Back to the Bay - The Big Move

It's happening.

I am so excited.

Don't get me wrong, we're going to miss our church. Our church in Bakersfield has a great group of people. I would recommend it to anyone who is progressive and finds themselves in Bakersfield.

I also loved my job here. I really enjoyed teaching writing. I would love to do more of it. I also love teaching adults. If I had to choose one age bracket to teach, I'd choose adults every time.

So yes, we will miss those things. And we will miss the friends we've made in Bakersfield.

But... the Bay. The BAY! We have several good friends in the Bay whom we've missed terribly. These friends not only have similar understandings of life, but they are adventurers. They like to try things, and play in life. It's something that is drastically different from Bakersfield, generally.

In addition to the change in people, the Bay is the kind of place that throbs with creative energy. Forget writer's block! Inspiration here I come! Needless to say, I'm excited about the possibilities for my writing and my art.

It's a new era, and I'm so ready for it!

American Pluralism - If You Don't Love It, Leave It

My husband is repeatedly exposed to country music at his work, which regretfully gets stuck in his head. Don't get me wrong, there is some good country music with good messages. There's even some country music I enjoy. But just like all music, there's some really bad stuff out there too.

Then of course, there's stuff that makes me want to punch people.

This side of country music represents a certain portion of the population that misses the "good ole days" when everyone was the "same" in America. Fightin' Side of Me and songs like it, represent the provincial white American protestant male. And these boys are scared. They're scared because suddenly there are a lot fewer of them and a lot more "others." While living in the Bay Area, the average person was about five or six indefinable ethnicities. The blond and blue-eyed were much more rare.

The problem with the US is it has never been a country where everyone was "the same." In fact, that is one of the best things about America. Difference defines us. It makes this country stronger because we fight with each other until we figure out a common ground. We have people of every race, culture, creed, and religion in this country. We have people of every political and socio-economic persuasion. It is increasingly impossible to look at a person and know who or what they are. We have to ask. And this characteristic is a pain in the ass, no question. But it makes us better because when we struggle through our differences, we become stronger. We know and love ourselves better, and we adhere to our convictions that much more.

Despite the positives, some would rather not have this high level of difference. This particular characteristic - pluralism - is annoying to those who long for a mythical past where everyone was white bread, drank lemonade, and had mothers who looked like Donna Reed (Sorry guys, but that only happened on television!). In a world where the white American male is already a dying breed, and identities become increasingly complex with lines constantly shifting and blurring, it makes sense this group would get angry.

But I've come to put a little perspective on this. Boys, calm down!

There are reasons why people come to the US. We are ultimately a nation of immigrants. Let me give you a few examples. When I studied abroad in Hungary in 2004, some of the students I met made anti-semitic comments. I distinctly recall my shock at the words coming out of these kids' mouths. Did they not remember the Nazi party of their own country? Could they not see the beautiful but empty synagogues testifying to the systematic destruction of European Jews? I couldn't believe this was still alive and well. It makes sense to me that certain groups would want to leave a place where they were still unwelcome after all these years. But anti-semitism isn't the only reason why someone might come to the states.

When I was visiting Nicaragua in 2002, I saw the deep lingering scars left by their civil war. The abject poverty of mountain villages was astounding; even a 10 cent bag of rice was out of reach. I can understand why those people would struggle to move to a place where they could be safe and have opportunities to make more money to provide for their families. Economy and security are just two more reasons why someone would become American. But America isn't just a land of opportunity - America is the land of equal opportunity.

While I was in India in 2007, it struck me as strange that it was impossible to get away from ethnic origins. Every single surname pinpointed the exact location of a person's family - from their region and dialect, to their caste. As much as someone wanted to be heard and valued, as much as someone wanted to work to better themselves, there was always a painful, and acknowledged, glass ceiling. It makes sense then, for these people to move to a place where they could, in theory, change their economic and social fate.

There are many reasons for people to come to the US. These are personal examples of times when I could see why someone would move here. However, these aren't the only situations. In other places it is still possible to be persecuted for what a person believes or thinks. It is still possible to be jailed for speaking out against the government. Luckily for us, that is something that distinctly goes against the American grain. We have freedom of speech. It's great! I love it! And I will defend that right for those with whom I adamantly disagree. The reason is I think it is important. It is one of the ways we become a better society.

It is patriotic to disagree. It is patriotic to stand up for what we believe in. It is patriotic to say we should work for peace, rather than killing people. It is patriotic to say that corporations should just be companies, and not considered people by law. It is patriotic to say rich people should give back that much more because of all they have taken from their fellow citizens. These are patriotic opinions that have a place in our American political conversation. Why? Because they all strive to make this country better. And they require all of us to address these issues. We really can't ignore these voices when we live in a democracy. It's immoral, and frankly it's un-American.

I'm  willing to put up with the consequences of living in a society of difference. I love it and value it. It's one of the things that truly makes me proud to be American.

And to those who don't have the balls to do the same, well, you can leave.

The Nile - Adventures in Bako

I found out yesterday that the guy who hit my car didn't have insurance. It took his supposed insurance company a month to figure this out and let me know. Yeah. I was pissed and hyped up on adrenaline.

So, like the healthy people we are, we decided to self-medicate. First we tried to find a little quiet bar, but, well, let's just say that didn't work out. We still wanted to go somewhere. I wanted a beer really badly. We had heard the Nile was a cool location, so we decided to check it out.

We parked a block away and walked over. Outside the place was a group of people, most of them in black, smoking and talking loudly. At the door was a large bouncer who didn't check our IDs (I guess we're past that point now...) or ask for a cover. I think there was a cover at some point based on some things said later in the evening, but we didn't have to pay. When we walked in, there was dubstep blasting over the speakers and the decor was kind of retro cool. I immediately liked the place. Then I noticed there was a band setting up on stage. We decided to stay anyway because we remembered to bring earplugs to save our ears.

We waited forever at the bar to get drinks. While we waited, some guy gave us a band's handmade demo. Literally, the paper in the CD case had been printed at home and cut by scissors while the CD itself was labelled with permanent marker. I was mildly excited because the disc said Ruby Skye on it - which made me think of the club in San Fransisco. So far, so good.

Finally the bartender came over and gave us our drinks. I don't order bottle beer at bars on principle and the Nile doesn't have taps, so we both got mixed drinks. While they were very alcoholic, they weren't very good (very few people can get a Long Island right, so it's a good test drink). The band began to play, and it reminded me of art school and high school mixed together. They sounded like they wanted to be somewhere between Tool and Shiny Toy Guns. Unfortunately, they were just weird. After only a few songs they thanked the crowd and said another band would be coming up. Huh?

I think there was a battle of the bands. I'm not exactly sure. It could have been a charity concert. The MC didn't clarify anything when she spoke between sets. There also appeared to be a raffle, but I don't know where you bought tickets for this or why this was a part of the evening. Well, this second band was pretty good. They had an electric cello/trombone player that made their band. It helped that their bassist had an amazing mustache too. Well, that just upped their entertainment value anyway. Then a third band came on which we weren't all that into, but they weren't horrible.

At this point, Christian decided to go get us some more drinks. He was gone for maybe a minute when this random guy sat down at our table and introduced himself. He was asking me questions, clearly trying to hit on me. I couldn't help but smile because it was a lost cause. Then when Christian came up, he left almost immediately. Poor guy. Christian was more amused because it turned out while he was standing at the bar, there was a girl who stood uncomfortably close to him. It was clear she was trying to get him to hit on her because she stood about six inches away while the entire bar was completely free of people.

Another band came on which was a bad mod group with a strange art school video going on in the background. At this point, we decided we were done.

Needless to say, I would give the Nile a second chance because the night was clearly unusual for them.  They have cool decor, a dance floor, and a stage. The place has room to be totally awesome. I just hope the bar situation is better when we go back.

New Year, New Genre? - A Writer's Goals for 2012

I've been hemming and hawing about this post. Last year I made some grandiose goals that were impossible to reach, and I knew they were, but I made them anyway. Because of what I learned in 2011, I feel better equipped to tackle 2012. Of course, a lot of things have changed since last January.

Since January 2011,

1. We moved from Hayward to Bakersfield.
2. Christian and I were apart for 2 months during the summer.
3. We sold our house in Phoenix.
4. I published The Brothers in digital and paperback formats.
5. I finished writing Lovers and Rivals as well as an unrelated book, James: The Rollins Pack.
6. I also began Lilith and Ammon, book 3 in the Khloe Alwell Series, as well as novelized the majority of the first script of The Apex Saga, Legion.

 All in all, I feel pretty successful in what I was able to do considering some of the life changes that happened this past year. I feel this way despite not having reached my stated goals.  So I guess the question is, what's on the docket for 2012? Well, quite a lot is happening actually.

1. I will publish both James and Lovers and Rivals in the next couple months (both as ebooks and paperbacks).
2. I will co-write at least two scripts for The Apex Saga.
3. I will likely finish Lilith and Ammon, hopefully publish it, and get started on book 4 of Khloe.
4. I expect to work on, if not publish, book 2 and 3 of The Apex Saga.
5. I'm hoping (if I can find the time, and depending on how James is received) to write a sequel to James' story from the perspective of Jeremiah, his older brother.
6. I will play badminton more or less every Sunday afternoon.
7. I'm going to get totally awesome at Zumba 2 for Wii.

This might be a little ambitious, but I think I can do it.  The reason I'm being so intense about my writing is because I have read, time and again, having more books out is better. The reason for this is because you appear more serious as well as having more ways for potential readers to get hooked on your stories. It's a good thing I'm so prolific.

In any case, I hope you'll all follow along on my super intense writing journey during 2012.

A Holiday Party With Reagan - Adventures in Bako

Airforce 1

It sounds strange, and indeed, it was. For our holiday party, my work sent us to the Reagan Presidential Library.

My work has this cool tradition. Their holiday parties are a surprise. So you RSVP, knowing only the date and the type of clothing required for the event. Then when it gets closer to the date of the party, you find out when you'll get picked up by the buses, and when you'll return. That's all. The bus driver doesn't even know where he's going until he gets a phone call from someone in the corporate office telling him the last leg of the trip.

And they've gone to some really cool places - done some really interesting things - Universal Studios for example. Except this year they took us to Reagan's library.

Nancy's Dresses

Now, one thing you have to know about me is that my grandmother (bless her heart!) might have disowned me if I ever became a registered Republican. And I never have been registered as such. Right now, I'm not even registered with the Democratic party because they have been less than spineless when it came to many issues recently. That said, I spent my time in college and graduate school studying international politics, social movements, history, and sociology. I made it my business to study war and peace and non-violent social movements. I'm a firm believer in the government stepping in and supporting its citizens in certain areas, including education and healthcare. Needless to say, the Republican party and I have not gotten along during my lifetime.

I also do not worship people. People are just people, doing ordinary things. Sometimes luck and fate smile on a person, but there is no reason to admire that person so much more than another. It's the major reason I have never been ga-ga over celebrities, including politicians.

So learning about Reagan at the library was interesting, but it was also annoying.

Section of the Berlin Wall

Presidents get credit for both good and bad events occurring during their time in office. This happens even when the majority of said events have little, if anything to do with the president's actions. So the Berlin wall, the whole crash of the Iron curtain - I don't think that had anything to do with Regan, not really. He was in office at the right time. Lucky for him.

There are of course other things, which the president has direct influence over. I think particularly of that wacky idea perpetuated by fear and ridiculous prejudice - yes, the Pinko Commie threat. Having visited Nicaragua, a place that was war torn, in major part because of the interference of Regan's government during the 80s, I have a bitter taste in my mouth for Regan. Many horrible things that happened in Nicaragua could have been avoided if Reagan's government hadn't gone in and manipulated the situation there. "Peace through Strength" is a ridiculous concept - one that really doesn't work. But then again, I have never liked armies, or the aftermath they always leave behind them.

Besides these questions which were raised by the exhibits in the museum at the library, I was irritated by the "funeral room." There were actually people walking through this portion of the museum and crying. Now, I understand Reagan was a man who did impact the world significantly for 8 years. I get that. But I doubt most of these mourners were friends and confidantes of the man. To me, Reagan was not lamentable as I did not know him. Of course it is sad when anyone dies, because they had family and friends who will miss them. But this person was so far removed from the average American, it seems strange that anyone would feel the need to actually cry in reaction to his death. It's not like, for example, a holocaust or genocide exhibit, where you might be moved at the systematic destruction of a people with unique culture and society. A single man's death is sad, but it is not cause for sobbing when you didn't really know him. This seems especially true if he was president before you were aware of the distinction of the executive and judicial branches of government.

A metal beam...

This would have been enough for me to wonder at the whole strange experience, but there was one other thing that made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. Somehow a beam from one of the World Trade Center towers was on display in the Reagan Presidential Library. Yes, a rusted beam.

You might be asking yourself, "What the hell does that have to do with President Reagan?"

The answer is, nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have no clue why that rusted beam was being exhibited in a museum tribute to Reagan. We were told it would eventually be shipped off to a navy ship. I guess it was meant as a symbol to spur men and women in the armed forced to fight for freedom, or some other abstract concept which might be made more concrete by a metal support beam.

Yes, this was probably the last place I would choose to go with anyone from my work, possibly anyone I know socially ever. I did learn some things about Regan, and about his legacy. The museum confirmed what I knew - that he was just a man. He might have been a man who reinvigorated the Republican party and led one of the major superpowers of the time, but he was still just a man.

The question now is, will I go to the holiday party next year, hoping they go somewhere that I would appreciate a little more? Probably I will. Even though I became irritated by some of exhibits and fellow attendees, it was an experience I wouldn't have otherwise had. Besides, I can still hope for Magic Mountain.

Accidents - When Impalas and Proteges Collide

Poor Protege!

I had never been in a real car accident until today. Before today, I had been bumped so that my then Volvo tank didn't get a scratch. I had even been in a situation where my friend was driving and his tire was popped. We stood in the rain while he put on the spare. But today I was in a real accident, one that did damage.

And thankfully, this time, it was the other guy's fault.

I have always been a big proponent of being careful on the road. I always double check my blind spot. I use my blinkers. I anticipate where other drivers will be on the road at least several seconds in front of me. I scan my mirrors. In many ways, I'm a textbook driver (Well, I did say in many ways!). So I watched with horror as I completed my U-turn, or attempted to this morning, as the other driver failed to look where he was going. In fact, his head was turned a completely different direction.

It seems strange to me that I should go through life in many places with horrible traffic, and yet the first time I am in a real accident, it's in a place like Bakersfield. I mean, I survived 9 months in the Bay Area, where driving is a contact sport and frankly death defying! I even lived in Phoenix, escaping the oblivious Toyota driving snow-birds and the gun-toting alcoholic Ford drivers. I even survived living in Santa Barbara and driving through Montecito where drivers assume they are entitled to go whenever and wherever they want. 

The saddest thing is the damage may be enough to total the car. This is in part because the car is a 2003 model and damage this extensive will likely total the vehicle. So I guess I'm going to have to go car shopping? *sigh*

Toy Runs in Side-by-sides: Adventures in Bako

I didn't expect to be at Valley Cycles before 7 am on a Sunday. The sun wasn't really up. In fact, it was just deciding to shine. Over the course of the next hour, Polaris and Yamaha vehicles lined up in preparation to trek across Bakersfield. With our toys in the back, Christian and I hopped into a red Ranger 500 (the least powerful thing present) and started our off-roading go-cart of a machine.

As we sped down the road, I couldn't help grinning, despite the sandy wind in my face. It's not every day you get a chance to ride in a side-by-side down the road. The four wheel vehicles handle like go-carts, and with their high center of gravity, drifting around corners at any kind of speed is not only possible - it's easy.

Our first stop on the toy run, was a nearby park on Rosedale Highway. Along with our substantial line of side-by-sides, different car and motorcycle groups rallied together to check out vehicles and stage the final step of our journey. After checking out everything from T-buckets, to vintage BMW motorcycles, we made our trek through Bakersfield to the fair grounds.  What everyone neglected  to mention, was our group was a sort of parade. Every intersection was guarded by police who ensured traffic worked with our group. At every corner, business, and house, there were small groups of children, families, teens, and adults waving and smiling to us. A few people had giant American flags and vet symbols, while others had homemade signs wishing us a 'Merry Christmas.' As I waved and smiled, I couldn't help but feel warm inside, no matter how cold my toes might have been. Here we were, providing a little free entertainment in the long line of spectacular vehicles that paraded through Bakersfield. Along with that, we were all donating at least one toy for a child in our community so they could have a happy holiday season. Plus, it didn't hurt that we got to speed through Bakersfield at top speed for our side-by-side.

When we finally got to the fairgrounds, we dropped off our toys and made our way into one of the two major buildings. Inside were booths for different charities, community organizations, and local artisans. In addition, there were different food vendors and a band per building. My favorite was 1916, a band where all the members wore big black boots and different kilts. They even had a bagpiper for a little icing on their celtic-punk musical cake.

Normally I would have felt bad about skipping out on church, but the toy run was worth it. Not only did we get to do some good for the community, but we also had some time to socialize and play on some fun vehicles that are normally relegated to dirt and sand. If you're a motor-head in Bakersfield next holiday season, I would definitely make sure you show up for the toy run. It's super fun and spreads quite a bit of holiday cheer all around.

Basque Food - A Bad Idea - Adventures in Bako

Okay people. I don't know whose bright idea it was to conspire against unsuspecting newbies, but it's not cool. I am here to attest to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Bakersfield Basque food sucks.

If you want overcooked vegetables, cold spaghetti, unsalted over fried french-fries, rubbery shrimp, and chilled cheap wine, then by all means, go eat Basque. I personally don't want to pay $20 a plate for parmesan cheese from a Kraft cheese container on my pasta.Even the flan was rubbery and flavorless. This, my friends, is impressive. The level of fail was so complete, it was unbelievable. I would NEVER EVER take a friend to a Basque restaurant. And this, is not even discussing the amazing and infamous pickled cow tongue. Yeah. Try and imagine if freshwater eel, vinegar, and rotting beef were put together. That is the texture and flavor. So if you're into that, sure - eat it. But for my part, I'll stick to steakhouses.

I am warning you so you don't make the same mistake I did. Don't believe the people who say this thing is so delicious. It's just not true. You'd get higher quality and better prepared food at a steakhouse. Honestly.

And guys, we went to the BEST Basque restaurant, supposedly, in Bakersfield. We went to Wool Growers.  This is the place Barbara goes to when she comes to town. In fact, she comes to Bako specifically for this restaurant. I guess when you have millions of dollars, paying $20 for bizarre less than diner quality fare doesn't bug you. For me, I'd rather go elsewhere.

So, for the love of GOD, don't do it. Just don't. It's not worth it. Unless you have Monopoly money.

CALM - Adventures in Bako

Black Bears at CALM

This past Saturday I got the chance to visit the California Living Museum in north Bakersfield. It happened to be the same time as their special event, "Boo at the Zoo." This meant the place was swarming with children dressed as pirates, witches, fairies, and superheros. In the green spaces there were games where children could win candy. Professional face-painting was available as well as a number of different food vendors.

Beyond the special event however, CALM (as it is affectionately known) is a great place. It's filled with native wildlife from all over California, complete with a reptile house, small mammals, foxes, bears, and birds of prey. This isn't to mention the large cats.

I had no idea there were so many different kinds of snakes in California alone. I should have known, I guess, except I'm not very curious about reptiles usually and I certainly don't think about them on a regular basis. Even though I wouldn't consider myself a snake person, many of the animals were incredibly beautiful with their colorful glistening scales and their perfectly camouflaged bodies.

Along with the reptiles were small mammals. It was the first time I had seen a desert rat up close. Frankly they're much cuter than regular rats, even with the scaly tails. In other enclosures porcupines and skunks slept sweetly reminding me of animals that have been close to me (Specifically I think of my cat. Is it weird that I compare wild animals to my pet cat?). Unfortunately most of the animals on display were nocturnal, so the majority of the animals were asleep.

With the bears it was humorous. The two black bears were sleeping at the edge of their enclosure - one of them was on his back. This one's legs were splayed, his mouth hanging open, and every so often his jaw would shake or clench like he was in the middle of a food dream.

Mountain Lion at CALM

While there were other animals there - all of them interesting and stunning, including the regal birds of prey - none compared to the awesome power of the great cats. At the cat enclosure, the bobcats and the mountain lions were being fed. Because of "Boo at the Zoo" they were being fed their regular meals encased in jack-o-lanterns. The small bobcats marched around their space happily gnawing on bits of flesh. Meanwhile, the mountain lions were exploding their jack-o-lanterns filled with meat.

CALM isn't the biggest zoo, but it's a good size with good exhibits that is a great place to take your family (or just because). It has interesting animals and has fun events for children (did I forget to mention it has a train?). If you're in Bakersfield and have a free afternoon, the California Living Museum is definitely a place you want to check out.

Make-over? From Cathy with Love

I'm going to be honest, I am not a sales type of girl. I don't usually like interacting with people at stores except on my own terms. In fact, I really don't. I find it frightening. This isn't because the people are actually scary, they really aren't. Mostly it's just because I hate it when people try to force me to do something I don't want to do. It stimulates my fight or flight response.

Let me give you an example. When I was a freshman in college, one of my friends got it in her head that she should tweeze my brows. Now, I have pretty nicely shaped brows, but my dad is Celtic and my mother's part French. They did need a little shaping. However, I was convinced this was going to be painful and I had no intention of anyone causing me pain. So she, and another of my friends (I use this word loosely here... though I do still like these two women), tried to grab me and hold me down. I'm glad my crazy strength kicked in at that moment because otherwise it could have been really bad - picture tweezers in the eye. :-/

Needless to say, after I dragged two young women down the entire length of the dorm hallway (they were latched onto my ankles), they decided maybe it wasn't worth it to try to pick off a few stray hairs.

You can imagine how I might react to people in stores if I would react to my friends this way.

Still, every now and then, I give in. Today was one of those times. There is a sweet lady from my church who sells Mary Kay. Now, I had never tried Mary Kay cosmetics, nor had I any idea what kind of quality they were etc. I was flying blind. The woman invited me to come to her house for a little session where we could try out some products and do my face. I have to admit, I was a little nervous about it. I was concerned I was going to get pushed or something, but I was pleasantly surprised.

After my facial/make-over

I have to hand it to that company. They know what they're doing. Your beauty consultant becomes your friend. Honestly, the only other time I had felt this kind of concern from anyone was in a lingerie boutique and possibly Sephora (though at Sephora, it should be noted, the associates don't become your friends while they might at a high-end lingerie shop). I left with super soft skin, some awesome looking make-up, and a few free samples (plus Cathy gifted me with some eye cream!).

Unfortunately, a lot of the skin products were a little out of my price range (when I say a little, I mean, quite a lot at this point). But the make-up itself is about the same as if you were buying something from the drug store, except it's way better quality. So, would I buy some of these things if I had the cash? Yes, absolutely. They're still cheaper than the same quality you would get of a designer brand like Chanel etc. Plus, you get to go to little parties at people's homes and you get to try out different colors than maybe you would normally use on a typical day. That's not the mention the fact that you get someone who keeps track of everything that you buy and use and teaches you how to use these things. She becomes your friend. And she's your Mary Kay hook-up. Sweet.

Adventures in Bako - The Padre Hotel

Last night I finally got the chance to go out on the town in Bakersfield. Having been urged several times by multiple people to check out the Padre, we decided to give it a go.

There are a few things that a person needs to know upon entering the Padre.

1. It's an old hotel that has been renovated.
2. It's the kind of place that you go to see and be seen.
3. You won't believe you're in Bakersfield.

That's just for starters. We only made it into the downstairs bar and dance club which was enough to give us a general idea of the place. It struck me the number of blond heads present - and the overall height of the clientele. People who go to the Padre are tall - about a head taller than me, and I'm not short. I felt like I had stepped through a portal into Santa Barbara or some other place where tall blond-haired people frequent.

In addition to this, the clientele ran the full range of ages. There were people who looked like they had recently turned 21 (well, at least their IDs said so - though I couldn't believe it judging by their faces) and then there were people who had WHITE hair (looking for a sugar baby?).

The strangeness of the demographics for the location aside, the place was hoppin' and it was cool. I particularly liked the gray paisley seats and the techno music at the bar. The dance club had an unfortunate cover of $10 which made it out of the range of most people these days (think: anyone without steady income or a steal of an apartment rental) especially if you wanted to get drinks TOO. That said, when we did go inside, they had cool laser light shows going and were playing an interesting mix of top 40 from the past and present. Besides the incredibly packed nature of the room, it was perfect for dancing.

This would make it fine for a second visit, except of course, there is the bathroom. I have to mention this because it might be the only trans-gender friendly  bathroom in Bako (I don't know this for certain, but it's worth mentioning). The bathroom has separate stall areas for men and women, but the sink area is unisex. So, don't be surprised ladies if you walk in and see 5 guys at the sink checking their hair - seriously. That happened to me last night.

I will say this - the Padre is not a hipster bar. It is not the kind of place you go if you want a super stiff drink and to look at art (at least not the first floor - but I fully intend to check out the roof next visit). It is however full of great people watching and reasonably fun ambiance/dancing. Plus, the bathroom is weird enough in concept that you need to check it out, if only for the "oh shit" factor. I liked the decor, and I enjoyed myself. I will definitely check it out again. And, if you're in Bako and you have an L.A. sensibility, it is *definitely* the place to be. And that is whether you wear white leather shoes, plaid shirts, shorts, or not. Everyone is there.

Get a Job? Stop Being So Self Righteously Retarded

Somebody told me recently to get a job. What an asshole.

Here is why anyone who says something like that is a jerk and needs to take their judgemental bull and have it rubbed roughly in their face.

It is true that some people aren't really trying to work, but they are few and far between. Let me explain just how few and far between they are! One of my sister-in-law's friends owns a pizza shop. She put up an ad for a busser or something equally skilled - she got over 400 applications. Right. 400. Applications. For. A. Busser???

I am a skilled person. In the Bay Area I got a total of three interviews during the 9 mos I lived there. Since being in Bakersfield, I've gotten 3 so far (what a change - only 2 mos!). One of the jobs here I was offered. It pays a measily 10$ an hour, which for California is just north of minimum wage. I took it because I need the money, despite the fact that it doesn't speak to my skill set, nor does it pay me what I'm worth. It's a bad fit personality wise too, but again, I need the money.

So lucky for me, I was in a place with awesome skills, that I could get a job that was beneath me. That's something I can feel good about, because it isn't sucking my soul out daily or degrading to my personhood and keeping me from doing what I really want to do.

But I'm a lucky one. I keep telling myself that. I'm lucky to have this situation, right? It's a good deal...

There are people out in the world in a 1000 times a 1000 worse situations. There are people who are underemployed with no second income. There are people who can't get even a crappy job at a fast food joint. I don't know how they keep going, but they do. They are amazing to me, determined and beautiful as they trudge through the muck life has given them. I don't have the grace for that. I'm not strong enough. I'm kind of wussy that way, I'll be the first to admit it. But just because I don't have the absolute worst dalit conditions doesn't mean I can't appreciate how ridiculous it is for someone to tell me to "walk it off," so to speak.

So, if you're one of those people struggling and someone has the gall to tell you to suck it up and get a job, or grin and bear it, do me a huge favor. Punch that asshole in the nose and explain to them in no uncertain terms, they have no idea what the shit on the ground is like when they're looking down from their high horse.

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Inside Out - Identity, Culture, and Books in Bako

You can be an outsider and welcomed in. They're not mutually exclusive things. Often I feel like that, actually, more often I just feel outside.

But not in Bakersfield.

Honestly, I am a strange bird in Bakersfield. I'm a progressive Christian who drinks wine, rides on the back of motorcycles, paints, listens to hiphop AND folk music, and writes genre fiction. Even though my clothes are all a few years old, they're generally good quality stuff. You can't find organic cotton khakis everywhere...

It's no wonder the land of oil fields, Buck Owens, stetsons, and orange groves would be a little thrown by my preferences.

Regardless of how people think of me, they have been incredibly gracious and welcoming. Even though I am clearly a little weird, I have never felt like I wasn't wanted. It is a nice change from other places where I have lived, and I appreciate it every day.

This experience I am having in Bakersfield, I know, without a doubt, is playing out for Khloe in LOVERS AND RIVALS. I hadn't thought about it until today when I knew, despite differences in culture, I was still welcome. It is something that any outsider can appreciate. How do you deal with being in and out simultaneously? How do others? I lucked out a bit more than my main character, which was frankly unexpected. I am, however, so glad I was wrong.

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Rubbed Raw - Hoping For Better

Worn. One word to describe my present state would be worn. Another would be raw.

Yesterday was spent driving from Phoenix to Bakersfield. Of course, things were fine, except half-way from Santa Barbara to Bakersfield we realized Christian had left his helmet in SB. When we got home, my new magazine had been coated in cleaning solution making it barely legible. That doesn't include the bills piled up waiting to be paid with our low bank account. This morning I'm supposed to start a low paying job that doesn't require any skills. This, after waking up ridiculously early because my husband's cell alarm went off at 4 am.

I think there are a few people who can identify with this situation. I would rather go home and go back to sleep. Just to sleep until I was rested would be amazing. I have a sneaking suspicion the training for this job is going to be snore inducing. After that, the job itself may also feel like a waste of time to me. Yes, it's a job. And yes, I need the money. That's why I'm doing it at all, BUT if I could get away without having to do this, I would.

So it is with a heavy heart that I sacrifice writing time, sleep, and my spiritual health for a very little bit of money. Yeah. When I put it that way it sounds like a horrible idea.

Except, I do need to eat, get places, and have air conditioning in a hot place. For those more basic needs, I have to give up more complicated ones. Having worked jobs I liked that allowed me to do things, this is a tough sell.

So help a starving artist out, buy my book. Buy a painting even. Send someone my way who wants some art lessons. I'd love to be able to do something that brought joy to people's days on a regular basis.

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Scamming Scammers - How dumb can they be?

I've done a lot of tutoring and private lessons for a little extra cash here and there. One of the places I typically advertise is Craigslist. Unfortunately, Bako doesn't seem to follow the Craigslist rules. People don't seem to use it very much which is more than a little annoying because it's one of the best free classifieds out there.

It used to be that scammers would post things on Craigslist, and it would be few and far between (well, at least that had been my experience up until Bakersfield). Now, when I post something for tutoring or private lessons, I get the most bizarre inquiries.

See below:
** CRAIGSLIST ADVISORY --- AVOID SCAMS BY DEALING LOCALLY
** Avoid:  wiring money, cross-border deals, work-at-home
** Beware: cashier checks, money orders, escrow, shipping
** More Info:  http://www.craigslist.org/about/scams.html

--
Hello how are you doing? I just want to know if the tutor lesson still
available for my son  for a month he is 14 years old, I want you to
calculate the cost of 1 hour  per day for three days in week for the
whole a Month and email me the total cost..Hope to read back from you
asap..Thanks

Now, my cost per hour was in my posting. So an idiot can use a calculator to figure out how much three sessions would be in a week and then multiply that by the number of weeks, right? Right.

Second question, why the hell is someone going to be in Bakersfield for a month after school has already started? Why would three hours tutoring be enough to be helpful for this kid?

All the email responses I've gotten from this particular posting have been the same. I have a 15 yr old kid who is going on vacation (VACATION TO BAKO FROM EUROPE... that makes sense...) and I want 3 hours tutoring for 4 weeks. Then they want all your information and they send you a check. You're supposed to take some of the money out and then send the rest to the mysterious nanny, who almost always lives in China or Mississippi.

Apparently these people don't get it either when I call them on their shit. I've told several of these people, "You know, I can deposit the check you send me, but I'm going to wait for it to clear the bank because scammers use Western Union immediately." I've also said this one, "If you're so wealthy, why are you having me send the money? Why not just send it yourself? That seems like it would work much better."

And yet these idiots keep on trying to scam me. The sad thing is, I think some people actually fall for this and get conned out of thousands of dollars.

Here's my proposal. Let's scam the scammers. Have them Fedex you a check, and then, never send the money. This way, they end up losing money on their scams and will have to stop. If you figure they're spending at least $5 on each thing, or up to $20 for something overnighted, it's going to become very unprofitable very quickly.

Back from Vacation - A Writer Stressing Over Money

Every day that I have been looking for jobs I've applied to between 4 and 5 of them. I've sifted through pages and pages of advertisements looking for something that would be at least moderately interesting and would help with the rent. And I'm freaking out.

Part of the reason I'm freaking out is because we have yet to rent out the house in Phoenix. That has been a long and annoying road on which many service people have dragged their feet every step of the way. It's a stressful thing, and expensive for us while it isn't rented. I am hoping this is the month. So I cross my fingers while I try and look for a job.

In the mean time, I'm trying to keep a calm enough mind to write. What many writers don't talk about is that time when you're barely able to pay your bills and how the impacts your writing. Let me make it plain for you - it sucks major balls.

When you worry about money, for anyone who ever has, it impacts every aspect of your life. You worry about how you will pay for your electricity. You worry how you will pay for gas. You worry about how you will eat. Then if you can buy food, you worry what you will be able to eat. This last one is especially concerning for me being on P90x because healthy food tends to be more expensive (let's not even touch the subject of whey protein powder costs).

But being poor makes it difficult to be creative. At least, for me. The energy it takes to try and address the money problem is so great, that I find it difficult to put my creative juices to writing when I feel obligated to put it towards my finances.  I don't even feel like I can use my creative energies to promote my book, and I really NEED to do that if I want it to go anywhere. You see the issue.

I am no stranger to pinching pennies, and I know this time is supposed to be coming to a close. This is a temporary situation. All I need is someone to rent the house in Phoenix OR get a job and already I would have a little more space to relax and focus on the other half of this equation. The problem is I feel like I've been living in this "temporary" situation for a long time, and I want it to be over. Ironically, the most financially stable I've ever been was when we lived in Phoenix, and that was when I was unhappiest.

May Bakersfield be a place where I am financially stable and happy. This is my solemn wish. Send good thoughts people - I really need to write!

Camping for an Urbanite - Adventures in Camping Part 1

My husband is an outdoors sort of guy. He's not a lumberjack and he wouldn't live in a hermitage in the Yukon, but he likes doing things outside.  I like hiking. I like boats. I even like digging in the dirt when there's a garden to be maintained. I have never, however, gone real camping.

On the East Coast camping usually means you're going to a cabin retreat on a lake somewhere. Your friend has a little log place with all the regular amenities, and you visit on the weekend. Sometimes it means RVs - but I didn't know anyone with that kind of monstrosity. I can't imagine trying to manage such a thing in the weather...

My husband grew up with camping. Yes, his parents did (and do) own a large (by my estimation, which isn't well informed at all) camper. It has all the amenities a sizable camper could have, including a kitchen, shower, and toilet. Despite this, Christian would often have his own tent when his family camped. My husband has slept outside in a boat while his family slept in their camper. He's slept on the sand. He's slept on grass, building roofs, and dirt. I, on the other hand, have slept on mattresses.

It is true I have on occasion slept in the forest under the stars and sprays of green leaves, but I did it rarely and relished going back to a real bed and shower. I have slept on camping pads on church floors in developing countries and eaten meats that come from parts I don't want to discuss or imagine. But, I have always done this as part of some kind of missionary or existential life experience. I have never gone camping just to, well, camp.

This coming Monday is our three year anniversary. Because we're living on bare bones at the moment, our options for celebrating this year were limited. We could have gone to the movie theater and out to a single half way decent meal. Instead, we're going to Lake Isabella for two nights to sleep in a tent. The days are hot there, and the nights are cool. One of the nights will be at a location that is completely undeveloped. The other will be at a full amenity camp site. Christian is super excited and was bouncing off the walls last night as we planned our camping menu (which trust me, ours is not very exciting because we don't have a reasonable cooler), and packed our gear.

I, on the other hand, am most concerned about the fact that I won't be able to work on my book for an entire weekend and I may not get any sleep. I am trying to keep an open mind for his sake. I want it to be successful and I hope that we both enjoy our time there - but I am purposefully keeping my expectations low so I won't be disappointed. Christian can tell I'm a little wary of the experience and I think he has purposefully made it a little less grueling on my behalf, which I appreciation. Still, it will be an adventure one way or another, and I will definitely document the whole messy thing. Wish me luck!

BMW v. Harley - Divergent Biker Cultures

There are some things Americans aren't as good at. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. It's okay to fess up and admit them.

I know that some people like Harley Davidson. In fact, it's a bit like the following Mac computers has - their fans are religious. And of course, I'm a heretic when it comes to both brands, because I hate them. I hate Harleys. They're loud, obnoxious, covered in chrome and just scream "American" to me, in the worst possible way.

Don't get me wrong, they're powerful bikes. They have a legacy, and people congregate around them. Those things are good and cool and fine - for someone else. But, as my husband tells me, the things about the bike that are so flashy and obnoxious to me, are completely superfluous to how the bike runs. He also likes to make jokes about their engineering... but I don't know anything about that. I just know what he doesn't joke about - BMWs.

BMWs are everything that Harleys are not. They aren't flashy. They don't have anything on the bike without purpose - everything about how the bike is designed is deliberate from the handle bars and seat to the last tiny bolt. Half of their models can be used both on and off-road. The modifications available for the bikes are about increasing their comfort and utilitarianism, not their appearance. And of course, they're German. They embody German engineering in a two-wheeled vehicle. And I like and respect them a lot - and I mean a lot.

As you would expect the owners of each set of bikes are very different. The culture surrounding the bikes is different because they do different things. Last night I got a chance to sit in on a BMW owners meeting. The attendees were relaxed, generally middle aged and older. They wore comfortable clothing, but there were a few button shirts in the group. There were a lot of pairs of trail-sandals and Tevas in the room. Their conversations were about camping, sailing, kayaking, and off-roading on their GS models. But they also weren't shy about owning other brands of vehicles. You got the feeling they would be comfortable in just about any place or situation. There was no peacocking - just love for the outdoors and riding. It felt like a good safe space.

This is in direct contradiction to the Harley owners meetings I've been to - there everyone was talking at once, and loudly (with such loud pipes, you lose your hearing early), and of course there is always excessive amounts of black leather. Often times it feels like Harley riders are awkward, or wouldn't be comfortable in say, an art gallery or seeing a string quartet. They tend towards tattoo parlors, country concerts, and bars. And of course, mentioning owning another brand of bike is some kind of sacrilege - if you do mention it, you should do so in an apologetic tone unless its something Harley doesn't make. Then it's okay - like an ATV or something.

These differences are interesting because despite what most people think, Harleys and BMWs are in the same price range. Frankly, they're both expensive. The poor kids on the block are more likely to own a Suzuki or a Honda than either a Harley or a BMW motorcycle. That being said, the culture of the people is radically different because the bikes are radically different. So despite the fact that each group has to have the income to support their motorcycle habit, money doesn't necessarily imply preference or culture.

I strongly doubt my husband would ever purchase a Harley. He would much rather have that elegant German engineering that he can use in most situations with every part present for a purpose. And after sitting in on a BMW owners meeting, he fits there more than he does with any motorcycle group I've ever seen. And that's saying something, because he's a rare breed. But then again, so are BMW riders.

Zingo's Cafe - A Bako Diner

Our new friend at People's Pizza suggested Zingo's as a place for late night diner fare. Seeing as we needed lunch after moving a trailer full of furniture, it seemed daylight was as good a time as any to check out the place.

Zingo's is about a block away from Christian's new work on Buck Owens Boulevard. That should give you an idea of what to expect right away.  It is all old-school classic car loving trucker serving diner. Inside the black, red, and white decor takes you back to another time. Seating yourself in black vinyl 50s style booths, a waitress with a Southern twang brings you water and asks what you'd like to drink. The menu is simple, greasy, and classic.  While you might want to steer clear of any vegetables on the menu, their fried and grilled items are perfect after a night of partying or a morning of moving couches. The service is prompt and sweet like you'd expect from a diner in a place like Bakersfield.

All in all, it's worth checking out, especially if you enjoy the classic Americana of a good old-fashioned greasy spoon.

People's Pizza - Bako Surprises & Adventures

Bakersfield is the last place in the world I expected to get anything remotely like good pizza. But of course, it has, yet again, surprised me. Don't get me wrong, it's hard to compare to New York style when you're outside the Northeast, BUT, this was pretty good in its own right.

The only reason we went to People's Pizza is because our property manager's significant other owns the place.  We never would have heard of it because it isn't listed on Google and we're new in town. Still, we like to support locally owned and operated businesses, and if we're getting crappy pizza, its better to get it from the guy who lives down the street as opposed to Domino's or Pizza Hut. Well, for whatever reason, our Google Foo was off even with the address, and we ended up going to Lamont before heading to the restaurant.

For those of you who have never visited Bakersfield, it is a farming community and therefore has everything that goes with it, most importantly, workers.  Lamont is the predominantly Mexican community southeast of Bako that makes you feel like you're in Mexico (or in my case, India), with the exception of the occasional pimped out Lincoln Navigator (what?!). In any case, it has a road called the "Weedpatch Highway." This is how urban we're talking people. Urban. Needless to say, eventually we discovered we had gone probably 20 miles out of our way, but we did finally determine that no, there is in fact no People's Pizza listed on Google, nor does AT&T rock at Google Foo (T-Mobile forever!).

Well, we finally found People's Pizza. The owner, Nate, comes out, chats with us, and gets us set up with a California style pizza (East Coast peeps, wait for it!). California style has more dough, less grease, and more sauce.  The edge is flat as opposed to the large round bubbly crust of the New York style. Well, People's didn't disappoint.  Their sauce, made with fresh ingredients was delicious, with heavy notes of garlic, oregano, and Parmesan.  I was reminded of my mother's homemade sauce and meatballs. As my chef friend says, when food reminds you of home cooking, it is successful.

Now, Christian and our chef friend Andy scarfed the Cali style down.  So the owner, Nate, knowing I'm from New York and Andy is a chef, decides to make us a New York style.  He admits he doesn't have the space currently to hand toss but would love to do so (that's what makes New York edges bubble so beautifully).  Despite the lack of bubbling crust, People's is able to make a thin crust in the center of their pie that you have to eat with two hands.  They allowed a larger amount of grease (correct for New York style). I would have used a simpler sauce for the New York style than the Californian, but it was still delicious.

So did I find New York pizza in Bakersfield? No. Would I go back to People's even though it's 11 miles away in a town where I could find plenty of restaurants closer? Absolutely. With amazing ingredients, a neighborhood atmosphere, and great service, this place is worth the trek to get there.  I'll take my dad there, and my dad is a pizza snob, so you know it's good.