This post is a few days late, but last Tuesday's adventure to The Starry Plough for open-mic night was...well...delightful? That's probably not the best word to describe it...

I had been to the Plough once before, back in November or so, to play at the open-stage. I had a fabulous experience (I was given an extra song and the host said, "man, that girl can sing!") and wanted to go back again. Given the fact that I didn't have to work at Peet's the next morning, as had become standard, I gathered up my friends Claire, Carrie, and Jen, and headed to the Plough.

Guitar in hand, Carrie and I arrived at 7 pm to grab some food and make sure I was there in time to sign up for a relatively early spot. We were there plenty early, alright, but apparently I don't know the secret code for when to stand up and form a line. Before I knew it, I was being pushed around and had atleast 5 people cut in front of me to sign up. When I finally made my way up to the sign-up sheet, the next available space was #11 and that, folks, is mighty late for an old lady like me. The good news is that it forced me to sit and listen to Jerry. Ohh Jerry. . .

I have only met one other person in my life who may have been as crude as Jerry. But atleast Dan isn't crude in this same sort of "my goal in life is to make people vomit when the listen to my song lyrics" type of way that Jerry seems to embrace. The man stands tall and proudly when he sings. He looks like your dad, sorta. He looks like he's a really nice man--which, don't get me wrong, he very well could be. But I suppose that in order to surprise people, you've got to create some sort of illusion, right? His first song was fine. I didn't catch the lyrics, except for the fact that the person he was singing about had a really long name. Whatever, who cares. The second song, though. God, is it even ok to post the lyrics to his song?

The first verse set the scene. He has obviously been hurt by a lot of women and is going to take out his frustrations, not on the women who have done him wrong, but...dear God...but by taking it out on their grandmas! The chorus was simply, "Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm gonna get your grandma!" There was mention of waiting until the orderly leaves, turning out the lights, and making grandma his bitch (complete with a pause in guitar strumming so that he could grab his own 50 year-old crotch). As if that wasn't enough to have every audience member's jaw drop to the floor, imagine the look on their faces when Jerry mentioned that he was going to put his hand down grandma's depends and that seeing her dentures on the night stand reminded him that "no teeth would work out nicely." (Although, to be fair, I'm sure he didn't use proper English in that sentence and said "work out nice" instead. I just can't bring myself to write it out that way.)

Are you thoroughly disgusted yet?

Claire has more highlights on her page and I highly suggest checking those out. My performance was mediocre, at best, but that's ok...it'll just help me to surprise people even more if I choose to return in a few months.

My friend Claire and I had quite the adventure on Saturday afternoon. We made plans to go see the International Arts and Crafts exhibit at the deYoung in San Francisco, thinking that it would be a quiet afternoon of looking at old furniture and craftsman style artsy fartsy stuff. Thankfully, when Claire and I make plans, they rarely turn out as planned.

We started the afternoon with a bit of an errand to run--my rent was due and I had been put in charge of making sure it got to the post drop while Carrie was out of town, so that we could avoid being evicted. After scouring the west side of Shattuck Ave and deciding that postal workers everywhere are encouraging homelessness by not putting any post drops on that particular side of the street, I was finally able to drop my rent check 2 blocks from the freeway entrace. Yeah, homelessness avoided and we were on our way!

The exhibit we went to see was nice, but the real fun set in when we found ourselves in the oceanic exibit (or something like that), where we quickly turned into 5 year-old giggling school girls laughing at the masks and attempting to make the same expressions. Watch out deYoung, I think we might be back to take more photos, just so we can create captions like "Miranda on a bad hair day!" or "Claire with her favorite boyfriend." Oh wait, we have that one...

We left the museum with smirks galore and probably a few pissed off people who would have enjoyed the exibit much more if those annoying 20-somethings hadn't gotten in the way.

Nothing would top the day off more than a walk and drive through Golden Gate Park. I was told that there were buffalo in the park somewhere and with a bit of luck, we found them. I jumped out of the car to take a quick photo....then realized that I've seen buffalo plenty of times while living in South Dakota. I guess it's just so much more of a shock to see buffalo roaming in San Francisco. Thank you, whoever though of that. You've truly made my life complete...

After leaving the park, we encountered the world's worst cab driver. The guy crossed traffic, blocked traffic, attempted to cut in front of us when he figured out that he couldn't go anywhere (way to go Claire for not letting him in!), sped up to us, honked his horn, and flipped us off. Wha???? Jackass. That's all I have to say about you. If you see this cab number on the back of a cab in the City (yeah, like that's actually possible), please, cut him off and flip him the finger.

Our day would not have been complete without an "It's-It," a San Francisco delight and a first for both Claire and myself. Rarely found in places other than dirty corner stores, an It's-It is an ice cream sandwich dipped in chocolate! Mmmm...ice cream.

The only thing left to say is this: To make a quiet day a phenomenal, random, and anything but boring day, give us a call. We embrace the awkward and intensify the mediocre days.

Get this: Yesterday, during a pretty chaotic "Youth Speaks" class with the darling middle schoolers, 2 of my 14 year-old students were being pretty secretive about something. When I walked, over, I discovered that one of the students had brought a sandwich-size bag of condoms and was passing them to the other student. Normally, I wouldn't mind it, knowing full well that these "darling" students of mine are having sex on a regular basis. This time, however, they were creating quite a distraction and being really loud and downright dirty about the situation. So, when I told them to put the condoms away because they were aiding in the disruption of the already chaotic classroom, student one turned to me and said, "What's the matter, Miranda? You don't want 'em? I bet you like it raw, huh..."

I used every ounce of self-control that I had left in me NOT to laugh hysterically when he said it. After immediately separating him from the classroom to talk to him about the inappropriateness of his choice of words to an adult (and letting him know that if he needed to talk to someone out sex, I would find someone for him to talk to about sex--go me!) I left the classroom and busted out in laughter. I'm still laughing about it, as a matter of fact.

Ohhhh, these kids are nearly too much to handle sometimes!

"I'm okay with being unimpressive. I sleep better." Mark in Garden State.

Thanks to those of you who have taken interest in my GRE test taking skills. Let's just say that it went better than I expected it to. You are so kind to ask....

There, I feel better.

I have no qualms about it; sometimes, I am a jackass. I forgot an entire load of laundry at my favorite "mat" last night (the Bing Wong, in case you were wondering, and I know you were). When I went back to retrieve it, nearly 24 hours later, every item of clothing was still in the dryer. God, I love the people of Berkeley.

The unfortunate thing about the entire situation is that it was during this visit to the Bing Wong that I saw the following sign for the first time. I'm not sure what the people of Berkeley will do now that they can't roll joints in the Bing Wong!