Red and Green

For Halloween my student, Mitch, found a parrot on the way to school. The parrot was lying lifeless on the sidewalk and some tourists were trying to pick it up with a newspaper so they could move it to the bushes. Mitch picked up the parrot and brought it to class. Funny thing is he already has a parrot at home. The parrot was pressed up against his chest with it's eyes closed while Mitch rubbed the back of it's head. I told Mitch that the parrot was his new best friend and maybe he and the parrot were meant for each other but he kept telling me that he was going to leave early so he could drop it off at the SPCA. After a while the parrot's eyes opened and before we knew it it was awake and standing on Mitch's shoulder. Mitch left class early to take the parrot home.

Orange and Black

For the past few weeks it has been hard to tell if people have been wearing orange and black in support of the Giants or in preparation for Halloween. Tomorrow it is Halloween AND there is a parade and celebration downtown for the Giants world series win. The other day my friend told me that orange is the color of success. I think I need to start wearing more orange.

Dilemma

This summer I went on a cruise to Turkey and Greece with my grandmother, my aunt, and her husband. It was a fancy affair. The ship was mostly full of Americans and they seemed to all be people who had made it. Made it to the top. The top ten percent. That place that we all strive to get to. The American Dream. Or maybe Heaven on Earth. It is the same place actors arrive at when they stop being good actors because they are removed from everyday day life and they only draw from a distant memories instead of experiences. The cruise was lovely, the food was amazing, I was treated like a princess, I got more relaxed than I have been in years, but I came home without any stories. When people would ask me how my trip was all I could say was, "It was nice." I have a friend who fought his way from dirt poor to the top ten percent and, now that he is there, he is bored out of his gourd. Since this summer, after I got to see what Heaven is like, I have been wondering if that is really a place I want to aspire to be. We went to Greece where they are in the middle of economic hardship and all we saw were the pretty parts. The safe places. Then, on Sunday evening, I was walking home from the Castro after watching the Giants game and I almost got robbed at gunpoint. Again. Or a knife pulled on me. Something, but I didn't stick around to find out. I've seen it before and I know what it looks like. The man walking toward me looked to one side, then to the other to see if anyone was around. He looked straight at me while he reached down into a pocket on the side of his leg by his knee. As I was running in the opposite direction all I was thinking was, "I'll take the 10%, please."

Alice and Alice

Sometimes the two guys who meet up and smoke pot on my front steps at least 3 times a day will end up on the doorstep of someone else's house just down the block. Usually, when I catch them there I say, "What? My steps aren't good enough." But the other day I walked past them standing in front of opponents house and asked them if they knew that they hung out in front of Alice's house and Alice's house. They didn't know what I was talking about so I told them that I was Alice and the other woman's house they smoked pot in front of was also Alice. I think it was too much for their state of mind to take in. "Whoa," was all they could say.

Rivalries

This weekend, besides my soccer game, there are the baseball playoffs. And the 49ers have a game. And the Blue Angels are here for Fleet Week. And there are preliminary races for the America's Cup sailing. And don't forget about the Hardly Strictly Blue Grass concert in Golden Gate Park and the Castro Street fair. Here is a picture of these high school kids who smoke pot on my front steps two to three times a day. They are best friends but you might not know that from this photo. Here they look like enemies.

Alice's Restaurant

Yesterday I went to a cafe near my house to sit and have a cup of tea and work on something. A hipster man in his 20's and a hipster woman in her 20's sat down at a table near me and immediately started complaining about their co-worker. Alice this. Alice that. They kept going on and on and saying the name Alice over and over. Finally their food came and they stopped talking while they stuffed their faces. It wasn't long before the table next to them started complaining about someone they knew. Her name was also Alice. The couple at the first table looked at each other and laughed. I didn't think it wasn't funny, it was distracting. I had to leave.