rugs and alcohol

Dinner tonight with Keri and Stephen:



Mango margaritas and a big bowl of guacamole. Fruit, vegetables, AND tequila?! If anyone out there can think of a better, more nutritious dinner, I'd like to hear about it.

That reminds me--this morning at work a couple of guys, David and John I think, walked by and were listing off types of alcoholic beverages for some reason. "Jaegermeister shots, straight vodka...." I bounced up from my desk and said, "Ooh, are we talking about breakfast?"

My rug finally arrived today from Agra, after a good month. I decided that since most of my time at home is spent sitting barefoot in front of Laura, my desktop computer, I might as well have a luxurious, hand-knotted, squooshy and beautiful merino rug at my feet. Because that, people, is how I roll.

i am a globe-trotting corporate adult

So, this morning I was wearing a pink fleece Hello Kitty robe and a "someone call the girl police" tank top, and now I am sporting a little barrette with a hedgehog on it.





Because I am all grown up like that, peeps.

more (different) home

I flew down to San Diego (my home town) for the day yesterday to visit my parents and brother. And I got to see my lovely friend Steph and her equally gorgeous son, Henry.



It wasn't all that long ago that Henry was a wee tiny preemie:



It is cuckoo crazy how brilliantly/quickly he has caught up to and (in Auntie Karen's humble opinion) far surpassed his age cohort.

After visiting Steph and Henry (and Steph's most excellent mom, Beth), my mom and I went to church:



I recently swapped some Visa card points for Macy's gift cards, so, really, we had to go. It was our duty to go. And I got a cute brown and cream retro-ish jacket.

On the plane back to the bay area I had everything a girl could want while hurtling through the air in a steel tube at 500 mph: Tom Waits on the iPod, some sock knitting action, and free vodka.



All in all, an excellent day off.

back to nature

The past few months have been quite a trial for me, involving unfamiliar sights, often feeling out of place in the world, and just general disconcertion. I am speaking, of course, about my hair.

My whole life I have been blond. In the beginning, it was easy:





Every morning I would wake up, and I would be blond. Eventually, though, being blond started to involve more and more time, effort, and cold hard cash. But as the above photos clearly illustrate, I am a NATURAL BLOND and it is thus my god given right to remain so by any means necessary. A few months ago, however, after an Unfortunate Salon Incident, I ended up conceding to having my hair colored something other than blond for the first time in my life. It was not an easy transition. I no longer had more fun. I suddenly understood string theory and started getting jokes. Life felt out of balance.

Until today. Today I went to see Lindsay at Acme salon on Sutter St. Thank you, Gina and Erika, for telling me about this genius. I am me again!



And I also have a cute new polka dot dress. And possibly also a new dress from Boden. Um, have I mentioned that it is possible to access the Internet from India, and that I own a credit card?



New clothes, old hair...ahhh. It's good to be back.

the delicious face of jet lag

For some reason I have an inexplicable and yet fervent need to always pretend I am impervious to jet lag. The foundations of this stance are about as solid as Colin Powell's pre-war testimony to the U.N. security council.

After lying awake for an hour and a half thinking of vegan waffles and masala tea, I finally just got up at 4:30 a.m. and made some. This is what jet lag looks like at my house:



As it turns out, jet lag is delicious with a little maple syrup and melted Earth Balance. This interlude is going to necessitate a Workout of Contrition in an hour or so, I think. And then by about 3:00 this afternoon I am going to be a REAL TREAT to be around.

home, sweet home

After 30 short hours of travel, I am back in San Francisco through Labor Day. San Francisco, where the streets are gloriously bovine-free, where there is blue sky and no monsoon, where everything is so very, very, very clean and tidy and not covered with rubble, where people drive on the right (as in correct, but also as in right) side of the street, where the knives are sharp, where the tap water is potable, where burritos exist...



...and where tofu costs 99 effing cents, just as god always intended it to.



Then again, what is one of the few things I bought just now at the store? Mangoes. (Pssst...they have those in India.)

In completely unrelated news, I am looking forward to a run/walk tomorrow because I have this crazzzazy idea that I should race walk the Portland marathon again this year (October 7), despite the fact that I have not been doing any of that, whatchamacallit, oh yeah training. Surely that will help me in my quest to shave 20 minutes off last year's time. Right? Help me out here, people.

the price is not right

I need to start looking at price tags and remembering that the foods I think of as normal, reasonably priced vegan staples are considered insane Western luxuries over here. For example, I bought 4 packages of tofu today, tofu that costs me 99 cents at Richmond May Wah near my house in San Francisco. Here? $3.48. EACH. AND I BOUGHT FOUR OF THEM. I AM AN IDIOT. Add to that the $6.95 jar of Bonne Maman strawberry preserves, the $2.86 cans of chickpeas, the $4.42 box of couscous, the $8.00 box of whole grain Cheerios, etc., and we're talking about some major grocery bills. I mean, I figured these things wouldn't be quite as cheap as at home, but I did not consider that they would be so expensive that I'd be better off buying lunch in a restaurant for four people than buying a box of cereal. I guess I will start cooking my chickpeas from scratch...because I have tons of time I want to spend at the stove every night just to get some goddamn legumes to be edible.

On the other hand, I got 6 lbs of Basmati rice for $2.50 and a big jar of turmeric for 50 cents. Biryani, anyone?

banns of veganism

I have decided that I need to get back on the vegan wagon, as difficult as that may be given that EVERY DAMN THING THEY EAT OVER HERE HAS SOME KIND OF DAIRY PRODUCT IN IT. You have to assume that anything in a restaurant was prepared with ghee (clarified butter) instead of vegetable oil, so as a vegan you are kind of screwed. And if it doesn't have ghee, it has yogurt or cream. You may also recall my mentioning earlier in these pages that I have developed an Advanced Paneer Disorder, a malady now paralleled in severity by a Pitiless Ice Cream Affliction. Miss Karen simply should not be allowed unfettered access to dairy products, let's leave it at that.

It is actually pretty easy to be egg-free here (they call this "pure veg" or "100% veg," and entire restaurants are often restricted to such food), but veganism is essentially unheard of, and good luck trying to convey that kind of dietary restriction to a waiter. If anything they think you are asking whether something has ghee in it because of course you must WANT there to be ghee, as ghee is ever so very delicious and what sort of crazy person would want ghee-free food?

This is the boringest post ever, but I am going to publish it anyway because I want it to be public knowledge that I AM VEGAN AGAIN AS OF RIGHT NOW. (I would have started this morning, except Gina left me her last couple of Hello Kitty Meow-Berry Pop Tarts, and I'm only human for crying out loud.)

moooombai

OK, so you come to India and you kind of are prepared to see cows walking around the city. I mean, you're an educated person, you've heard of this stuff. And then you get here and the first few times you see cows in traffic you get all excited and take photos because, look! cows in traffic! that is so awesome, and we love awesome! And then it just keeps getting more and more normal and you even start to think it's cute when a new person is visiting and gets all excited about cows in traffic. Geez, big deal, cows in traffic; tell me something I don't know. At least wait to get excited when you see an elephant or a monkey or a great white shark or something in traffic. Pfft. I mean, cows in traffic? Big whoop.