When you're furloughed in Frisco and it's February, you take a financial challenge

February is the shortest month and so I've always considered it to be the best for making life changes: taking a break from drinking, promising to work out more, and, for me, saving money. If you can do it for one month--28 days to be exact--you can feel good about yourself, even if on March 1 you're guzzling beer from a pitcher or turning into an inert blob on your couch. It's the small triumphs that matter.

And that's why I'm challenging myself to end February with a larger balance in my checking account than I started with. Yes, I'm going to try to save money. Yikes. I've been furloughed for a month and my salary has been reduced, but I'm taking all of this as a further challenge to spend my money more wisely.

Wish me luck. I will need it.

When you're furloughed in Frisco, you go to happy hour

Actually, when you're furloughed you stay home and start drinking at 3. When you're back at work after the furlough, you go to happy hour. And so we did, on Tuesday, at a great little place called Jade.

First of all, there's a waterfall. Inside. Second, look at these prices:


There was also FREE parking right in front of the bar. Could it get any better? It did. Our bartender was fantastic and made us free shots after we told her about the blog.



Cheers!
A tantalizing blend of Vanilla Vodka, Melon Liqueur, fresh Lemon, Lime, and Pineapple Juices
A tantalizing blend of Vanilla Vodka, Melon Liqueur, fresh Lemon, Lime, and Pineapple Juices

When you're furloughed in Frisco...you scrub toilets?

Man. (Imagine I just said that in a whiney, defeated voice).

Sigh.

So I guess I should just be glad that I even have a job right now... Because, I could, you know, be furloughed or something. Although, if I were furloughed, I'd probably be playing Rock Band at home in jeans and flip-flops instead of balancing budgets in my office wearing "work clothes" and uncomfortable pointy-toed boots (which I really need to get rid of, by the way).

Maybe if they paid me a full paycheck I wouldn't be annoyed right now. But they haven't, so I am.

I just found out that come June 30th, I will spend three days scrubbing toilets and showers in order to get our building ready for the next bunch of students to move-in. Why? Oh, well, because our budget has been cut and we can no longer afford to have a janitorial service come through. That's why. So I have to do it. I have to do that, and clean the disgusting rooms that students leave behind. No, it's not just me. I'll be just one of several co-workers (none of us janitors and all of us with advanced degrees) to tackle this job. But still.

I really didn't sign up for this. I didn't leave my cushy job across the bay (doesn't it kill you that hindesight is 20-20) to jump on board the train-wreck express. I can take the elimination of matching 403b retirement contributions. I can clearly take being furloughed. I am even taking a 5% salary cut, effective February 1st, and ending...well...never. But scrubbing disgusting freshmen toilets?! I just don't know if I can do that.

Everybody has a line that they can't cross. I don't know, but I'm feeling like I might have just encountered mine.

Like Sand Through the Hourglass, So Are the Days of Our Lives

When I was in high school, Days of Our Lives came on from 3:00-4:00 every weekday afternoon. I got out of school at 3:10 and my sister and I would be home most days to catch the last half hour of the show (after school activities…pshaw!). It was the perfect entertainment for a melodramatic teenager: love affairs gone awry, crazy villains controlling people’s minds, unbelievable story lines. So of course, on furlough, I figured it was the perfect time to revisit these old habits.

Besides, even though it’s been 10 years since I watched the show, I should be able to catch up on all the action with a few episodes, right? Everyone knows that nothing really ever changes on a soap opera.

Well, yes and no.

Hope and Bo are still around, and although Bo is having psychic premonitions, nothing much seems to have changed. Except that Hope is now on speaking terms with Stefano, a man who, if I remember correctly, implanted a chip in her brain to make her think she was someone else, almost ruining things with Bo. What a jerk.

Some character I don't know is trying to convince a pregnant teenager to give the baby to her. Kate is ending an affair with a much-younger man after battling cancer (that’s new!). Sammy, Carrie, and Austin and their never-ending love triangle (made even more awkward by the fact that Sammy and Carrie are half-sisters) have entirely disappeared

.

And still, no one is gay. Things in Salem are complicated, but not that complicated.

If anything can speak to the nature of Days of Our Lives, I think it’s SoapCentral’s attempt at making sense of the relationships on the show. They’ve created a quite thorough set of family trees for the main families on the show. The family trees get so complicated, that they've written a key to help people better understand the relationships between characters. It looks like this:

Key
m. Married
c. Child
a. Affair
r. Rape

A category for rape? Wow. They don't have a category for what happens when someone is born after Stefano creates a baby with stolen egg and sperm, but I guess that’s probably another discussion entirely.

The familiarity of Days was a bit comforting, I have to admit—the melodramatic story lines, the familiar faces, the fact that nothing, ever, really happens in a single episode. And at the end of the episode, listening to the same theme song they used ten years ago, watching the hourglass spinning as the credits rolled by, I could be thankful that no matter how bad my life was, it was always a little better than the mess I had just witnessed.

When you're Furloughed in Frisco, you take to the stage!

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Tonight I make my debut at the infamous J'Lo Bennifer, super-star extraordinaire, ex-wife of many, and possible murderer of one.


You know you're intrigued. You know you want to go and see me in all my lipsticked glory as I deliver jewels of lines like:

"If it weren’t for this brilliant mystery writer, I wouldn’t have the starring role of ‘Nancy Drew, Valley-Girl Detective,’ in the upcoming music video based on Agatha’s new book, DEADER THAN A DOORNAIL."

But alas, this engagement is one night only, and all 140 tickets to "Murder in the Library" (performed in the San Leandro Public Library, of course) were given away (free) within 24 hours!

Did J'Lo Bennifer do it? Did I kill Agatha Mystery because she was having an affair with my my fifth husband, Rocky? Or was it the Governator? He's a character in the play you know, and it's quite possible he's the culprit. After all, Agatha was blackmailing him. The poor thing has a terrible gambling problem and didn't want Ms. Mystery to write about his obsession with lottery tickets in her next novel...

I'm sorry my furlouged friends, I really should have said something sooner about this brilliant opportunity for free entertainment. Lot's of Groceries didn't even get one of the highly sought after tickets! Unfortunately, you won't be able to help solve the mystery yourselves and will just have to wait to find out who did it...

When you're furloughed in Frisco, President Obama makes your day

Lots has happened since my last post: we went back to work (but won't be paid until February), we had another momentous last-minute staff meeting (more on that later), we went back to Pop's (although ditched out on Bacon Night 48 hours later), and discovered a happy hour special down the hill from work that rivals Pop's (and if you can believe it, the place doesn't smell like an outhouse).

But the most important thing that's happened since I last wrote took place today. It's Obama Day and I've been celebrating since 5:30 am. Truth be told, I was so excited for today's festivities that I couldn't sleep last night. I just couldn't wait to wake up and watch Barack take the helm of our country.

The Inauguration was beautiful. And I guess great minds think alike, because at each of the Inaugural Balls Barack and Michelle danced to "At Last" - the same song that I walked down the aisle to at my wedding! I hosted a viewing party today at work and the cafe was packed with students, faculty, and staff. I almost called in sick because I wanted to watch the Inauguration without being interrupted, but I'm so glad I didn't. It was really nice for our community to come together to commemorate such a joyous event - especially considering that the last two times the staff has been drawn together ended negatively, resulting in lower team morale.

But today we celebrated and I'm still on a high.

Lots of Groceries and I marked the occasion with a fantastic bottle of champagne (90 points at BevMo) and spaghetti with Lots of Groceries' homemade sauce. Yum! We even toasted our new President!

I'm so proud today. And so happy. And so thankful! I hope the next four years bring a renewed sense of purpose and optimism to the country.

Happy Obama Day everyone!

When you're furloughed in Frisco, the fun must end

No Fun Times, no! Please don't go!

Our relationship rocked. It was so awesome sleeping in until 11:00 am everyday. Do you realize that because of you, my body clock reset itself? I haven't slept in that late since my early 20's!

It was so cool going to bars in the middle of the day any day I wanted. It wasn't that long ago that Lots of Groceries and I were driving down 16th Street (at Valencia) and saw some people sitting in the window of the Casanova Bar in the middle of the afternoon, and I looked to him and said, "Sometimes I wish I were a hipster with no responsibilities who could drink in the middle of the day and not worry about it." And then that wish came true and it was so rad. Fun Times, you were good to me.

And how awesome was it to go on an extended vacation to LA? I mean, how many hours of Rock Band did we play together? Honestly, it must have been pushing 100. We made it to the Rolling Stone Hall of Fame. That was so cool.

I'm going to miss the ultra romantic late night nachos that Lots of Groceries made. Now that the real world is knocking on my door, late night nachos will be once again regulated to the weekends. Come to think of it, everything fun will be regulated to the weekends!

Oh Fun Times, why must you forsake me? Maybe someday we'll unexpectedly meet again. Until then, here's looking at you kid.

Some else who thinks (sort of) like we do

A funny, true, and sometimes crude guide to living without money.

When you're furloughed in Frisco, you make koozies. Yes, koozies.

A beer koozie*, as defined by an especially impressive Wikipedia entry, is "a fabric or foam device that is designed to keep a beverage can or bottle cold." Well, I would argue that a koozie is so much more, but everyone knows Wikipedia is always right, so why bother.

The point is, that beer koozies are an absolutely genious invention. For those of you who don't have any around the house, get some. They're not white trash: they're classy.

In my extra furloughed time, I've begun crocheting beer koozies. I have a lot of extra yarn lying around the house and what better way to use it? The great thing about crocheted beer koozies are that they're easy to manufacture (I have an Asian sweatshop worker who can make one in about 15 minutes**), cheap, and can stretch to fit almost any drinking container. As you can see above, the koozies can fit a beer can (not a cat) and can also stretch to fit a large red cup.

If you'd like a lesson in crocheting koozies, please let me know. I've perfected the pattern.



* Some argue that KOO-zee is, in fact, an incorrect pronunciation and instead should be pronouced KHO-zee (like cozy). Despite long controversy and argument, there is no definitive answer to this debate. In my personal opinion, I believe there are multiple acceptable pronunciations and spellings of this word, but some disagree and for the sake of the reader, I have used only one spelling variation here.

**I do not support sweatshop labor of any kind, including Asian sweatshops. My Asian sweatshop worker is really a friend (employed as a medical doctor) who comes over sometimes and crochets beer koozies instead of interacting with people at parties. We call her a sweatshop worker. She is not, in any way, a sweatshop worker. She drives a BMW.

When you're furloughed in Frisco, you discover the glory of the 5 o'clock coffee

During my normal life, working in an office, I have a very delicate relationship with coffee. Too much, and the day's filled with jittery stress and a great deal of toe tapping. Too little, and I'm pretending I'm not asleep when my boss walks by (just kidding, Brian: I hardly ever sleep at work!).

On furlough, coffee is an entirely different animal. I still drink coffee during the day, although it rarely matters how little or much I drink since I have very little of consequence to accomplish. (And sometimes, let's be honest, I've switched to beer well before I'd normally be out of work.) The great joy of this new relationship I've found with coffee is the 5 o'clock coffee. This is unthinkable in my working days: maybe I'll squeeze in a late-afternoon coffee at the office if it's a particularly rough day, but a coffee after work? I have to be to bed soon so I can get up in the morning and go back to work! Drinking coffee at 5 o'clock is crazy.

Of course, on the furlough, there are no pesky responsibilities that require one to wake up early....or at any time, for that matter. Nightlife has become much more interesting than in my former life. I almost never turn down an invitation to go out these days. Why should I? I'm not doing anything else. The 5 o'clock coffee keeps me going right when I'm thinking about a nap, the productive hours of the day gone, and the party just getting started.

Maybe I'm a little late to the 5 o'clock coffee game. Maybe everyone else has already figured this out. But I feel the obligation to share the wealth for anyone who hasn't yet experienced this. I used to be glad that bars closed at 2, because it meant I would get to go home. I used to dread nights out in New York (well, not wholeheartedly) because I knew I'd be out until the next morning. I used to be the one at a party who, around 1, was ready to go. I used to be such an old lady. With the help of the 5 o'clock coffee, I have, on a number of occasions over the past month, been the one who couldn't believe that the party was ending so early when people started to leave around 2:30 and the hostess was brushing her teeth. I'm the one who always wants to keep hanging out, go somewhere else, see who else is still awake.

I'm telling you: the next time you have plans to go out, drink some coffee at 5. It's amazing.

When you're furloughed in Frisco disaster strikes...

again.

Oh that's right folks. Our quaint little abode, Disaster House, decided to rear its precious head today. This time the tub stopped draining while Lots of Groceries was showering. He spent about an hour plunging the drain in hopes of clearing the clog, but much to our chagrin, he was relatively unsuccessful. Beyond unearthing hair globs galore, all he managed to do was get the standing water down the drain. Fantastic, yes, but the pipe is still blocked.

Gross, gross, gross.

I jumped in for a quick shower about 45 minutes ago and the water is still chilling in the tub. It looks like it will stay that way for the rest of the day because our landlord is MIA. I was worried that the kitty would get excited about going for a swim, but all the plunging has freaked her out, and now she's hiding under the couch. Poor little nerd kitty!


I apologize in advance to everyone we have made plans to hang out with tomorrow. With a broke-down shower and no one to fix it, we'll be experimenting with cologne and perfume. Yippee!

When you're furloughed in Frisco, you love corporate sponsorship (and the Buddha)

Yesterday I went to the Asian Art Museum. It was free thanks to Target, who sponsors the museum's free day, the first Sunday of every month. Thanks, Target! (But I'm still not shopping there, as my friend Anthony added.)

Of course, as I have learned from past free events, the museum was crowded. Everyone loves free stuff! The Afghanistan exhibit was packed, but we cruised through parts of the Japanese Bamboo Art and Art of the Islamic World without much trouble. I only wish we'd had more time! We arrived at 4 and the museum closed at 5.

We have only one week left of the furlough (or so we continue to hope), so we're packing in the activities this week. On the calendar: Bacon Night at Pop's TONIGHT!, the de Young on Tuesday (Yves Saint Laurent and Maya Lin....eeek!), and the Exploratorium on Wednesday.

When you're furloughed in Frisco and vacay in LA

your kitty forgets who you are.

At least mine does.


Lots of Groceries and I left my cat, Mina, with my parents while we were in LA. I was excited to see her today and went straight to the room she was staying in to say hello. Well, my crazy kitty was simply not interested in any sort of reunion. She's been hiding under the bed all evening and acting like she doesn't even know who I am!

She won't come out at all. However, I'm positive that as soon as we try to go to bed she'll decide that she remembers us enough to jump all over the place to prevent us from sleeping. Maybe if we're lucky she'll even wake us up by throwing mice in our faces. It's one of her best tricks.

My poor kitty. She's so pretty, but so dumb.