No need to search MSNBC.com to find the Wig Olympics. Bob Costas is not going to cover it. No worries though. I’ve got it all right here. The official date of competition for this prestigious sport was the day after the Opening Ceremonies, complete with Wig Registration and John Williams and the Boston Pops’ rendition of the Olympic theme song. We had the following events:  Shakira, Billy Ray Cyrus, Greg Brady, Gloria Gaynor and the Biathlon (in case someone wore a wig + costume). The gold medal ceremony was tearful, as you might expect. 

Since everyone likes a “before” and “after” shot… here you go.

BEFORE

The party planners: Wendy, Lori, Natalie, and I. We went with a Beijing theme.

Next Step: Hair Nets

AFTER

And then this guy showed up.

 

So… what was your first concert? That’s always a favorite question of mine to ask people when I first meet them (especially when they respond with “New Kids on the Block”). Mine was UB40 at the age of 14. My brother had quite the affinity to everything reggae and dreadlocks, and I followed along as an eager fan as well. The concert was in Seattle, and my brother and a friend and I all had 3rd level balcony seats… but we had a glimmer of hope that our luck would turn. We had a another friend in the front row willing to elbow people aside so we could rush the stage at the opening song, which we did. Not bad for my first concert experience to be in the front row, singing my heart out.

Now jump ahead 20 years. Carl surprised me this week with tickets to see UB40 in concert again. They were just as good as I had remembered… and it was everything a concert should be. (You can go ahead and laugh, but they were truly great.) People were dancing the entire time, there was a complete trumpet section, and they played all my favorites.

Here’s some UB40 for you. I would have posted “Red, Red Wine” but you could only hear the middle-aged crowd singing along.

There’s something drastically wrong when the high for the day is only 55 degrees. Yes, I’m experiencing my first summer in San Francisco. I actually just got corrected that it’s my first winter in the city. Around here, winter happens in July. It is cold! People are wearing beanies and polar fleeces and scarves during the day, and I saw a woman wearing a turtle-neck on the bus today. It’s just plain wrong. After work I decided to go on a walk down to the water to take in a good view of the Golden Gate Bridge. It had disappeared! All I saw was an enormous fog bank. It was as if the bridge never existed! argh.

Fortunately, we have had some incredible sunny days here…. so there is hope. Below are some pictures from a kickball tournament at Chrissy Field, overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. A record 90-degree day in the city (back in April). I will dream of sun, no wind or fog, and balmy days…. all which I hope will be in my future soon.

Every time I walked by this booth I picked up a few freebie chocolates. I’m ready to reach the world with some candy!

Really? Really? C’mon people. 

No comment. Just study this picture very closely.

I used to get frustrated when I’d go to the Christian Booksellers Convention and see this kind of cheesy stuff displayed alongside the Christian DDR, Christian Karaoke and Christian lotion… now I just take great pleasure in it. It’s actually a goal of mine to try to find the cheesiest items on the convention floor. This time, I had less time to walk the floor… but I hope you’ll enjoy what I discovered. 

I had a major celebrity sighting at Wimbledon. As you’ll see in this photo, I saw (from left to right) Jim Courier, Ivan Lendl, Boris Becker, John McEnroe, Chris Everett, Bjorn Borg, and Pete Sampras. One by one they started passing by… and I was fortunate enough to get them to pose with me for a photo. I know… they look a lot different than you probably remember.

I was just bummed that I didn’t have a wig. If only I had known!

I had some helpers get me on my bus this morning… thanks to Olivia, Laila, Boo and Matt. I did get passed up by several express buses because they were so packed this morning. I eventually squeezed onto the 38BX Express Bus, and as the doors closed, I heard a little voice yell “Bye Nini!” Everyone on the bus looked at me from their half-awake Monday glow, nodded, and then went back to reading their papers and listening to their i-Pods. For me, it was a great way to start a Monday.

So, I did something “not Marlene-like.” Yes, I was spontaneous. Not that I don’t have a spontaneous bone in my body, but I’m definitely more of the planner type. So, a week ago I bought a ticket to London to join my Dad at his last business trip at Wimbledon. And, here I am! For his first time in 12 years of coming to this tournament, my Dad was able to watch a full day of tennis uninterrupted. We watched Venus Williams, Andrew Murray (the locals favorite), and Andy Roddick battle it out and eventually lose to our dismay! But, we cheered ourselves up with the traditional strawberries and cream, and it was delish! (Yes, my friends, anytime you pour straight cream on something, it’s got to be a good thing.) And for the first time in 12 years, my Dad took the tube (Underground) with me to Wimbledon. He did a great job of “minding the gap.”

Cheers!

 

So, you probably didn’t think you’d see Beckham’s name twice on my blog. Well, if you can bend it, I guess you’re allowed a little extra attention. 

Krista came up for an adventurous weekend: dinner at Weird Fish (a whole in the wall restaurant in the Mission, with doughnut appetizers from the next door bakery), biking across the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito… and almost being knocked over by the wind in the process.

(Hey.. now that I’ve walked, biked and driven across the Golden Gate Bridge in a convertible… what’s next? Maybe I’ll try kart-wheeling.)

   

That night, we went to Oakland to watch the LA Galaxy destroy the San Jose Earthquakes. I know.. I should have been cheering for the Earthquakes, but that was tough to do when Beckham was clearly on the other team. Carl was also a celebrity with his orange Holland sweatshirt… random strangers were giving him High-Fives. (If you didn’t know, Holland is kicking some bootie in the European Cup.)

On Sunday, Krista and I explored the North Beach festival… from China Town to Little Italy to the public transportation on Muni, Krista really got a good sense that she was not in Santa Barbara anymore.

Hey, hey, hey… goodbye. Sadness for me. Diane is moving from San Francisco to Chico! She was my Google Maps in the flesh when I first moved here.. plus her place became my hotel, storage unit, and place of refuge when I was overwhelmed with my move. I’m going to miss her!

Diane is one of the most generous people I know. Here’s a typical conversation. Me: “Diane… what a cool looking Timbuktu bag.” Diane: “Oh… why don’t you have it?” Me: “umm… what?? I just thought it was a cool bag. You don’t need to give it to me.” Diane: “Oh.. take it. I have another one.” Or… Me: “Diane.. I don’t GET this Blackberry thing. I’m a caveman, and I don’t get these new techie devices.” Diane: “Oh here.. give it to me.” (Clickety, click, click, etc, etc…. and it’s programmed before I can blink.) Or.. Me: “I’m wiped from this week.” Diane: “Oh come on over… and I’ll make you a huge steak and potatoes dinner, and you can fall asleep on my couch.” She is great. Chico is lucky to have her!!

My suitcase had a 2-day break from the North Carolina trip before it was packed again for a long overdue visit to Santa Barbara for Memorial Weekend. It was a full weekend of seeing friends, celebrating Audrey and Duane’s wedding, and giving Carl the “my favorite things in Santa Barbara tour.”

Yes! It’s official!

Enjoying the sites at I’Madonnari.

Then… the suitcase had no break, but a quick change-eroo from beach-wear to business attire for a book convention in the suburbs of Chicago. The good news was that Brooke rescued me from the confines of the 70’s resort hotel. Thanks Brooke!

Moments before and after this photo, Brooke and I were in an “attack of the killer bugs” scene. We did a good job faking it for this picture though.

The suitcase adventures continued from the Chicago-O’Hare airport to San Francisco. After arriving almost 2 hours late, I made a mad dash to meet up with some friends for a movie. With my trusty suitcase in tow, I ran to BART, hailed a cab, and charged up the stairs in the dark theater (as if it were normal to be carrying a suitcase rather than some popcorn) and made it into my seat just as the words “Feature Presentation” made it onto the screen. Mission accomplished. I think my suitcase may want to retire now.