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On this day in 1988 - I was 12 and a betty (that's a chick who skateboards, folks) - I was hanging out with some friends and managed for the first time to do a flawless ollie. And I had a witness. I was so proud I couldn't think about anything else the rest of the day, and the first thing I thought when I woke up in the year 1989 was "I did an ollie!" For your information, I can still do an ollie today. It's like riding a bicycle.
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.: posted by Vera 
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A-ha! Look what I found on Steiner Street today!
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.: posted by Vera
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It's that time. Time for new year's resolutions. Since my blog has almost completely monopolized my life, I am going to list my blog's new year's resolutions first:
My blog's resolutions for the year 2003:
- Find a way to reliably ping weblogs.com without having to switch to Blogger Pro or Moveable Type
- Infuse writing style with a little more elegance by using words like anachronistic or persnickety
- Don't allow any more stupid posts like the one about Bonsai Kitty, which was so embarrassingly obsolete (yes, I deleted the post)
- Attract an exponential increase in regular readers
- See the dawn of the Subastral Lilipad fanclub
- Add at least a couple of more people to the one stalker I already have
- Get some caustic feeback so I can shine with witty comebacks
And here are my own resolutions for the year 2003:
- Pick up some new hobbies like furniture painting or pogo sticking
- Regrow all the hair I lost since 1990: I used to have a 'fro and I don't anymore and I want it back.
- Spend less time blogging, thinking about my blog and writing blog posts in my head
- Spend more time small-talking with the homeless and feeding the ducks
- Get a hand-held device so I can check even from the road if my blog has new comments
- Go to at least one thrift store a week and one flea market a month
- Stop beating myself up over the time in eighth grade when Timo said "You have such a pottymouth, Vera. That's probably why you don't have a boyfriend."
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.: posted by Vera
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If I ever need to have anything pest-controlled, I know exactly who to call.
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.: posted by Vera
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The city
I love the process of getting to know a new city. One by one, you assemble the pieces that make up the geographic puzzle. Some pieces fall into place gradually and you can't pinpoint them temporally. Other pieces you might have to turn around and look at from several different angles before you can firmly put them in place. My puzzle of San Francisco is nowhere near complete but it's getting closer with every month. I think the habituation is especially interesting when you have been to the area in the past but had no idea how the different familiar places relate to each other spatially. In that case you not only try to find your way around, but you overlay your memory imprint of the city with the slowly elucidating mental city map you are building now. I had visited San Francisco twice in 1993 and twice in 1999, and some of the places I had been to before moving here in May were Haight-Ashbury to shop, the corner of Market and Castro to bar hop, Union Square to people watch, and North Beach to eat . After six months of living here, I now know exactly where each of these places is and how to get there. I have finally developed an understanding of how each of them fits into the context of the rest of the city. It's fun realizing when you have bridged another gap in your head, like when you realize that Carl Street is the missing piece between the Sunset and the Haight or that 16th Street connects Noe Valley and Potrero Hill. The other day I found out that you can take 18th Street just as well, but 18th Street has a strange kink in it. That must be why people tend to take 16th Street instead.
From my 1993 trips to San Francisco I remembered that there was one major street that had a row of artificially planted palm trees in the center divider. Shortly after moving here, I determined that that street must have been Market Street. After a month or so, I came across another palm tree-lined street: Dolores Street. After another month or so, I realized that the two palm tree-lined streets actually intersect in one big explosion of palm trees!
The hills in San Francisco add another level of suspense to the discovery. Each time you climb the top of a hill you have never been on before, you get a whole new angle on the cityscape. Thanks to all the hills, San Francisco has many different faces. I happen to live on one of such hills, which is why I have a view of the entire eastern half of the city. Sometimes, after I come home from one of my excursions, I can trace from my window where I just came from and how close I was, for example, to the water or to downtown.
By the way, I still have no clue where exactly this world famous row of houses is, and I can't wait to find out!
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.: posted by Vera
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One of the reasons why electronic music is so appealing to me is that you can rely on it. If you hear an element that you particularly like, be it a howling or a chirping or a rattling or whatever it is that makes you dance harder or your ears smile, you know it will be coming back at least once. It might come back two beats from now, four beats from now or half a song from now. But it will come back at least once. Since electronic music by definition is preprogrammed and repetitive, you know that certain expectations will be met. Sometimes you know exactly which array of sounds is next in the sequence even if you have never heard the song before. Each song has a certain pattern that you will usually have figured out long before the song is over. And if there is an element that you want to hold on to, you can and you will not be let down.
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.: posted by Vera
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I saw this Christmas decoration while driving the other day, and I had to go back and take pictures of it because I absolutely love it. I love it because it's so simplistic. If anyone knows where I can get this or even just the big globes, let me know. What? Yes, I know that Christmas is over already. I wouldn't necessarily use it just for Christmas anyway.
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.: posted by Vera
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What are you doing for New Year's Eve? My boyfriend, three friends and I are going to this. While I'm there, I am going to try my darndest to kiss Paul Van Dyk on the forehead. If the music is meritorious enough, that is.
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.: posted by Vera
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Speaking of photo series from 1998: I found another one. Earlier that year, my friends and I were all at a birthday party when somebody got out a camera and said "Let's make a Photo Love Story." What is a Photo Love Story? Each issue of the German youth magazine Bravo features a Photo Love Story. They usually look kind of like this and always involve at least one make-out session.
If you are open-minded, you might find our Photo Love Story mildly entertaining. Juvenile, but entertaining. If you are closed-minded or are at all irked by same sex affection, do NOT click on the link.
Photo Love Story
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.: posted by Vera
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Four years ago, my bosom friend Julia had to do this photography project for school and asked me to be part of it. Since I will not refuse anyone who volunteers to take pictures of me, I gladly agreed. Here is the result. Only the last three photos actually made it into the finished product that Julia turned in.
Incidentally, I just got a new haircut that looks almost exactly like the one I had back then.
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.: posted by Vera
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You know what really pisses me off? That people are allowed to pronounce Lafayette like La-fee-yette and the name Rafael like Ra-fee-el. Where do you get fee from fa? It should be La-fa-yette and Ra-fa-el.
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.: posted by Vera
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So, my sister tells me that in Spain the Powerpuff Girls are called Las Supernenas, nena meaning little girl. How cute is that?
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.: posted by Vera
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 A Christmas Story: Last night we ate pumpkin, sweet potato and leek soup. I had never eaten or made anything with pumpkin before because carving out a pumpkin one Halloween had convinced me that pumpkins were too gross to eat. But the soup was very yummy. So was the jalapeño pasta salad. Screw "Christmas Hams" and "Green Bean Casseroles."
This morning we got out a dictionary and a thesaurus and taught each other a few new words.
And now I hope you won't mind that I am going to pretend I am eight years old and list all of the shiny stuff I found by our Christmas tree this morning. Thanks. Okay then:
From my brother:
Fuzzy ladybug slippers
From my brother and sister together:
Technasia: Future Mix!! One of the best techno albums EVER.
From my parents:
The perfume Rush by Gucci. I have wanted it for years. You know you want to smell me and get legally high.
A kitchen timer in the shape of a tomato.
A kitchen clock in the shape of a tomato.
A little teddy bear wearing a toga that says "Vera."
A little teddy bear wearing a toga that says "My boyfriend's name."
From my grandparents:
Hand-crocheted handkerchiefs. I think they are trying to get back at me for all the hand-embroidered Christmas presents they got from me between, oh, like 1984 and 1996.
From my friend Kitty:
Two white noodle/soup bowls with chopsticks and spoons aka Noodles-2-Go.
Two blue two-toned and two-textured candles.
From my friend Starrie:
Five CD's, most of them live mixes of herself and two other DJ's she recently had on her radio show.
Indigo Colour Bath to ask the beast that is my Unconscious to come out and play.
A star-shaped (!) piece of soap.
From my boyfriend:
Two candle holders.
A ridiculously large caramel apple candle.
The book The Rules of Attraction by Bret Easton Ellis.
Dieselboy's latest. Dieselboy always delivers, live or on CD. And why is it that songs with hostile names such as "Hostile" or "Stalker" are always the ones I like best? I'm fucking sick.
A CD Walkman. Because the gym isn't as much fun without it.
A flashlight for my nocturnal hunts for monsters, burglars and glasses of milk.
A photo album with VW bugs all over it.
The movie Mixed Nuts. This has been my favorite bad movie since 1994. It's a Christmas movie. It's set in Venice, CA. It's got Steve Martin, Juliette Lewis, Madeline Kahn, Adam Sandler, Rita Wilson and Rob Reiner. It rocks.
Oh, and my boyfriend's favorite Christmas present this year was the People magazine subscription I gave him.
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.: posted by Vera
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I will have to remember NEVER to go grocery shopping on December 23rd again. I thought it would be okay. I mean, I went grocery shopping on Thanksgiving day, and it wasn't as bad as today. I thought sure, going grocery shopping on December 24th would be a bitch, but on the 23rd it should be okay because most mortals still work on December 23rd, don't they? In fact, I think a lot of people even work on December 24th. But I learned today that going grocery shopping on December 23rd is a definite no-go, even in the middle of the day when most people are supposed to be at work. Because see, housewives don't work on December 23rd. That's what the problem was. Everywhere I turned there was a housewife in my way. I had a sizable shopping list but I ended up with only a stalk of celery, a couple of slices of bread and a few mustard stains on my shirt because it was such a battlefield in there. The worst part was when two housewife types were walking through the fat, oil, and grease aisle and one of them said to the other "Bring it on! It's the holidays!" If you are going to say something like that in public, at least have the decency to bring some barf bags for the unsuspecting bystanders.
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.: posted by Vera
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 Today is my sister's 25th birthday. Happy Birthday, Bianca! Turning 25 was one of the best things that ever happened to me, agewise, so far. I hope she will feel the same way.
The last time I had talked to her, she had mentioned that her wardrobe needed a makeover. So I sent her a black thriftstore Bebe T-shirt and a red thriftstore hooded zip-up cardigan for her birthday. When I talked to her today, she said they fit perfectly and are just her style. Yippie!
Bianca has spent the last four months in Spain, studying at the Facultad de Communicación in Sevilla. Right now she is at my parents' house in Nordwalde, Germany for Christmas and Sylvester, but in January she will return to Sevilla for another six months. It all sounds so exciting. She has a roommate named Loles with whom she converses in nothing but Spanish. She eats tortillas and other tapas all day long. She looks at Moorish architecture all day long. Has she visited the Alhambra in Granada? Check. She entertains visitors from her home university all the time. Man, if I wasn't so afraid of flying, I'd totally move in with her and Loles.
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.: posted by Vera
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Yesterday I went to a great video store that was recommended by my friend Carlo: Le Video. It has all the independent, indy-pendendent and foreign movies you can't find anywhere else. We started out by renting Steven Soderbergh's Schizopolis. Soderbergh himself stars as two of the main characters. I was not disappointed. It was very bizarre, reminiscent of Godard's style, and yes, completely schizo. The cover box says "Written by, directed by and starring me, Steven Soderbergh." It also says "All attempts at synopsizing the film have ended in failure and hospitalization." So I am not going to give you a synopsis. Instead I am going to say that when you watch the movie, you will more than once go "What the...," followed by at least one utterance of "What in the...." You will not say these things because of a person drinking liquid doo-doo or a person putting a dead eviscerated moose over their head, but because of people saying things in this movie that simply do not make any sense, like the seductive exterminator who talks dirty in nothing but nouns, and the nouns aren't even dirty. To give you an idea of some of the added bonuses of this movie, here is an excerpt from a conversation between me and my boyfriend during the movie:
He: A couple of scenes ago he turned into the dentist, right?
Me: Yes.
He: Was that before or after everything that came out of his mouth was in Italian?
Me: I think before.
And to give you an idea of just the level of insanity I am talking about, here is an excerpt from a conversation between Fletcher Munson, one of Steven Soderbergh's characters, and his wife as his wife is leaving the house:
Wife: Generic greeting!
Fletcher: Generic greeting! Obligatory question about the evening's activities?
Wife: Oh... Qualified vaguely positive reply. Uninspired description of movie and subsequent conversation with girlfriend.
I loved this movie. I am going to watch it again later today.
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.: posted by Vera
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The Resourceful Person's Recipe for Ferrero Rocher:
Dip a teaspoon in Nutella.
Pull out the teaspoon.
Put a hazelnut on top of the blob of Nutella.
Put the teaspoon in your mouth.
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.: posted by Vera
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I miss Buzz. I could swear I have heard this song spun in the main/progressive room there before. It's from a Dutch artist named Tomba Vira.
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.: posted by Vera
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This is the second rainbow I have seen from my apartment this week.
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.: posted by Vera
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I went to the mall last night because my boyfriend needs some mall clothes for his business casual working environment. While I was at the mall I spotted the Sanrio store. I didn't want to go in, I really didn't because I know how expensive everything is in there, and I didn't want to be in the situation where I can't help but spend $55 on a Hello Kitty bath rug or $25 on a Hello Kitty pencil sharpener. I struggled with myself. It turned into a fist fight with myself, Fight Club style, right there in the mall, and of course I won. So I went into the Sanrio store, and the cutest thing I can report back to you from the Hello Kitty front is the new Hello Kitty Snowman line.
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.: posted by Vera
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I am officially ready for Christmas. Well, except for the part where I buy presents for my boyfriend.
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.: posted by Vera
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The time I almost burnt down the house
I know I should be writing about how Al Gore isn’t going to run for President in 2004 or about the overblown controversy of Trent Lott’s little blunder, but I just don’t feel like it. So instead I am going to write about how I almost burned down the house last night. So last night I almost burned down the house. Whew. The reason this happened is that my boyfriend and I, we like to light incense, and I know that you’re thinking “Oh, no kidding. She lives in San Francisco AND she likes incense? Does she wear patchwork skirts too?”, but hey, my boyfriend used to be a Colorado deadhead, and I, well I just like things that smell nice.
We used to light our incense in this crappy incense holder from, like, the 1870’s, and it just doesn’t do a very good job of collecting and retaining the ashes that fall down, and if Amazon sold incense holders I would so put a new incense holder on my wishlist. But in the meantime, my boyfriend has gotten accustomed to just stuffing the incense stick right into the good old three-wicked vanilla candle because it is good and old and three-wicked and probably big enough to collect and retain all the ashes that fall down from the stick. And since children learn by imitation, I tried to imitate my boyfriend last night and lit an incense stick and stuck it into the good old vanilla candle. But I guess I stuck it in there a little precariously and not far enough, and as the vanilla candle was burning the wax loosened up, and all of a sudden we heard this plonk sound from the table where we have all of our pretty candles set up. My boyfriend looked over at the candles and didn’t see anything unusual. Then I looked over at the candles, and I did see something unusual because, see, I knew that I had stuck the incense stick into the vanilla candle, and now I was looking right at the vanilla candle, but I didn’t see the incense stick. Then I remembered the plonk sound and my eyes widened and I got up and went over to the table that hosts all of our pretty candles. And what I saw next to the table on the floor made me go “Oh shit!” and my boyfriend knows that when I just said “Oh shit!” and I am staring at something but not moving, it is time for him to, like, do something. So he jumped up from the couch and over to what I was staring at, and the poor boy jumped right into the flame with his poor white socks and kept bouncing and trampling like a tribal dancer until the flame had turned into a black spot on the carpet that is probably going to cost us 20% of our security deposit.
For the rest of the night, both of us just sat there with pale white faces because we knew that if we hadn’t heard that life-saving plonk sound, we wouldn’t have known that our incense experience had gone awry until our brandnew red couch was engulfed by flames. And this morning when we got up, the first thing that my boyfriend said was “That incense thing last night really scared me” and I said “Yeah, me too,” and I think I am going to buy a new incense holder today.
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.: posted by Vera
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I think I may have mentioned before that I have a cardigan that is rusting. Well, that was really just a flagrant euphemism because really, the cardigan looks like it has been pooped on by a small animal. I still sometimes wear the cardigan because it cost $100, and it is the only cardigan I have that cost over, say, $15, and I hope that people just won’t notice the stains. I mean, I am not going to let a $100 cardigan rot in the closet just because it has a little thing on the collar that looks just like a turd. So I wore it to our favorite coffee shop on Saturday and I was hoping that people wouldn’t notice. But the thing is that even my cute little lime green dress and the cuteness of the cute little turquoise cardigan itself and the cute little white crochet hat I was wearing didn’t fool anybody. People did notice, I think, because they were looking at me funny and disgustedly, and some children were even pointing at me until their mothers told them not to, and then the mothers just stared at me.
So one of my weekend projects was to clean the cardigan and get rid of the poop look. I drenched the turd look-a-like with soap, rubbed it and rubbed it again and then immersed the whole thing in hot water and let it soak for about three hours. Then I rinsed it and hung it up to dry. And this morning it was finally dry, and I have to say that it doesn’t look like a turd is sitting on the collar anymore. No. It looks like a turd has been spread evenly all over the collar and finally become one with the collar, and now my beloved turquoise $100 Bebe cardigan looks like one of those thrift store cardigans that are so old that the furry collar has turned a different collar from the rest of the cardigan. But I am still going to wear the cardigan, and I am just not going to tell people that it is a $100 Bebe cardigan that has been miraculously defecated on by an invisible animal, but I am going to tell people that it is a thrift store cardigan that I bought for 50 cents, but oh, isn’t it cute?
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.: posted by Vera
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This morning I had just squirted a line of eye cream under each of my eyes when, before I could spread the cream, I was attacked by this whooping sneeze, and after I was done sneezing I looked in the mirror and saw a winter babe complete with white eye liner and white eye shadow.
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.: posted by Vera
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Saturday night I parked in the funnest parking garage I have ever parked in. The area around the elevator on the third floor plays music. Disco music. Loud disco music. This is far from elevator music. This is “I think it’s 1977 and I just walked into a dance club in Manhattan” kind of music. You might feel the urge to move your tush a little on your way to the elevator. Maybe your elbows. You may even have to do at least one full body twirl before you reach the elevator. For a moment I thought I saw pink and green strobe lights. I have never seen a funner parking garage. I am going to park there again today.
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.: posted by Vera
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 I bought a new book at City Lights Books: Nymphomation by Jeff Noon. The cover said "Hi Vera. You know you want me." I have no idea what the book is about. I just thought it might look cute on my bookshelf sandwiched by this book and this one. I didn't enjoy reading either of them very much, but they sure look nice. I will let you know if reading Nymphomation is as much fun as looking at it.
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.: posted by Vera
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Today I am going to be downloading all kinds of Boards of Canada because last night I went to Galaxy Club again, and the DJ played this deifically beautiful song, and I asked him what it was, and he said that it was Boards of Canada, and that is all he said.
Editor's Note: I found the song! I found the song! It's called Amo Bishop Roden. You can listen to most of it on Aquarius Records. Please do. It is AMAZING. When the beat finally comes in? Sheer completeness.
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.: posted by Vera
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I love this picture of my boyfriend. It looks so... alien.
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.: posted by Vera
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My calendar tells me that today is 12-12. My driver's license tells me that my birthday is 5-5. My memory tells me that exactly five years ago today I started a very short relationship with a boy whose birthday is 7-7. Ah, numbers.
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.: posted by Vera
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When I got out of the gym this morning, I got rained on. Heavily. And it felt, um, heroinly good. Then I drove home, and after I got out of the car but before I went into my building, I got rained on some more. On purpose. Have you tried this? Wow. When you know you are about to take a shower anyway and it's raining and it is either not too cold or you are hot, don't bother fumbling with the umbrella or speeding up your pace to escape the rain. Get soaked. Sometimes I see joggers running through heavy rain, drenched in rain and sweat, and I used to think "Those poor people. They should just go home and do their exercise another day. It's raining for crying out loud." But now I understand. I'm with you, joggers in the rain.
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.: posted by Vera
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 Look what I got! A personalized cam picture from Ariel! Yeah! Too cute. It looks like she is putting her new webcam to good use. Thanks to all the super cool people who helped make this happen: arielmeadow.cam is back!
But all this happy hullabaloo brings me to something else: It's December 9th. Holy shit. The webcam was supposed to be a Christmas present for Ariel. Christmas is, oh, about 15 days away. On December 3rd I got an email from my friend Kareen in Norway thanking me for the tea I had sent her as an even more precocious Christmas present. What is wrong with me? Evidently I am way overestimating the mean ogre called Procrastination. But still, December 9th is better than January 9th.
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.: posted by Vera
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Nuh-uh! Somebody just got to my site by googling vera fuck picture rave. This better not be somebody I know.
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.: posted by Vera
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Last night the cashier at Blockbuster said I looked 18. Ha! I don't care if he was lying because he wasn't.
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.: posted by Vera
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The holiday season is great and all, with the pretty lights and the plastic snowmen propped up right next to palm trees, and it's fun staying inside and drinking hot chocolate and pretending that it's really cold outside, and it's nice to fantasize about all the presents you are going to get in a few weeks. But what I hate about the holidays is that all the stores between October and January take the Christmas spirit and the whole concept of the "cold season" a little too seriously and sell nothing but "seasonal" items. If I wanted to buy, say, some place mats for my new table, and if I hypothetically wanted those place mats to be yellow or have daisies on them, I would be screwed. Between October and January I can only buy place mats that are green, red, white, or all of the above. Or if I wanted to buy a head band to hold my hair back, I would have to buy one of those five inch thick cable-knit arctic head bands, even if all I wanted was a little piece of black cloth to tie around my head. And what if I had decided to start going for a swim at the local indoor swimming pool and that my bathing suit was just not going to do it anymore? And what if I then decided to shop for a flashy new bathing suit? Baby Jesus help me. I would have to settle for a forest green bathing suit with Santa and the reindeers running around where my boobs would be. This holiday madness is sick, I tell you, sick.
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.: posted by Vera
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Poll: When do you look your best? Me, I look my best when reflected in the car window. When I am getting in the car, preferably the passenger side - I'm not sure why - and I see my reflection in the car window, that's when I look my best.
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.: posted by Vera
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The other day an American boy, a Dutch girl and I talked about stuff. Here is an excerpt:
American boy: Do you guys have rednecks in Holland and Germany?
Dutch girl: Yeah.
Me: Yes.
American boy: Do you guys call them rednecks.
Dutch girl (duh): No.
Me (duh): No.
American boy: What do you call them?
Me: Where I'm from, they are called farmers.
Dutch girl: We call them Nazis.
Huh.
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.: posted by Vera
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The last time I went to a rave, I met this guy. It was his first rave. Ever since then he has been writing me long emails detailing his weekly raving adventures. This guy is truly dedicated. He drives down from Chico every weekend, parties hard, sleeps in his car and drives back up to Chico.
I love getting his emails because they let me borrow a glimpse at the scene through fresh eyes. This guy loves the music and loves to dance. People call him Crazy Legs. He has been meeting all kinds of people and he has been chilling with the DJ's after their sets. He is completely psyched about this nocturnal aural wonderland that he has stumbled upon one night in October. Old Schoolers and other jaded ravers might be bitter and disillusioned because the scene has gotten too commercial. They might criticize that it isn't underground enough, that it has gotten too much about sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll. And they are entitled to their feelings and to their longing for the past when raves were still the shit. But to the newborn raver, the scene is just as magical in 2002 as it was in 1992. And that's all that really matters.
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.: posted by Vera
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.: posted by Vera
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Check this out. If you order something from Sephora, you can enter FAMILY44 under Promotion Code, and you get 20% off ANY order! How cool is that? Try it out. I just did. It works! But I think it expires in two days, so hurry. And no, I'm not getting paid to tell you this. I am just sharing the love.
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.: posted by Vera
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Today's thoughts:
I think that if a bird shits on you, there should be little bird cops that come out and ticket the bird.
I think that if the person behind the counter at Starbucks looks a lot like Richard Grieco, they should at least try to look a little less like Richard Grieco.
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.: posted by Vera
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My sister has requested a mix CD for Christmas. She doesn't really know what kind of music she likes, and she knows that I know what kind of music I like, and she would like to know what kind of music I like. The task is actually a lot harder than I expected. One reason is that a couple of months ago, the ship that is my hard drive sank and with it went all of my mp3's. I haven't been able to replace much of my original collection. The other reason is that I am afraid that if I burn for her what I REALLY like, the sounds will split her untrained ears. I thought it might be better to show her what I think she might like, or any other person that hasn't been exposed to all that much electronic music. This is what I ended up with:
Aromabar - Winter Pagent
Joi - Asian Vibes (Way Out West Mix)
DJ Rap - Good To Be Alive
Dune - Million Miles From Home
Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence (Sasha & Digweed Mix)
God Within - The Phoenix (Rabbit in the Moon & Scott Hardkiss Mix)
Roni Size - Watching Windows (Ed Rush & Optical Mix)
Miss Kittin & The Hacker - Uno
Rennie Pilgrem - Paranoia
Sons of Mecha - Rockweiller
I named the mix Beauty and the Beast because it starts out with some very pretty and melodic pieces and ends up much darker and headier and a little, well, paranoid. I really hope she likes it. I also hope she won't visit my blog until after Christmas.
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.: posted by Vera
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A few more things I learned this weekend:
If your feet are used to wearing nothing but your pink fuzzy slippers for about four months straight, they will each develop a mean blister on the first day of wearing regular street shoes again.
Two umbrellas are always better than one, even if you're in love.
Some Angelenos are still oblivious to being scorned by San Franciscans.
A queso fundido really is more fun than a quesadilla.
Even if you are generally not a very aggressive driver, you are capable of going upwards of 90 mph and passing cars left and right when the freeway has just cleared up for the first time in about four hours.
If you plan on peeing even once on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, you have to be prepared to do so after waiting in a line of at least 15 families.
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.: posted by Vera
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