Alfred Peet of the Peet's Coffee enterprise (that started in Berkeley, no less) has died at age 87.
Since he retired in 1983, I suppose his death doesn't really affect the welfare of the company. But somehow, the Big Box Corporation that Peet's has become seems more obvious without a nice man who opened a coffee shop in a liberal hippie town in the sixties.
Because with all that acid and free love, there's gotta be a niche market for caffeine just waiting to happen.
To be fair, I didn't really know that he was alive (or dead) in the first place, but at least now they can put a memorial plaque or something at Walnut & Vine Streets. It's not like the sidewalks need repaving or anything.
8.31.2007
8.29.2007
In case you haven't heard,
The massive expected holiday traffic will be just awful this Labor Day weekend.
But make sure that traffic doesn't go anywhere near the Bay Bridge, because historically (at least according to the Bay Bridge Project's website) it's been light traffic, anyway. And, you know, it'll be closed, since Caltrans is taking a giant chunk out of it.
I have not fallen off the face of the earth...
I've been here. Granted, I've been better at multitasking in the past, but my potential 22-unit course load is distracting me from what's obviously more important- entertaining my faithful readers.
Also, my camera has run out of batteries, and I've been meaning to post some lovely pictures to make me seem technologically impressive.
I'll be back soon; just getting my crap together.
Also, my camera has run out of batteries, and I've been meaning to post some lovely pictures to make me seem technologically impressive.
I'll be back soon; just getting my crap together.
8.23.2007
Selling myself, one page of advice at a time
I've been looking to make a few bucks on the side, because I'm really awful at finding well-paying hourly jobs. Since the cocaine biz seemed a little risky, and because I am too lazy to get my dream De-Cal organized (titled: "English as a First Language," co-taught by my roommate, and if anyone else takes that name I will be totally annoyed), I decided to use some of those English skills for some freelance editing.
So if you students have papers to edit while you still have Daddy's money, I'll be happy to procrastinate my own homework to proofread them. I'll be brutally honest if it sucks, but ask the 2005-06 Davidson 6th floor whether it worked out for them.
My terms:
-I'm not rewriting your papers. I'm telling you what you did wrong, grammatically and conceptually, and how to fix it.
-I will not guarantee that I've read whatever you're writing about or taken the same class, and I am not responsible for factually incorrect arguments; only how those arguments are presented.
-$2.50 per double-spaced (Times 12 or Arial 11 font) page for the first 3 pages (add $1.50 per page after that), which is approximately the cost of the latte I will be drinking while I read.
-Turnaround time varies, based on how immediately you need it back, how long the paper is (or needs to be), and what my schedule is like.
About me:
-3rd year Rhetoric student with extensive experience in writing and editing, academically and professionally. Most well-versed with MLA and AP, but I've had to use APA a few times, so that's becoming more familiar.
-Good GPA, scholarship recipient, and a featured blogger.
-You can find an unflattering picture of me on the Internet here, at my newest place of employment.
Contacting me:
My target clientele is fellow Berkeley students, and since most have Facebook, try this. No stalking!
So if you students have papers to edit while you still have Daddy's money, I'll be happy to procrastinate my own homework to proofread them. I'll be brutally honest if it sucks, but ask the 2005-06 Davidson 6th floor whether it worked out for them.
My terms:
-I'm not rewriting your papers. I'm telling you what you did wrong, grammatically and conceptually, and how to fix it.
-I will not guarantee that I've read whatever you're writing about or taken the same class, and I am not responsible for factually incorrect arguments; only how those arguments are presented.
-$2.50 per double-spaced (Times 12 or Arial 11 font) page for the first 3 pages (add $1.50 per page after that), which is approximately the cost of the latte I will be drinking while I read.
-Turnaround time varies, based on how immediately you need it back, how long the paper is (or needs to be), and what my schedule is like.
About me:
-3rd year Rhetoric student with extensive experience in writing and editing, academically and professionally. Most well-versed with MLA and AP, but I've had to use APA a few times, so that's becoming more familiar.
-Good GPA, scholarship recipient, and a featured blogger.
-You can find an unflattering picture of me on the Internet here, at my newest place of employment.
Contacting me:
My target clientele is fellow Berkeley students, and since most have Facebook, try this. No stalking!
It sucks to be you.
If you don't see Avenue Q, that is.
Aside from the old ladies passing around cookies during the second act, the show was hilarious. The guy at the box office told me the cheap seats on the side balcony were sold; maybe it's the 20/20 vision, but I could see just fine from the center balcony.
It was refreshing to see a small cast and a set that actually fit the dimensions of the space, after spending a summer with sets that nearly crushed the electrics and a cast the size of a small army. Plus, there's nothing I enjoy more than the brisk San Francisco fog to quicken my way to BART, as opposed to the dry Utah heat to quicken my mile walk.
As one might expect for SF, there is a George W. Bush crack that incited self-righteous hoots and applause from the Prius-driving crowd, but being in college never seems as cool as when puppets are missing the dorms.
Aside from the old ladies passing around cookies during the second act, the show was hilarious. The guy at the box office told me the cheap seats on the side balcony were sold; maybe it's the 20/20 vision, but I could see just fine from the center balcony.
It was refreshing to see a small cast and a set that actually fit the dimensions of the space, after spending a summer with sets that nearly crushed the electrics and a cast the size of a small army. Plus, there's nothing I enjoy more than the brisk San Francisco fog to quicken my way to BART, as opposed to the dry Utah heat to quicken my mile walk.
As one might expect for SF, there is a George W. Bush crack that incited self-righteous hoots and applause from the Prius-driving crowd, but being in college never seems as cool as when puppets are missing the dorms.
8.19.2007
Newsies
-Take out "Hurricane" in the headline.
-Latest crimes against Canadians and the elderly.
-Excess of unrepaired building damage sustained by human remains kills two firefighters.
-Film director directs neighbors, own funeral.
-Liberal Iranian Christian "balances" CNN conservatism.
-I rock. Except when answering questions.
-Latest crimes against Canadians and the elderly.
-Excess of unrepaired building damage sustained by human remains kills two firefighters.
-Film director directs neighbors, own funeral.
-Liberal Iranian Christian "balances" CNN conservatism.
-I rock. Except when answering questions.
8.17.2007
Updates, schmupdates
It has been really great to be back from Utah. My slow recovery from acute culture shock aside, things have been going well. I got a job at the Daily Clog, whose measly pay will provide me with this semester's caffeinated indulgences. Kyle is convinced I don't know how to get a job that pays me well. Still working for the Department of Theater, Dance, and Performance Studies, but also stage managing a show, which will certainly change things up a bit.
But what I'm sure you all are waiting for is how the summer went. Avid readers know that I was stuck for three months working in marketing and box office for an opera company in northern Utah, where I was paid about $1000 to work 9-12 hours a day, 6 days a week. I was pleasant and helpful to the 3,000+ people to whom I sold seats, which totaled over $75,000 in ticket sales. Bragging aside, I found it exceedingly difficult to be patient and kind with elderly people who have been attending for many years who still do not know that we do not, have not, and will not offer a senior discount.
The entire experience was sort of like an anthropological or ethnographic (Pop quiz: and can someone identify the difference?) experiment. My brief stint as a Catholic in my early years (namely, that I was baptized) served as one of my only playing cards in casual conversation with coworkers and locals. My knee-length skirts were gawked at by more conservatively-dressed women and honked at by truck-driving men; tank tops were frowned upon, sleeveless shirts questionable; the coffee shop was my only safe haven.
Caffe Ibis is lovely. It reminds me of several coffee shops around the Bay Area and Sonoma County (think Aroma Roasters, Coffee Catz, Ritual), but since it's so sparsely populated by heathens who drink coffee, the employees have more time for conversation and making me whatever they please.
There is little to no interpersonal conflict in Utah, at all. A lot of passive aggression, a lot of gossip, but no argument.
The living situation was fascinating. 50-60 people from all different parts of the country living in the same apartment complex about one and a half miles from work. The parties were outrageous, the cops even more outrageous (half the force takes pictures with the crew, the other half belligerently breaks up the parties), and the crazy youngsters could not keep their pants on. Maybe it was my terrible bed or the guys that make Berkeley EECS boys look hot, but Marvin Gaye just wasn't doing it for me.
The nature, however, was gorgeous. Whenever I could, which wasn't especially often, I'd tolerate folks I could hitch a ride with into the canyons or up to Bear Lake, like my parents, who came to visit.
All in all, I'm glad to be back. Back from one of the world's largest per capita consumers of Jello and Kraft products, back from a highly concentrated demography of the world's richest and fastest growing religion's followers, back to my comfy bed and gay roommates and social and genetic diversity.
But what I'm sure you all are waiting for is how the summer went. Avid readers know that I was stuck for three months working in marketing and box office for an opera company in northern Utah, where I was paid about $1000 to work 9-12 hours a day, 6 days a week. I was pleasant and helpful to the 3,000+ people to whom I sold seats, which totaled over $75,000 in ticket sales. Bragging aside, I found it exceedingly difficult to be patient and kind with elderly people who have been attending for many years who still do not know that we do not, have not, and will not offer a senior discount.
The entire experience was sort of like an anthropological or ethnographic (Pop quiz: and can someone identify the difference?) experiment. My brief stint as a Catholic in my early years (namely, that I was baptized) served as one of my only playing cards in casual conversation with coworkers and locals. My knee-length skirts were gawked at by more conservatively-dressed women and honked at by truck-driving men; tank tops were frowned upon, sleeveless shirts questionable; the coffee shop was my only safe haven.
Caffe Ibis is lovely. It reminds me of several coffee shops around the Bay Area and Sonoma County (think Aroma Roasters, Coffee Catz, Ritual), but since it's so sparsely populated by heathens who drink coffee, the employees have more time for conversation and making me whatever they please.
There is little to no interpersonal conflict in Utah, at all. A lot of passive aggression, a lot of gossip, but no argument.
The living situation was fascinating. 50-60 people from all different parts of the country living in the same apartment complex about one and a half miles from work. The parties were outrageous, the cops even more outrageous (half the force takes pictures with the crew, the other half belligerently breaks up the parties), and the crazy youngsters could not keep their pants on. Maybe it was my terrible bed or the guys that make Berkeley EECS boys look hot, but Marvin Gaye just wasn't doing it for me.
The nature, however, was gorgeous. Whenever I could, which wasn't especially often, I'd tolerate folks I could hitch a ride with into the canyons or up to Bear Lake, like my parents, who came to visit.
All in all, I'm glad to be back. Back from one of the world's largest per capita consumers of Jello and Kraft products, back from a highly concentrated demography of the world's richest and fastest growing religion's followers, back to my comfy bed and gay roommates and social and genetic diversity.
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