — From food.com user name CHRISSYG

After all the snobbery, cruelty and vitriol over the Grand Forks paper’s positive food review of Olive Garden, I was down on the internets and all the bullies.

Really, I was ticked. The sneering is wearying.

Then today, I find this little gem, a Food.com recipe for making ice cubes.

A must click if only to read the comments.

Everyone is in on the joke and at least for the first several pages of comments, no one is mean. This is what makes the internets fun.

Link via Shoebox Blog

I Know Your Shame

Posted on March 6, 2012March 6, 2012
by Karen Fayeth
3 Comments

This morning I was at my local Peet’s waiting on a latte when I noticed the line behind me was getting pretty long. Like out the door. Commuters were starting to get the angry eyes.

The guy behind the counter pulling coffee shots and making drinks was moving slow, and when he noticed the backup, he got a little flustered. The more he eyed the long line of impatient workday people, the more flustered he got.

Suddenly, one of the other people behind the counter went, “whoa! Ok, you work the register” and then she physically pulled the guy away from the espresso machine and shoved him at the register. The young man sighed, dejected, turned to the next customer and said “can I help you?”

The kid was put in the hot spot, the bottleneck, the key role….and he couldn’t handle it.

And I felt bad for the guy. Then I slipped into the Wayback Machine.

The year was 1990. It was summertime. My folks were living in Carlsbad, so I went back home to C’bad to spend my summer between semesters at NMSU.

My salt-o-the earth parents insisted that I couldn’t enjoy the summer break. I was required to get a job.

Times were a little tough in Carlsbad in that year. Many of the potash mines had closed and jobs were a little scarce. Any good summer job had already been snapped up, and that left me with only one place that would hire me.

Taco Bell.

I slipped into my double knit polyester rust colored uniform, pinned my name to my chest, and went to work slinging beans.

I had worked a cashier’s job in high school, and one of my coworkers taught me how to count change and keep my till balanced to the penny. The Taco Bell people loved me. My till always balanced, I was pretty good as customer service, and I kept the place clean.

Inevitably, the manager decided to give me a shot working on the drive thru window.

The hot spot. The bottleneck. The key role.

It started out ok, I guess. I was a little confounded by taking the order but not taking money right away and keeping track of which car owed what amount and which order came next. The line of cars started to back up. It extended out onto Church street.

I managed to give the wrong order to at least three different cars.

Some guy came inside the restaurant all pissed off and complained to the manager. Cuz, you know, his tacos weren’t right. Or something.

Anyhow, I was unceremoniously pulled off drive through and put back on front register.

It was clear that I’d failed, and my failure was Very Bad. My coworkers wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I’d once been a star employee. I was now disgraced.

I was never given another shot at my nemesis the Drive Thru. Never had another chance to prove I could handle it (not that I cared, honestly).

I made it through the rest of that summer working register and of course went back to Las Cruces. Classes began again at NMSU and over the years I graduated, got a job and lived my life.

Twenty years later, the embarrassment is still fresh. Another minimum wage employee has learned the humiliation of not being quite good enough to handle the hot spot.

I hope he gets over it quicker than I did.
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Tangentially related, two years later, a F2 tornado ripped through town, injuring 6 people at the Taco Bell and ripping the bell off the top of the building.

The tornados in Carlsbad are the stuff of nightmares. My personal tornado story is well documented here.

A short Google search, and lo and behold, a photo of the 1992 tornado. The Internet is a weird thing.

Image from Southeastern New Mexico Weather Web Page.

Grown Up Decisions, Made by Comparison

Posted on March 5, 2012
by Karen Fayeth
2 Comments

The scene: The Good Man and me, at the furniture store. He’s on one end of a really nice couch. I’m at the other.

We both have our feet up on a fabulously cool ottoman/bench.

He digs the couch. A lot. I like it, but I am a little hesitant. It’s absolutely unlike anything we’ve looked at all day. The color and the fabric are exactly what he said he didn’t want.

Also, the style is very modern and I’m generally a more traditional sort of gal.

I’m wavering. It’s cool. Very cool. But it’s out of my zone.

Here’s where we pick up the conversation.

The Good Man: “So. Let me ask you this question: Would your dad buy this couch?”

Me: “Oh hell no. He’d say it’s impractical.”

The Good Man: “Right! Now let me ask you this question. Would *my* dad buy this couch?”

Me: “Oh hell no. Same reason.”

The Good Man: “There you have it.”

And there he had me. Snared me in his blend of logic and emotion. Mixed to perfection like a spousal apothecary.

Damn the man who knows which levers to pull in my brain. Damn him, I say!!

And I mumbled something similar under my breath as I got out a credit card and handed it over to the salesguy.

It is a pretty chula couch with two matching chairs and the bench/ottoman for resting toesies.

I just hope I’m cool enough to own it.

Damn it! I can’t believe I bought a couch without knowing THIS masterpiece was on the market! GAH!

Photo from I Can Haz Cheeseburger.

They Call It Stormy Monday*

Posted on March 1, 2012
by Karen Fayeth
No Comments

Tuesday’s just as bad.

Wednesday’s worse.

And Thursday’s also sad.

Photos from the parking lot at my apartments this morning, after a very rainy night. These muddy waters are silt washing down from the building just above us on the hill. The dirt is washing out and down a wall and down our drain.

This worries me.

And yet…it’s kind of pretty.