The Notebook

While shopping for stocking stuffers before Christmas, I found a tiny — I mean TINY — notebook with a hot pink metallic cover (not unlike Dianna’s notebook, but so much pinker). I briefly considered buying this for Sean. Sean is a stand-up comic and humor writer who carries around a notebook which is about three times the size of this one and in no way pink. He uses this to jot down ideas for jokes in his own peculiar shorthand.

Many times I have yelled at Michele for curiously peering into Sean’s notebook without being asked. He always assures me that it’s fine. Only recently did I realize this is because there’s nothing coherent in there at all. I was at dinner with Sean and some folks when he started reading us some notes which even he couldn’t remember how to translate.

“Alligator, Bruins, Linda McCartney,” he said.* “Pumpkins, the thing with teeth, rock-paper-scissors.” Sometimes he was able to reconstruct the intended joke for us, and sometimes not.

I’ve known Sean since middle school, and over the years I’ve developed an automatic laugh reflex whenever he speaks. I think this is maybe why he and I don’t have a lot of serious conversations. After that time he told me about his pancreatic cancer and his crush on his own grandfather and I laughed and laughed, he kind of stopped trying to confide in me.**

Anyway, even though I find everything he says funny, for some reason I find the joke shorthand especially funny. Part of the reason to get him this much tinier notebook is that it would make the shorthand jokes even shorter and even more inexplicably funny. For me.

“Blue,” he would read from one tiny page. The rest of the table would stare blankly but I would laugh and laugh.

At that dinner, Sean also discussed the possibility of someday creating a joke about his joke notebook. As far as I know, he hasn’t done this yet. I think when he comes up with the idea, he thinks “I don’t have to write this one down: the very existence of my notebook will remind me.” Obviously that’s not working, but I feel if he had a hilariously pink notebook he would easily remember how funny it is.

Yes, all of these would have been great reasons to buy the notebook for Sean. But it was like five dollars and I found some Great Brain books I wanted more.

*Note: incomprehensible joke shorthand has been changed to avoid copyright infringement. Also because I’m curious to see if Sean will actually come up with jokes based on my made-up notes.

**Note: Secrets have been completely made up. Sean has never actually confided in me. Or if he has, I thought he was kidding.

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The Datevine

Mostly I don’t want any of you reading my professional writing, but every now and then I get proud of something and want to pimp it out.

Today it is The Datevine. I was recently hired to edit the SF page. Similar to Yelp and City Search, The Datevine SF is a database of user-generated content about the best places to eat, play, artify, etc. in the Bay Area. Except we’re better than those other services, and here are just a few reasons why:

1. Most of the tips were written by me, your pal. That won’t always be true, but I’ve generated a ton of content to get us started. If you just can’t get enough of me (and who can?) you can spend an entire afternoon browsing around there and not run out of stuff to read.

2. If you happen to have an elderly laptop (as some of us do) then the maps on Yelp and City Search might sort of cause it to overheat. The Datevine, though still visually appealing and containing lots of map data, doesn’t do that.

3. Everyone uses those other services, they’re so mainstream. How many people went to the Yelp holiday party, like a million? But be the first one at your dive bar of choice to casually reference The Datevine and watch the attractive hipsters line up to make out with you.

So here’s what you can do:

1. You can check out the site here, or

2. You can add your own ideas for stuff to do in the Bay Area here, or

3. You can leave suggestions for improvements in the comments on this post. We’re just getting started, so all feedback is helpful. Or

4. You can totally ignore this. But I thought we were friends, dude.

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Free wig and wig-outs

It’s important to package your gifts not only with attractive wrapping, but with a catchy slogan. In stores they might use something like “Free gift with purchase!” Personally, I’m going with “free hair with tape.”

Yes, customers and valued friends, for a limited time only, every piece of tape on every package you receive from me will contain one (1) long strand of my hair. Collect all 13,768 and create a Kris Wig of your Very Own!

Alas, some customers will not be receiving their hairy tape any time soon, for Gene and I were thwarted in our attempts to reach his family in Seattle. Their presents are now winging their way back to the Bay Area in my suitcase. I hope. It is a sad world, let me tell you, when my suitcase can get a flight to Seattle and I cannot.

When we first started talking about going to Seattle, Gene was reluctant. I attempted to jolly him out of this, using my patented formula of one part humor and two parts shame. “Don’t be such a miser, Gene McScrooge,” I told him lovingly. “What’s a few extra hundred dollars compared to the pleasures of being with your family over the holidays?”

It turns out, though, that his reluctance — and I might have understood this, if I ever listened when he talked, but I don’t like to set a dangerous precedent — was based on the extreme unpleasantness of holiday travel. And oh how right he was.

Everything’s crowded, but you expect that. What you don’t expect is that, like you, about forty percent of the travelers in the airport were surprised by the crowds, failed to account for them in their travel plans, missed their flights and are now desperately trying to fly stand-by on the same flights you’re trying to get on. And they are all angry.

Happily, I got to go through this with Gene instead of one of the sucky people. He helps people lift their luggage and he holds doors and he calms down crazed punk kids who are yelling at the hapless Southwest employee and he is human and calm with everyone who helps us, and based on their expressions in response he is obviously the only person in the airport not taking out rage and stress on them in some fashion.

Anyway, getting to Seattle would have involved a lot of hanging around airports, and neither of us wanted that. So anyone looking for friendships this weekend should call us up, and we will be sure to get back to you just as soon as we get our phone chargers back from Seattle.

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Gene brings some work home

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Six December Stories

It is December, the holiday month, and outside the weather is cold and drizzly and sometimes there is a snowstorm. (Never mind that it is sunny with blue skies and a temperate breeze actually. In my head there is snow.)

When it’s cold and grey outside, and all you want to do is stay wrapped up in bed or chair with a cup of hot something and a warm book, here are a few of my favorite December reads:

The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

A poor orphan is sent to live at the home of her rich cousin. When tragedy strikes, the cousins, along with their faithful gamekeeper, must set off through snow and hard work to save the day with pluck and spirit. There are a lot of howling wind and ice bits interspersed with cozy warm well-fed bits that make you feel pretty happy to be tucked up in a quilt with a plate of English muffins. This is a children’s book and is pretty overwrought, but if you’re looking for coziness it can’t be beat.

Hogfather

When you are sick to death of Santa Claus, try Terry Pratchett’s warped take on Christmas. On the Discworld, Santa Claus is the Hogfather, whose sleigh is drawn by great big pigs to deliver toys to all the kiddies on Hogswatchnight. And this year, someone has assassinated him…This book is funny and fascinating in that British comic fantasy way, good when you want a break from the emotional side of the holiday season.

Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ’s Childhood Pal

Doesn’t the title sort of say it all? Christopher Moore does it again.

Winter Rose

Many of Patricia McKillip’s books are full of wizards and elves, but most of Winter Rose is about a family of ordinary people having ordinary thoughts (about extraordinary events, though; it’s still a fantasy novel). Two sisters fall in love with the same man and do not catfight, argue, plot or scheme against each other. They just go on being sisters, as people do. There’s also a lot about the pleasures of spring, which is nice to read when your December weather is being uncooperatively summery.

Emma

With all the cozy indoor scenes, the romantic carriage rides through snow and the December dances, Emma is the perfect book to curl up with when you’ve got the kettle on and a fire burning. Plus, no matter what bad feelings holidays might stir up for you — stress, sadness, loneliness — you can always take comfort in the knowledge that you are not nearly as clueless (heh) as Emma and Mr. Knightly.

The Jeeves Omnibus

Wooster is always dopey, cheerful and helpless, and Jeeves is always respectable, snooty and genius. They will always come through. They will never change. You open a Jeeves story, you know exactly what you’re going to get: Bertie Wooster in a spot of hot water. Jeeves will then save his bacon in exchange for Bertie agreeing to stop wearing some objectionable item in his wardrobe. These stories are comforting as clockwork and require about as much input from you: perfect when a day with your relatives has worn you out and you just want a bit of a loff.

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Working from home: the regrets

See Part 1, Working from home: the recipes.

In retrospect, cheddar cheese and lettuce are not going to taste good with soy sauce no matter what they’re wrapped in.

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Pre-coffee, spoiling for a fight

ME: Why is the internet so slow?

GENE: Here, I can fix that.

ME: Can you move this light?

GENE: [Moves heavy light the requisite one foot.]

ME: Why didn’t my email forward right? What is wrong?

GENE: I’ll take a look.

ME: Stupid Gmail. Stupid computer. I hate this fucking computer!

GENE: Click “show quoted text.”

ME: Oh.

GENE: Ok?

ME: DO SOMETHING WRONG, DAMMIT!

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What’s so wrong with unicorns, anyway?

Why aren’t fantasy novels respectable?

This is probably a stupid question that will be answered using the word “unicorn” a lot.

But seriously, why not? I know there are more than a lot of badly-written fantasy books out there, but the same is true for standard fiction. And doesn’t it speak highly for an author’s imagination if she can create an entirely new world, or can integrate new bits into the real world?

I’m no great fan myself of epic fantasy with a Good God and an Evil God and lots of battles between People With Unpronounceable Names and No Sense Of Humor. But I read a lot of authors who can create a realistic, compelling story with characters who are three-dimensional and likable and they use hardly any unnecessary capital letters. And I wonder why these books are so marginalized and disrespected. Can anyone answer this?

Extra points to people who don’t just rant about the Old White Men and their canon. Although I do seem to have more female authors on my fantasy shelves and more male authors on my literature shelves, so maybe that’s worth discussing.

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Little sheep dolls

I’ve inherited a creche from my grandmother, it seems. She died more than a decade ago and since then it’s been mouldering in one of my parents’ closets. However, this year I’ve been struck with holiday fever and when I asked about it the Moms was only too eager to get it out of her house and into mine.

So now I’ve got this little nativity scene set up in the living room. And I feel sort of weird about it, not being a Christian, but I have squishy-fond memories of setting it up for my grandmother every year and I am generally pleased to see it out again. I was a little worried that Gene might take it amiss, but a raised eyebrow and a “gives you an excuse to play with dolls, I guess,” was all the response I got, which I consider to be a tacit approval.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go arrange the little sheeps again.

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Tattle-tale

Having finished my pressing deadlines for the day (though not my day’s work by any means), I just spent like half an hour mechanically going through and flagging miscategorized posts on Craigslist. I feel weird and a little gross now, like I’m the snitchy kid who lives to get the other kids in trouble. But, you know, you shouldn’t be selling Tahoe homes on the SF forum. It’s just wrong.

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