on the gad

Archive for February, 2013|Monthly archive page

new coffee shop

In more coffee on February 25, 2013 at 4:49 pm

the owl and the pussycat went to see . . . the new coffee shop on dwight near shattuck. and a cute baker-boy with a ring at the end of his nose, his nose (singsong) gave me tips on baking madeleines. so sweet! the owl grumbled that the pussycat could step up her conversational game so that the burden of entertaining each other could be more equally shared but the pussycat was daydreaming about finding a warm patch of sun and couldn’t be bothered. not very wise of the owl to forget that you can’t make cats do anything they don’t want to.


can you believe anthony bourdain got snarly and said there is no such thing as coffee culture? two kinds of people, dude, and you can’t just go around saying the other kind doesn’t exist. lindgren’s coffee and cafe was completely filled on a sunday afternoon with like-minded people interested in setting for awhile in the company of others, sipping a coffee beverage and sampling a baked goodie or two. we were all in the pursuit of light indulgence, light conversation, and lightly committing to sharing some time with friends in the light of day. and sometimes date-lights can lead to something more. the owl and the pussycat went to the hardware store together after coffee.


city mouse

In coffee on February 10, 2013 at 10:39 am

we drive across the richmond bridge with me shrieking, “i’m being hijacked! you’re taking me to moldy mendocino!” he assures me he is not. he wants to toodle up mt. tam. “no! too much nature!” i fuss. so we end up in fairfax where i am soothed with a moonpie and a macchiato.





we stroll about unsupervised, sticking to the sunny side of the street. we are tempted to pluck fruit from a lush orange tree but both of us are too timid. timid comes in all sizes and colors. we accidentally drive to spirit rock and go up the driveway for a lookey-loo. a sign claims that they welcome diversity but for a few terrifying moments when we can’t find an exit we are thinking they might do more than just welcome us. zooming back to berkeley, i have the bright idea that we should visit indian rock where i used to frolic as a teen (didn’t we all?). nature within a city is never too much nature; it is just the right amount. and unlike 4th of july nights when the neighborhood gathers for the annual griping of how it is way too fogged in to see the fireworks, the entire bay vista sparkles below us in the sun-drenched afternoon. i share a deep thought with my companion, “i’ve been thinking about meditation . . . i think it is just practicing being dead.” we ponder this and come to the conclusion i am hilarious. we pass by an overladen lemon tree walking back to the car and then pick up our pace when we hear the owner’s front door open. it’s true: we were having impure thoughts about those lemons.

cake everyday

In coffee on February 4, 2013 at 5:16 pm

i’m pretty sure i flunked the online kaiser health quiz. my unapologetic sun-worship paired with my firm belief in the health benefits of butter plus an un-american claim to have no interest in weight loss did not win me any gold stars. also kaiser thinks i am depressed. i thought checking i am happy sometimes would balance out the i feel people don’t like me sometimes but looks like kaiser does a different type of calculating. kaiser does think i am imbibing just the right amount. i wonder if kaiser likes campari on facebook too.


i have been spending/wasting time with an old old dear friend. not a rebound man exactly; i would say he is my gateway guy. he has so many of those male traits that make us girls want to scramble up the nearest tree and refuse to come down ever again until the planet supports only girls and girly folks who play nice. his inability to listen, a tendency to start fights, and prejudice/phobia towards/of overweight people remind me why i am in no hurry to resume dating fellows again. and meanwhile i enjoy the outings, cappuccinos at the med, funny stories, and impromptu poemy-poos. watch me, i can turn any testosterone-filled man into my best-girlfriend. he and i are kind of like stephen and maurice. but not as funny, talented, or famous. and i’m working on ending our day long adventurous dates just a titch earlier because i suffer from dusk related anxiety, because we are old, and because i have cottoned on to how he is likely to burst into song at twilight. and you know how i hate musicals!