What's so special about Santa Barbara?

This post is part of the #OpenBook Blog Hop where readers get the chance to learn a little more about authors. This week's theme is what is special about where you live. Enjoy!

A Santa Barbara sunset #nofilter

I live in a magical place. Mythical. Wondrous. Exceptional. These are all words that describe Santa Barbara County (and it is why I reference it in the Khloe Alwell series). I couldn't pick just one thing that makes Santa Barbara County unique or special, so I made a list:

1. Santa Barbara is one place in the world where the coastline runs from east to west. The mountains are to the north, while the ocean is to the south. This means both sunsets and sunrises are over water.
2. You know you're in Santa Barbara because of the flowers. Even amid the worst drought ever, flowers continue to blossom. Not just Yucca or mustard, but ice plant, trumpet flowers, jasmine, poppies, and bougainvillea are common sights.
3. Celebrities are common citizens. As in, everyone who lives in SB County has a "celebrity story." Maybe Jeff Bridges served you soup at a charity event, or you got a shot poured by Michael Jordan on State Street. Maybe Kenny Loggins sang the national anthem at your kid's little league game.
4. To be perfectly politically incorrect and blunt, an SB 10 is like a 20 on everyone else's scale. Hanging out with an SB 7 is like hanging out with a Phoenix 10+. As a rule the scenery is, ahem, spectacular.
5. I can walk to several wine-tasting rooms from my house. And they are all drinkable, with several that are exceptional. There are hundreds of wine-tasting rooms in SB County. If you like old-world high-tannin style, you can get that. If you like new-world fruit-forward, that is here in abundance. And just like they say in Sideways, the pinots are, well, get some pinot!
6. Cowboys, hippies, and Hollywood types all live in peace here, and often attend the same events. Somehow. Miraculously.
7. Produce here is amazing. Despite the drought. Organic fruit and veggies fresh from the farm down the road are available at different farmers' markets throughout the county. My personal favs are all the berries, white peaches, and avocados.
8. Even though pretty much everything here is more expensive (it is one of the top real estate markets in the country), you can still get delicious $1.00 tacos every Tuesday at most neighborhood Mexican restaurants.
9. The courthouse is worth sitting in with a latte. Seriously. It is beautiful, complete with sunken gardens, Spanish tiles, and spectacular murals.
10. The mission is gorgeous, no matter how you feel about the Catholic church - you have to give it to them. They know decor. Santa Barbara's is called the "Queen of the Missions" for a reason.

Have you had a Santa Barbara experience? Something you would add to the list? Leave a comment below!

Also, if you want a good beach read involving romance and motorcycles (of course!) check out P.J. Fiala's book Dog Days of Summer!
  

Bootstrappers, A La Carts, and Whole Hogs

I hate the word "independent" because I feel like it's false advertising. Writers should come with labels just like vegetarians:

I'm a pesca-ova-lactarian.
I eat cheese, and chicken, but no beef.
I'm a cheese and veggie kind of girl.
No, I don't even eat honey.

Now, to be honest, I think anyone who eats any kind of animal flesh cannot call themselves vegetarian. When it comes to animal products, I think there are really three categories of food consumers: vegans (purists), vegetarians (digestively challenged?), and everyone else (see-foodists).

That's kind of how I feel about writing, but maybe there's a few additional categories.

There's the traditional writers (whole hogs), or those who went with publishers (big 6 or otherwise). Then there are the hybrid writers, which are kind of like those pesca-ova-lacta-poultry-bullshit vegetarians - trying to reap the rewards of both labels (many of them doing an excellent job, it should be noted!).

Then of course, there are the a la carts. These are people who pay someone else to do various writing services. Now, I'm not saying it isn't a good idea to involve other people, or that we don't need help...but...call a spade a spade. A. LA. CART.

And finally, there's the bootstrappers. The purists. The people who are so committed to the idea of indie, it's embarrassing. I have pictures of these people in my head - you know, that crazy straight-edge punk in your freshman dorm who wrote "straight-edge" in his own blood and then listened to the Misfits all day? Yeah. Those people. Totally bonkers. I mean, why - why - would anyone in their right mind choose to go completely DIY?!

Ahem.

*waves frantically with both hands while jumping up and down and grinning maniacally*

HIIiiiiii! That'd be me.

I'm a bootstrapper. I hate when someone who is only sort of independent claims this word. It's my word. It belongs to people like me. I'm the epitome of independent. I do everything myself. I'm responsible for my complete success or failure. I'm responsible for the flowery words, the typos, the turns of phrase, and the paragraph going off on someone's delicious sandwich (food centered today apparently). Me. Only me. I'm the American myth - the American legend. I am the American dream. I'm completely, beautifully, gloriously independent. Those other guys are posers! Pretenders! They say you need to have an editor. You need to go to conferences. You need to have a cover designer. But that's bullshit. I don't need these things. I can do it myself.

Be precise with your language people! I mean, we're frickin' writers here!

I imagine this is what being vegan must feel like.

Sort of.

Except, the thing is, help is nice. I don't actually begrudge people for paying for services. I just hate feeling like everyone has a sugardaddy footing their service bill. I mean, those conference tickets are expensive. Hundreds of dollars could pay my monthly loan payment (one of them anyway). As my starving artist indie self, I really can't purchase entry to a writer's conference. I can't justify spending hundreds of dollars on editing services when I need to buy clothes for my baby and tools so my husband can do his job.

I'm not in the same league as these other "indie" authors. We're not in the same league because we have different levels of support. Living on one income, while being a stay at home mom, and writing...it's not easy. Granted, I was forced to develop a bunch of skills. I was forced to research things on my own. I was forced to do things that if I'd been in a comfy big 6 situation, I would never have done. You know, like figuring out how to make beet burgers, kale chips, or baking with agave nectar.

There's a reason why bootstrappers are so tough. It might take us a while to get where we're aiming, but we'll get there. We stumble and we trip, and we take detours. But we do our own course correction. We figure it out on our own. I mean seriously, how much more American can you get.

Detox Life and Reach Goals

Since I started adhering to a writing plan that involves daily and weekly goals, I'm back on track in other aspects of my life. In fact, I would say that I'm in the process of cleaning house.

How, do you ask?

Well, at first it was journaling. I was going through a real dark time, mentally, physically, and emotionally. Journaling helped me to release a lot of things going through my mind which freed me to work on other things (read: writing).

Then I added yoga. I'm not one of those people who is into mixing spiritual disciplines so I was a little hesitant to do this before now. The reason I finally came around and decided to add it to my daily routine is because it can be a kind of meditation. Meditation is good for the body, mind, and spirit. It releases tension can help the body rid itself of toxins etc. It's just a good idea all the way around.

So I hopped onto the Hindu bandwagon for some yoga (just yoga...no pantheon or holy thread or anything). It's been a real blessing and incredibly nourishing to me on every level. I also think I get to sleep faster because of it (probably because of how relaxing it is - this has nothing to do with my new mom sleep deprivation...I swear!).

Then I started adding daily workouts on top of these things. This is something I've really just begun doing this week with any consistency. I had been doing some casual circuit training using my baby as resistance, but that was very sporadic at best (and who knows how effective it was being at achieving my fitness goals other than building muscle). This week I added some kickboxing circuit training videos and next week I plan to up the ante with some other circuit training and HIIT videos. These are ideal for me because they're short but effective, which means I can do them without leaving my baby playing in his play area for too long. The only problem with them is I kind of want them to be longer...or more intense feeling (I sense I'll be adding some low level weights to these puppies!).

I say this now, but talk to me in a week...

My next step is to implement better eating choices...

And then who knows? More active promotion? Actively socializing (sensing a trend here?)?

Needless to say I'm doing these things while I'm reaching my writing goals every day, and I'm taking care of my little man. I know that as I move through this time, every aspect of my life is getting cleaner and the next step of everything is becoming clearer. It's a great feeling.

Sometimes you just need to do some spring cleaning of yourself.

The Pregnant Glucose Tolerance Test

This morning I got up ridiculously early to get my glucose tolerance test done. This is a test taken between 24 and 28 weeks in pregnancy to diagnose gestational diabetes, and as far as I can tell, every preggo lady gets it (well, some incarnation of it anyway).

The test itself involves fasting for at least 8 hours, then getting blood drawn (usually accompanied by a second vial at this point to do a complete blood count). Once this first vial is taken, you get to drink this cold orange flavored drink which tastes something between orange Pedialyte and flat orange soda. You have to drink it really quickly (within 5 minutes). Then when you finish downing the drink, you have to let them know. They note the time, and then in an hour they draw your blood again. At 2 hours they take a third vial.

At the end of this 2 hour ordeal you know whether or not you have gestational diabetes. Well, the test results get sent to your doctor's (or midwife's) office within 2 days. So technically, you don't find out immediately, but still - you know the same week whether or not you'll be sticking yourself regularly for the remainder of your 9 months.

Now, if you're sensitive to glucose, after you drink that sugary orange gross, you'll probably have some kind of reaction. A lot of people get some nausea and most people have a serious crash. Some people feel sick for the entire day after their test.

Needless to say, I was prepared for this. I was already worried about being hungry which is usually a disaster for me, so I wasn't sure how my body would handle the sugar. I know I've experienced sugar crashes before (eating something really sugary on a nearly empty stomach and then awhile later getting sleepy). That said, I couldn't remember a time I'd done this with a completely empty stomach. This was why I decided to do the test on a day off. I wanted Christian to drive me, but he would have needed to take some time off of work and now that the shop is in its busy season, that didn't really seem feasible. So I rallied my spirits and drove myself, preparing for the worst with a bottle of water, some beef jerky, and almonds to eat after the test.

Well, all my concern was for naught.

I didn't get nauseous. I didn't even feel faint when they took the blood (I hate getting my blood taken, so to go get it done by myself and not even get a little queasy was nothing short of miraculous). I didn't start to feel sleepy until about 15 minutes after my second blood draw. At the second blood draw, the tech asked me if I was feeling sleepy or sick, and when I said not yet, she smiled and told me that was a good sign. Apparently that indicates my body is producing enough insulin - which makes sense. People who are more sensitive to sugar and have a harder time balancing its effects would likely have more symptoms. But I didn't.

Then again, I didn't think I would really have any problems. Even though some of my extended family have diabetes, no one to my knowledge has had gestational diabetes. Plus I myself have never been much for sugar. I would choose meat, cheese, and vegetables over cake, candy, and cookies every time. I love savory food. If I could eat only dessert or dinner for the rest of my life (without any negative consequences) I would choose dinner.

Seriously. I would eat dinner for dessert after dinner. I get a little sad when my meat is gone from my plate (even before pregnancy - not joking).

Okay, yes I do like sugar sometimes. I'm not some weird Stepford wife, but I would be fine if I never had anything frosted ever again. It makes sense that my body hasn't had to work to keep my blood sugar in balance (thus creating insulin resistance) because I haven't ever overwhelmed it - not really.

Besides the fact that I am not a sugar fiend, I am a protein fiend (see above reference to getting sad about finishing my meat). Protein actually helps your body keep your blood sugar in check. I'm not arguing that everyone should overload on protein - that would be a bad idea too, BUT it's worth eating enough protein to balance out whatever else you're eating.

Last night, for example, my late night snack was almonds. I ate almonds for 2 reasons. First because my midwife told me they help with heartburn and I didn't want to eat anything later to deal with that (yay for heartburn prevention!). Secondly, almonds have protein in them and I didn't want to eat something sweet and screw up my numbers before my test. Did eating almonds instead of icecream help with my test this morning? Well, I'm not sure (I do still have to wait for confirmation that I won't be pricking my finger daily). Still I know it didn't hurt it.

Now I just need to wait. Hopefully by Friday I'll find out that I'm perfectly healthy with good sugar levels and good iron levels (Remember that fourth vial that was taken? Checking for anemia!). In the mean time, I'll try not to worry about it and enjoy my balanced dinners just like I always do.

Oakland Locally: Help Me Get Away From Big Business!

I hate big business.

I say this as I wear a shirt that was designed and manufactured for Target, typing on a lap top produced by Acer, on a website owned by Google.

Sigh.

And that's my point. We can try to get away from big business, but it is increasingly difficult. Some might even question why we should do such a thing. Let me suggest something to you, gentle reader. While some businesses have great labor practices and choose to employ people in the geographies they serve, this is not the norm. Some businesses may choose to be socially conscious by recycling, sourcing locally, and only building the best products that make the world a better place. This, again, is hardly the norm.

As I draw nearer to bringing a new life into this world, I can't help but consider the current state of the world. Sure, I see my work teaching art in East Oakland as a counter to all the pressures low income urban children face, but this is hard to measure. I do not know how much I impact these children's lives. I will never know. While I accepted that (and did so when I initially accepted the position) my contract is coming to an end. My attention begins to wander to other ways of making the world a better place, even to the point of examining the most mundane of daily choices.

This leads me to the question of local versus global. Some products are incredibly difficult (or downright impossible) to produce locally. I accept that. I understand the logistics involved for sourcing certain materials as well as infrastructure. That doesn't mean I can't try to support those businesses and products that ARE made and sourced locally.

I have a long way to go on this front. This is where I need your help gentle reader. Do you know Oakland locally sourced businesses? Locally manufactured products? Just locally owned? The more of these I can round up the better, but I'm only one woman and there are limits to my researching ability (I sleep and some times get distracted by other topics and interests...ahem.).

Leave your suggestions in the comments or mention me on Twitter (@alexisdonkin).

Thanks a ton! Your Earth thanks you too (probably my unborn kid would as well, we'll give the kid the benefit of the doubt).

Camping with a Snoogle

When we made the reservation for the campsite, I figured it would be early enough that it wouldn't be a problem. I wouldn't be intensely uncomfortable like I had in the first trimester and I wouldn't be waddling and huge (as I will in the third).

I forgot a few variables.

First is the issue of food. I snack frequently. If I don't, bad things happen. Sometimes I just get really snappy and mean. Other times I will break down crying. And of course, there's always the messiest option of immediate regurgitation if I was hungry enough. Yuck.

I'm not sure how I'll deal with not having meat and dairy on a near constant basis for a couple days. I hope peanut butter can be a reasonable substitute, but that remains to be seen. All I can say is Christian is a brave man.

The second issue is sleep. My joints have been achey for some time. When I sleep on my side (which is basically the safest way to sleep - or so they tell me) my hips get sore. They can get so uncomfortable it feels like someone actually stabbed me in the hip. So I turn over. Usually it's one at a time, but sometimes it's both. The only remedy is to sit up or walk around. Needless to say, my sleep is punctuated at best, and nonexistent at worst.

So I bought a Snoogle. Snoogles are a crazy patented shape body pillow that cost a stupid amount (unless you go to Burlington Coat Factory). They are also a gift from GOD. I say this because while nothing can completely eradicate the aching in my hips (though I haven't tried acupressure which sounds like a good idea), this crazy pillow comes pretty close.

Obviously I'm taking my Snoogle with me camping. While it will do nothing to mitigate the sorry sleeping mat under me, it will at least keep my joints aligned.

You see how all this could be a dangerous combination... I think Christian may be taking his life into his hands. And the guy is such a sweetie! And while many couples end up sleeping in separate rooms or having possessions destroyed by wrath during pregnancy, we've been remarkably blessed. I attribute this to Christian's easy-going attitude, our combined senses of humor, and my ability to recognize when I'm being ridiculous and apologizing.

I hope that will be enough this coming week. *gulp*

I'll let you know how it goes.

New Yorker in a Strange Land - The Case of the Cornmeal Crust

Seriously.

Cornmeal crust.  

That just happened at a place in Alameda - which shall remain nameless.

What is wrong with people?!

I am a pizza snob. I know this. I've been informed by many other people of this. It's so bad sometimes my husband is afraid to take me to pizza places because he knows we may never return. Thankfully I have slowly converted him to loving New York style.

Pizza is a deceptively simple thing to make. People think it's no big deal - cheese, sauce, dough, and toppings. What can go wrong? Well, everything dear Watson - absolutely everything.

If the cheese is poor quality, it won't melt correctly. If it's not mozzarella, it will taste strangely. Cheese should have a little grease form on the top. A good East Coast pizza will even have added olive oil to enhance the greasy goodness.

The sauce should have the right balance between herbs and spices and the tomato base. If there is too little, the pizza is dry. If there is too much, it begins to be California style or possibly a poor attempt at Chicago.

The dough, however, is a completely different story. Dough is an indication of geography, and certain preferences. If a pizza is to be a genuine New York style pizza, the pie should be large and dough should be hand tossed. This method is what makes the center of the pie incredibly thin while the crust is large and bubbly. If the yeast is right, the crust should be crunchy, while the inside melts in your mouth. The center should be so thin, it becomes necessary to fold your pizza twice in order to support the cheese, sauce, and any toppings. Literally, the center should come apart.

Anything less is not New York style pizza. People who claim something different is New York are either a) morons, b) delusional, or c) lying.

I am just about convinced that I need to start making pizza myself. I know if I decide to begin this adventure, it will be wrought with failed attempts. I will become frazzled, frustrated, and possibly fat from blobs of dough. I might even get dough stuck on my ceiling as I toss it. I don't know. It remains to be seen. If I do decide to embark on this venture, you will know it. I'll document every aspect. It's too good to pass up.

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.

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.

Chef as Artist - The Beauty in Cooking

I never knew chopping celery could be so beautiful, but it can.

Last night I had a real treat.  One of my friends is a professional chef and he decided to cook a group of us a meal.  Even though intellectually I could appreciate the work behind the act of making a meal - the sweating in a hot room, the preparation behind cooking for massive amounts of people, and designing a menu appropriate for a given restaurant - there was definitely something I had been missing.

I hadn't really been able to appreciate the artistry.

Cooking, like almost anything done well, is an art. In some ways, perhaps it is MORE of an art.  There is the chemistry of ingredients, the decision to follow or "tweak" a recipe, determining how long something should be over heat or not, and then of course, there's my favorite - plating presentation. 

A good chef will make all this look effortless and beautiful, leaving you stunned as to how he could mince garlic so uniformly, and how he got the gentle blanket of pepper to coat your tongue in each bite.  This is the difference between someone who cooks at home and someone who has spent years perfecting the art form.

Sometimes I really like cooking.  I enjoy making something beautiful, presenting it in an appetizing and interesting way, but most of all, I enjoy the reaction I get from someone eating my food who really enjoyed it.  I'm NOWHERE near my chef friend's prowess.  My chopping is clumsy, and my knife handling is not nearly as sure or as fast.  I make guesses at things where a chef would be certain.  Sometimes when my food is done, it may be a disaster.  There is no question - I have a lot to learn.

But it's nice to know how much cooking (and baking for that matter) is an art form.  It's nice to know that creativity there can be rewarded and beauty can be seen from start to finish.  It may not happen in my kitchen for a while, but at least it's happening in someone's kitchen.  Even if it is just the Four Seasons where my friend works.

Cleansed - Taking out Sugar and Caffeine

For those of us with the automatic drip feeding us a steady intake of caffeinated beverages, it seems heretical to wake up naturally.  But as evidenced by our adrenal glands, if its possible to wake up naturally we should.

As part of my "get healthy" plan, I have recently done something I never thought I would be able to do.  I stopped drinking any kind of caffeine.  Yes, occasionally I do eat a bit of chocolate.  But you know what? I don't really miss it.  The only thing I find myself craving is diet soda, but even then I think its more about the bubbles and the sweet flavor than it is the caffeine.

In an effort to be good all the way around, I decided to limit my sugar intake even more than I already had.  This means I've taken out a lot of simple carbs - though I am the first to admit I'm having a hard time replacing them with complex ones.  It also means I'm trying to take out foods that include a lot of added sugar and replacing them with fresh fruit.  I'm particularly enjoying the fresh strawberries available right now!

It's not an easy thing to make these dietary changes, but it's a lot less difficult than I imagined.  My body feels better in every way.  Something I notice when I eat bad or imbalanced meals is I literally feel sick.  Caffeine would screw up my sleep habits.  Now that I'm eating tons of veggies, fruits, and lean meats, I have more energy. Maybe that's because I'm able to sleep a full night without waking sometime around 2 am (which had been a long standing issue for me).  Since I'm not up on stimulants, I don't crash in the middle of the day like I used to and I love it.

You have to decide that you want to make these kinds of changes.  Switching your soda for Perrier isn't something that will appeal to everyone, but it makes kicking the bad habit a lot easier.  Eventually, the craving for sweet soda will pass. By that time, you'll already be more than half way to a new healthier you. I know I am!

All the Same - Pancakes are My Favorite Human Food

For Mother's Day breakfast my parents and I went to the Danish pancake spot in Buellton, Ellen's. Because I have a fondness for really thin pancakes, I couldn't resist getting their Danish pancakes with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. As you might expect, they were delicious.

The thing about pancakes is they aren't really cornered by any particular ethnicity or nationality. Every group seems to have some form of pancakes – Indians, the French, Germans, Hungarians, Mongolians, Moroccans, and the list continues. If there are people, they will make some kind of dough. If they make some kind of dough, they will make some kind of flat bread. At least one of those flat breads will be reserved for breakfast, and often it will be sweet.

This line of thinking led me to say after taking a particularly delicious bite, “Pancakes are my favorite human food!” My statement shocked me. Human food? I instantly thought someone eavesdropping might think I was crazy – scenes from the television series Roswell flashed through my mind. But the reality is, pancakes are human food. Humans all over the world eat them in many different incarnations. They are a well-loved human phenomenon.

Then I wondered, because I was already thinking about Roswell, if aliens came to Earth, they would definitely have some kind of pancakes assuming they were carbon-based. Would that be their favorite human food as well? Would they take back recipes from around the world for different pancakes? Or would they eat our pancakes and think of home because they too had created something so simple and so delicious on their own world?

People don't think about how similar we all are, but on Mother's Day this is more true than on other days. It is a day that reminds us how similar we are. Not only do we pop out the same way (with minimal variation), in the same general shape, in a limited color palette, but we are born with at least one bond that all humans share. Whether you can barely tolerate your mother, or have a best friend in her, no human comes into the world without this relationship. Even if your dad is MIA, or your mother decided to get pregnant without a man altogether (or maybe your mother decided to give you up for adoption to two dads) – you were grown in a womb for nine months, popped out, and will always have a connection to that woman no matter what.

So the next time you are with your mother, or eating pancakes, think about the things we all share around the world. It has so much more weight than our differences.

Beach in the Bay - Exploring Alameda

Did you know Alameda has a beach? Beach means there is sand and water, not just water.  Anywhere can have water.  Not everywhere has sand.  And this sand, more importantly, looks like it's the naturally created kind - not imported - by the work of the bay.

Friday was the perfect day to visit this little island city.  Not only was the sand and salty air absolutely glorious, but Alameda itself isn't half bad.  It has early 20th century architecture including the awesome Victorian paint jobs, as well as a smattering of stained glass panels every so few houses.  Add a determined group of locally owned shops representing all manner of products and services, and you have quite an interesting community.  I recommend taking a stroll down Park, the main drag, to get a little taste of what is available.

We decided to check out La Penca Azul, a Mexican restaurant within easy walking distance from our car that had gotten very good reviews. We were very glad we did!  We were lucky enough to be there during happy hour, which meant their huge appetizers were half off.  So a bill that normally would have been close to $40 was less than $20 including tip.  And honestly, we could have had a whole other meal with our leftovers, there was so much food.

Though we didn't drink, the place is renowned for their selection of tequilas which are proudly displayed along the wall of the restaurant.  I was happy with our gigundo appetizers, soda, and the excellent service we were provided from all the staff that came by our table.  The only downside was the awkward conversation taking place behind us at high volume - which wouldn't keep me from going back between 4 and 6 pm.

All in all, Alameda is worth an afternoon of wandering, food, and fun.  There are many other interesting shops and restaurants there that I would love to try out (but there just isn't enough time!).  Who knew? Sand, water, and an awesome island community right in our own backyard.

Dell Cafe - Locally Owned Businesses For the Win

One of the things I really like about the Bay Area is the number of locally owned businesses.  So many places have become over run by huge corporately owned chains or franchised places that effectively homogenize America - which is gross.

On Castro Valley Boulevard locally owned business after business lines the street. Yes, you do have a few flagships like large grocery chains and of course the requisite number of fast food joints.  Still there are a lot of wonderful stores, service providers, and restaurants that are worth checking out.  I'm thinking in particular of my new favorite breakfast/lunch location - the Dell Cafe.

On the outside Dell is nondescript, another tan building with a small parking lot that it shares with several neighboring businesses.  Inside however, Dell brings you back to another time.  A family owned business, Dell is where everyone working there is family and so are the loyal customers.  The menu is limited - simple - but good.  When you get an omelet with avocado, you get a plateful of omelet and hash-browns with a HUGE helping of avocado - for $6. It's comforting to sit in the burgundy booth stare at the large mural of Castro Valley in the 40s when the cafe originally opened.  Add the delicious and inexpensive food and the casual family atmosphere it's a great place for brunch.

It's places like the Dell Cafe that make you feel like something in the world is still the way it should be.  Those kinds of places are closing across the country, with the economy the way it has been, and the increase in chain restaurants.  People often times don't want to take a risk on something they don't know.  But with reviews easily accessible and map programs directing you to frequently searched locations, it's easier now to find the sweet local places.  I for one, want to live in places where there are more locally owned shops than not.  Its locally owned businesses that maintain community health and keep an economy going.  So go find your Dell Cafe

Dreaming of Homesteading - Long Range on the Range

Christian and I have been trying to determine what we will do long term.  For some time we've thought about having a subsistence farm of sorts where we could produce our own fruits, vegetables, electricity, and compost.  We became fascinated with self-sustainable housing - a kind of homesteading for the 21st century.

Christian lived in Ojai for the first 5 years of his life.  His family kept chickens and rabbits for food.  Of course, Christian also has a hunter's instinct as well.  He figured out how to spear fish as a child and feels very comfortable with a gun.  I on the other hand, feel better with plants (though I had a limited exposure to gardening as a child).  In order to be more self sufficient, we would need to have other lactating animals, such as goats, sheep, or other larger herding animals. 

Goats and sheep are easier than other animals, and certainly much less expensive than say lamas. Cattle are a typical choice for farmers, however they require a hands-on approach.  Bison, however, can be used completely and are less high maintenance.  Keep them in an environment that mirrors their natural habitat as much as possible, and they're fine.

Having a homestead is far from our current place in life.  Owning land that is ready to support a small farm and a family is not exactly in our immediate financial future.  Right now I'm still waiting to find out what is happening to us this summer, to our now unemployed renters in Phoenix, and all the other smaller issues contingent on those circumstances.  Still, a girl can dream, can't she? For now I'll settle for visualizing my homegrown Bison steaks on our grill.

Fisherman's Wharf - Adventures in San Francisco

After our organ recital experience we really needed to do something else, namely, Christian wanted to get doughnuts and coffee to combat the rainy day.  We searched for nearby coffee/doughnut shops and came up with a small franchised place called Latte Express  near Fisherman's Wharf.  After navigating several large hills and a few winding streets we found ourselves in the tourist monstrosity of Fisherman's Wharf.  I had been there once, as a tourist in 2004.  Needless to say, the place looked very different now in the rain around dusk. 

We found cheap parking for San Francisco and walked several blocks towards the little shop.  The streets were filled with vendors of trinkets and blaring signs. One Latin vendor smiled to a Chinese vendor and greeted him in Mandarin from under the overhang.  As expected, there were few tourists.  No one wanted to brave the evening rain that Sunday.  The few people we did see on the sidewalk were clearly associated with a hotel nearby.  The two or three young couples walking were tall and beautiful.  I immediately thought of Santa Barbara and wondered if I had found some strange locus that existed in the Bay.

We soon reached the shop, which was more of a convenience store than anything, the back wall completely covered by a set of drink refrigerators.  An overly friendly security guard talked up the shop (what he was guarding was not there, he must have been on his patrol).  The Asian woman behind the counter loudly and shrilly asked us what we would like.  I had been hoping for more of a cafe, and had wanted to pass it by, but because of the beckoning inside, Christian and I went in.  Plus, the doughnuts in the display looked good even if the coffee didn't.  I settled on a powder-sugar doughnut and Christian got an old-fashioned.  The sugar hadn't been brushed off very much from mine, and as I ate it went everywhere.  It cascaded onto the floor, my jacket, the table, and of course, exploded during each bite which caused it to go all over my face like a three year old might.  Christian laughed at me, to which I responded by rubbing my gums with my finger which only caused him to laugh more. I proceeded to remove the excess sugar from my face. Still, it tasted good and it was nice to have a coffee after being in the cold rain.

Feeling the urge to walk after we were sufficiently caffeinated, we went a block to the street right next to the water.  Of course here there were many more shops, bars, and restaurants, most of which were franchises.  We kept walking though until we could see the boats in the water, and finally came to Van Ness End, and then proceeded out the concrete pier.  A family was fishing, the kids running around and screaming at each other.  The pier was falling apart on one side which made us wonder what would happen if an earthquake occurred.  The old-fashioned lamps came on slowly as we walked out.  It started drizzling again.  But it was worth the walk to see the hill from the water.  The clouds half obscuring the city sitting just a little back from the water gave it a dream like appearance, and the buildings lit, were at once reflected both above and below, though to differing degrees.  Because the sun had clearly set, and the sign on the pier implied it would be locked soon, we decided to walk back.

On our walk back to our car, the streets had become covered in tourists, nearly all of them in rain gear and many inches shorter than me and that much more shorter than Christian.  I wondered why that was, the heights of people, and if it was an indicator of anything.  I thought again of Santa Barbara, land of people akin to trees they were so tall.  But this is San Francisco, which is homogenized in its diversity.  It's a place where Latin vendors speak in Mandarin to their neighboring Chinese vendors.  Yeah, this is more what I think of when I think urban America.

Life's Guilty Little Pleasures - Doughnuts

Christian is one of the few people on the planet blessed with one of the most coveted genes conscious or subconscious - good cholesterol. The man can eat the most disgusting crap and still has the cleanest blood the American Cross have ever seen at the donation center.

I, on the other hand, have heart disease on both sides of my family.  That a man can live longer than 35 years in my family is a testament to the ability of modern science.  I've been getting my blood tested for cholesterol levels since I was six.  Even though my cholesterol isn't north of six hundred (like some of my gifted relatives) it's certainly nowhere near Christian's low levels. As it stands, Christian craves high fat foods, whereas I crave vegetables and salmon. It's a rough series of compromises that gets our diet somewhere between those cravings. 

This morning, I gave in to his.  We walked a block to the nearest doughnut shop.  There are about 6 such shops within a 5 block radius.  When you go out farther the number jumps exponentially.  For some reason, doughnuts are back.  Maybe it's the fact that people have gotten over the deprivation diets and on to things like the "carb-lovers diet." So this morning we ate doughnuts - fried dough coated in a sugary glaze was never more delicious than when paired with French Roast.  My arteries and my belly may protest later, but my taste buds are thanking me now.  Yum!

JeJune, Gourmet Pizza, and Rain - Adventures in SF

Yesterday Christian and I went on the longest adventure we've had since living in the Bay Area.  We went to the JeJune Institute. In the interest of encouraging you to do the same, and not spoiling anything, I will only say this: wear comfortable shoes and be prepared to spend 2-3 hours walking.  I would not suggest doing what we did - which was wandering around in the cold rain for almost 2 hours.

After trudging around in the rain, we finished the JeJune experience, we called some friends and proceeded to deal with rush hour traffic in the city first to the Presidio to cuddle with a Russian Blue while one of our friends got ready.  Then we drove across the city to Potrero Hill to meet another couple.  Once there, we walked a few blocks to a snazzy pizza place.  I figured pizza would mean all the regular flavor combinations meant for pizza with the most exotic being Hawaiian.  No, I was sorely disappointed.  I should have known when our waiter came over sporting a thick French accent that regular New York style cheese was far from an option. So we settled for a 4 cheese pizza with pears and raisins.  Let me just say, first that Gorgonzola tastes like fertilizer to me, especially when combined with other cheeses.  Secondly, pizza should never be sweet.  The only fruit that belongs on pizza is tomato.  Luckily, good company will always make a meal, no matter what the food is actually like.

There is only one place in the world where you could get pears on pizza, have an experience like the JeJune Institute, and finish it off with some organic tea in a green apartment. Thank you San Fran for another wild ride!

Industry and Government - A Match Made in Hell

I am increasingly convinced that the government is not just the government.  It is a corporate government.  There is a marriage that has been happening for some time and I am not convinced that anyone has stood up and objected to it going forward.  Perhaps it is something to do with the recent degradation of corporate contributions to campaigns, or the general spinelessness that occurs when a person gets into office that makes them lean towards their sponsor's needs rather than their constituents.  I don't know. All I know is that as I watch it unfold, I feel the distinct need to do something about it and an overwhelming churning in my gut that has nothing to do with what I last ate.

Watching Food INC. makes me want to be a vegetarian who only purchases locally grown produce from farmer markets. Well, okay, maybe I would buy a carton of eggs or cheese or meat from a local farmer.  The truth is, I need meat, so I probably won't go veggie any time soon. 

How can I go to the super market? How can I purchase mass produced food? These huge companies have manipulated government regulatory organizations in order to make more money in food production than to do things that are healthy, earth friendly, and human friendly.  Apparently people can be sued for criticizing companies, publishing pictures of industrial food processes, and they sue even if the companies won't win just to make a point.

If you're someone like the founder of Stonyfield, then you don't beat them - you join them in an effort to change the system from inside.  But what about trying to beat the system? What about trying to protest? What happens when the avenues of organizing protest are closed off because of corporate censorship due to control over information?

I don't know about you but I want a cowboy in the office. I don't want a Texan, I mean I want a politician like the original cowboy president - the one, the only Teddy Roosevelt.  What a man he was! Taking on robber barons! Taking down the beef trust! Now that is some spine!  Where are the politicians like that? Who don't care about corporate interests but care first and foremost about the people they represent!  If you have one of those, you're one of the lucky few.  Still, that doesn't mean you should be silent. Tell them.  Beseech them to make this a healthier better country on behalf of all Americans. Tell them when they are doing a good job and remind them who they are meant to represent - the people.