Open apology

Dear refrigerator,
I'm so sorry for all the suspicion I've cast upon you and all the rumors I've spread about you and the fact that I've called you "stupid." You're quite old, but you're not stupid. We have this in common. More importantly, you're not the energy glutton I suspected you of being. Not at all. I called PG&E and while they agree that my bills are mysteriously high, they've cleared you completely. Please accept my sincere apologies.

I look forward to working with you for many years to come in a renewed environment of mutual trust.

Sincerely,
Kari

P.S. Water heater? We're going to need to have a chat. The PG&E technician is coming next week to act as moderator.

To begin with, Delfina's across the street

In Bi-Rite Creamery, where I was unapologetically having three flavors (honey lavender, balsamic strawberry, and white chocolate raspberry), I overheard the man next to me (a man, it seems worth noting, who was not having any ice cream whatsoever) declaim to his (ice-cream eating) wife, "Bah. There are two good restaurants in San Francisco: Aziza and Chapeau. The rest is barren. I would rather eat at Burger King in Sunnyvale."

Wha...? I am not sure I have ever heard anyone say anything that amazed me more. In fact, I would probably still be sitting there with my mouth agape in mute shock, but my ice cream was melting so I had to pull myself together.

For a fun visual aid, here is a map of restaurant critic Michael Bauer's top 100 San Francisco restaurants. The two restaurants noted by the Burger King enthusiast are those little flags furthest to the left. That means the other NINETY-EIGHT are in the part of San Francisco we call "not the Richmond District."

Bright new tomorrow

After yesterday's screed, I thought it was only fair to say that today was rage-free, albeit overflowing with calories. Is there a correlation? Quite possibly.

Today there was strolling and breakfast and a book of Italian verbs and tea and readings in a park and music in a bar. There was kind of a tough moment when I dropped in on an open house I happened to pass and accidentally fell in love with an $800,000 condo. Sigh. These things happen. Mostly, though, a good day. Thanks, San Francisco. I hate it when we fight.

Downside: I did eat a burrito in a sort of freakishly ravenous way and for the past--um, going on four hours now-- I have both looked and felt not unlike a boa constrictor. It ain't pretty, but I can't blame anyone but myself for that. Bright side: living alone means no one has to see your blinding white boa-constrictor burrito belly.

In which I am angry and complainy and not amusing

A list of things I hated just in the past three hours:

1. A $14 movie ticket

2. Leaving the house to discover that some [insert stream of expletives] dude has opened my (large, latched) front gate in order to piss in my entryway. The fact that I was home when this happened makes it worse somehow.

2. Looking for a parking place for 20 minutes

3. Homeless dudes standing in vacant parking places waving a white towel so motorists will be able to find said parking spots. This enrages me. Does this make me a terrible person? Perhaps. But I already told you my stance on kittens, so how can you be surprised? Look. I have to park on the street every day. Looking for parking places is the only sport I participate in. I do not need assistance finding an empty METERED space. They are large and readily apparent. Additionally, I do not need to pay a guy for providing a service I did not request and do not require. Another hot tip: as I am usually alone in my car, I do feel great about getting out of it while a strange man waits for me in the dark.

4. Having a guy on a bike with no lights swerve in front of my car and across two lanes of traffic to make a turn with no signal of any kind.

5. The fact that the cyclist was wearing ear stretchers. The fact that anyone outside of the tribe that originated them wears ear stretchers.

6. Getting home and having to get a bucket and broom and set myself to the task of washing someone's piss off my walkway, as I had not had time before leaving--what with the parking situation.

7. The semi truck that uses the bus stop across the street from my house as a rest stop. In fact, he's doing it right now.

8. Having my bedroom smell like pot, which I do not smoke, because people walking down the sidewalk smoke it routinely and lo it does waft into my window.

San Francisco, you are seriously pissing me off tonight.

On the other hand, I do officially have a crush on Ryan Gosling.

People: the bright side

On the most recent "Modern Family" (do you watch "Modern Family?" You probably should. Oh, but it is droll.) Phil and his son Luke are watching a documentary about a tightrope walker. They are both slack-jawed with amazement.

Phil: How awesome are people?
Luke: So awesome.

And that's how all this makes me feel. First of all, Radiolab is unfailingly fascinating and charming and makes you feel curious but never stupid. It is extra heartening that producer Jad Abumrad got a MacArthur Genius Award, which means he'll be able to do even more smart, life affirming things in the future. Ira Glass likes him too.

In a recent episode, there was a segment about whale fall, that is, what happens after a dead whale sinks to the ocean floor. It turns out a lot of things happen. In fact, a dead whale can support a whole host of organisms for 50-75 years. This is something it had never even occurred to me to wonder about. That's the beauty of Radiolab. Those guys are apparently sitting around thinking, "hmmmm. What happens to a dead whale?" and next thing you know you're saying, "Yeah. What does happen to a dead whale?" And then, suddenly, you know.

But wait! There's more!

These women heard that same story and were inspired to illustrate it thusly . It's quite beautiful. I recommend watching the full-screen version.

Whale Fall (after life of a whale) from Sharon Shattuck on Vimeo.

How awesome are people?

So awesome.