I don't really know what I am musing on these days. It's more like an irregular stream of consciousness thing...it seems to be working.


December 2008
November 2008
October 2008
September 2008
August 2008
July 2008
June 2008
May 2008
April 2008
March 2008
February 2008
January 2008
December 2007
November 2007
October 2007
September 2007
August 2007
July 2007
June 2007
May 2007
April 2007
March 2007
February 2007
January 2007
December 2006
November 2006
October 2006
September 2006
August 2006
July 2006
June 2006
May 2006
April 2006
March 2006
February 2006
January 2006
December 2005
November 2005
October 2005
September 2005
August 2005
July 2005
June 2005
May 2005
April 2005
March 2005
February 2005
January 2005
December 2004
October 2004
September 2004
August 2004
July 2004
June 2004
May 2004
April 2004
March 2004
February 2004
January 2004
December 2003
November 2003
September 2003
August 2003
July 2003
June 2003
May 2003
April 2003
March 2003
February 2003
January 2003
December 2002
November 2002
October 2002
September 2002
August 2002
July 2002

-- HOME --

-- RSS 1.0 --


Soskins Media
C.C. Books

Powered by Movable Type
« October 2008 | Main | December 2008 »

w November 18, 2008

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

It will come as no surprise to anyone, I'm sure, that I am a city girl, born, and mostly bred (we'll ignore the early years in west Texan deserts and western North Carolina mountains. Speak of this to no one). I appreciate nature, but I appreciate it most from behind a healthy amount of viewing glass, not least because it all makes me sneeze mightily, but also because, frankly, I respect that a lot of the fauna has...big teeth. We don't live in a city right now, and while we don't exactly live out in the country, we *are* up in the hills of San Mateo County, and quite close to Edgewood Park, which is a smallish but nice county park. With...fauna. As in big teeth fauna. As discovered anew last night at about midnight when Gene was out walking the dogs around the corner from our house and came face to face with a mountain lion.

A MOUNTAIN. LION. Lion, from the mountain. Cougar. Puma. Whatever the hell you want to call it, it had big teeth.

Being the country boy that he is, he just stood his ground and the cat kept on its delicious venison hunting mission (BEHIND OUR HOUSE), and didn't even blink at the tasty and available medium sized dogs on pull strings (who, incidentally, apparently didn't even notice the big honking predator in their midst. Useless fleabags).

He called the sheriff, who gave him Fish & Game's number, where there is...nothing for reporting these things. You can report poaching, apparently, but not, say, semi-urban sightings. Huh.

I freely admit this whole experience rattled me a bit, even though I rationally know that there are enough deer and house cats and squirrels around here to keep even the hungriest mountain lion satiated, but oh, for a nice rabid city raccoon or a filthy pigeon. Sigh.

by Heather Hoffman at 7:20 AM

w November 13, 2008

Surreal Like Dali With a Side of Absinthe

A friend pointed me to Overheard In Minneapolis, which is insane in its own right, but if you go to Overheard Around The World, it gets even better. It's like the cheapest, least unhealthy trip ever. I am particularly fond of this entry from Overheard In New York:

You Always Hertz the One You Love

Thug on cell: Yo, hearse rent a car? Yo man, I need to rent a hearse. Yeah, I'll hold. (pause) Y'all don't rent no hearses? Why y'all call yoselfs hearse rent a car? (pause) Word? Well, I need to move a body, maybe you got a van or something? (pause) I don't care, I just need to move his dead ass. (pause) Cargo van? Whatever. Yeah.
Thug's friend: Ask if they got am'blances.

--Grand Concourse, 158 St

I'm still laughing, because my sense of humor is felonious. See? Surrealism.

by Heather Hoffman at 6:25 PM

w November 12, 2008

Perhaps We'll Rethink Our Stance On Public vs Private...

Note that it's a distinguished school...from 1997. The middle school where I taught was like this, a one time distinguished school from years ago - never could quite figure that one out. Though maybe the below image explains it:


Thanks to FailBlog

by Heather Hoffman at 8:36 AM

w November 11, 2008

All Your Dollhouse Are Belong To...

Well, me. For tonight. We got Peabo a dollhouse for her upcoming second birthday, and my mom, sister, and sister in law pitched in with furniture sets and doll families to make it a real plug-and-play. Gene and I put it together tonight and as much as I loved my 2 up, 2 down-handmade-by-Grandpa dollhouse as a kid, this 8 piece modular one makes me drool. I spent a gleeful ten or fifteen minutes arranging the furniture (and it is so.cute.you.would.die), prompting Gene to take a picture of me and ask "and...whose dollhouse is this again?".

Tonight, it's mine. As of Sunday, it's hers and I will play whatever imaginary game she wants.


by Heather Hoffman at 9:13 PM

w November 06, 2008

Warning: Cheesiness Ahead

There, you've been forewarned. Anyway, I was driving up to the city today and as I got into town, happened to see a young black man walking on an overpass over the freeway. Just a regular teenager, plugged into his iPod like every other kid out there. What struck me was, regardless of what happens in the next four years, regardless of your personal politics, a corner has been turned where maybe we can look at every child and see limitless potential...for real.

I'm going to paraphrase a line from Ratatouille, one of our favorite movies around here:

"Not everyone can become a leader...but a leader can come from anywhere"

Cheesiness off. Back to eating the kids' Hallowe'en candy.

by Heather Hoffman at 3:27 PM

w November 05, 2008

On A Funnier Note

Peabo is quite fond of the Little Einsteins (so are we and Bean too, for that matter - good music and art), and we discovered this past weekend that she can actually ask for it by name...sort of.

Gene had ripped a DVD for his laptop and my iPhone to take with us for plane and other location entertainment, and at one point during the trip, Peabo started shouting very emphatically, "STEINS!"

Is it just me, or does it sound like she's reprimanding a kvetching couple from Palm Beach? It never fails to crack us up, at any rate.

by Heather Hoffman at 5:50 PM


Pyrrhic Victory

In California, we have it.

Today is a hell of a day. We fucked up. Big time.

by Heather Hoffman at 12:25 PM

w November 04, 2008


I had of course heard for months upon months that voter turnout was expected to be at an unprecedented high this Election Day. This did not prepare me for the crowd at my polling place at 10 a.m., not to mention the friendly, efficient processing of all of us by the poll workers.

As a former U.S. history and government teacher, I can say with some certainty that I was a bit choked with national pride. Regardless of your vote, you VOTED. All I can think is, democracy, we're doing it right.

And anyway, for the record, I voted Obama and No on Prop 8 (California). I know, you're all so surprised.

by Heather Hoffman at 1:57 PM