Foot of the Charles Bridge, February 2008

On another note ...

My deep, incredible love for Adam still has no bearing on the fact that I would do Bill Clinton ten ways to Sunday if only I got the chance.

I was just writing an email to Amy and I found the words to describe how I feel these days:

It's just the most wondrous time, really, which means I sometimes find myself speechless and staring at the wall. I love Adam so much and the fact that whichever entity runs this world had the good grace to let him love me back is kind of knocking me out.

Yeah. That's about accurate.

April 6

Eight days from now, I will marry my best friend. It is the turning of a page, the blossoming of a new flower on a solid, sturdy tree. It is a wonderful thing and I plan to enjoy each moment.

Parker

My brother is my hero.

On Saturday night, his dog Parker was hit and killed by a car. Just writing those words hurts. Parker was a wild child -- the Pit Bull in him made him way energetic and prone to running -- but both the Pit and the Labrador in him made him the sweetest, most affectionate dog. The few times I met him, I saw how he made everyone grin with his wild antics and foot-sitting. He had such love and such life.

I couldn't write about it until now. The pain my brother suffered -- there aren't words.

Today he adopted a two-month-old puppy from the Escondido Animal Shelter. And he gave him the name I would give my own dog. He named him Jake.

I think Parker is somewhere out there watching, and he's happy.

Profs in high places

Brian Fagan was recently on the Daily Show!

Fagan is awesome. I had him as an anthropology professor at UCSB, and he was entertaining as hell. He went off on how "Louis Leakey was the biggest bastard I ever met" and how Leakey's wife (or was it another anthropologist? Margaret Mead? I don't remember now) "smoked a big phallus of a cigar." You didn't dare fall asleep in his class or he'd get up in your face and berate you.

For the final exam, he had us over to his beautiful house in Montecito (I think) and served us warm English beer. Memories!

Sex Without Love

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

- Sharon Olds

Absinthe -- the new big thing?

Hoark. This shit made me hallucinate when I was living in the Czech Republic. Pass the Becherovka, please.

Check these out

Do it.

This one too.

Trust me. You'll be glad.

Support StageWerx!

I met with Ty Mckenzie, co-owner of StageWerx, tonight. They've been working since January to create a beautiful theater space and they sure have succeeded. I'll be taking the space for rehearsal and perhaps for my eventual show. I encourage anyone who's interested in theater, either as a performer or audience member or both, to support this great new venue!

On April 6, I will stand under the chuppah and marry Adam.

As we've been planning the wedding, I've come to understand that the process somewhat mirrors a relationship itself. There will be times I want to wring his neck, times I'm teary with joy, and times that we're just plain laughing.

Yesterday we sat at World Ground Cafe and wrote our vows. Earlier in the afternoon we got the marriage license and sat joking with the clerk as she printed up the information.

This has been a special time for us. It certainly hasn't been without challenges, but it's been very, very special. When we stand before Rabbi Adam (or, if Rabbi Adam is for some reason terribly delayed, my brother), the work will show itself in the reward.

But I've deliberately planned this wedding to not be the end of the road. I've tried to be as low-key as possible, even in times of stress. I don't want to be one of those brides who walks down the aisle all coy, while everyone else hates her because she made their lives miserable for a year. Not my style.

Besides, we have plans. On April 10, four days after we're married, we're seeing Arlo Guthrie on the UC Berkeley campus. Two days later, we're seeing Carrie Fisher perform at the Berkeley Rep. And on April 15, I turn 34.

It's like an alarm clock! Whoo-whoo!

How could I have ever missed out on Bubb Rubb and Lil Sis?

And now for something completely different

I love these guys!

I just posted this story over at Commercial Property News. I find the idea of a Wal-Mart tailoring itself to its community very interesting ... in this case, it's an issue of the store making itself more accessible to the largely Arab-American community of Dearborn, Mich. Smart idea, I think.

This morning I had a bit of a stress-out about the wedding. It's a wonderful thing and there are many times I find myself in tears of happiness over it all, but this morning it felt like a conglomeration of lists, tasks, and a lot of money spent on a single day, in a world where people eat dirt for dinner. "We started off wanting it simple," I said. "How did we get away from that?" City Hall, why did we not just go to City Hall?

Then we went down to City Hall to get the marriage license. There were people in wedding finery getting married right there at the counter. It seemed really anticlimactic. I now understand a little better why we're doing it as we are.

Today

- Got the rototiller and began unearthing the backyard. Boy did that feel good.
- Ate at Cafe Durant.
- Hung out at Gaylords.
- Got our wedding rings. They're pretty.

I love how Adam will actually take on loud cell-phone talking douchebags in public and ask them to quiet the fuck down. He puts his money where his mouth is.

In the moment

Wildflowers on Monday, some highly anticipated plans for next Saturday. We've got the ketubah and the rings. Now's the time to have some fun.

Daily Show nails Code Pink!

Man, this is better pornographic material than I've seen in a long time. Awesome!

I'm having such a hard time writing my piece. It doesn't so much break my heart as annoy the shit out of my mind and soul.

"Kristy, baby, keep breathing, keep breathing."

Heartbreaking.

Nas Ne Dogonyat

One day, back when I was teaching in Pardubice, I walked into my ninth-grade classroom. They were playing this high, screeching crap.

"What's that high, screeching crap?" I asked. I believed in teaching them real-life phrases.

"This is Russian lesba," they said.

Beautiful.

Among the many reasons I will not visit Puerto Rico -- reports of dubious safety for tourists being among them -- is this story:

This much seems certain about the events of last October at three housing projects in this town near Puerto Rico’s northern coast: Men working for the municipality entered the projects, rounded up dozens of dogs and cats that they said violated the housing authority’s no-pets policy and took them away.

What happened next is less clear, but a lawsuit filed on behalf of 33 families claims that city employees and contractors drugged and brutalized dozens of animals and then flung them from a 50-foot-tall highway bridge into a weed-choked ravine and left them to die.

Witnesses say they found a pile of dog corpses and skeletons beneath the bridge, but the contractors have denied wrongdoing and city officials have denied responsibility.

I won't visit for the same reason I won't visit China: the flagrant disregard for the innate rights of living things, people and animals alike. I won't support these places with my tourist dollars. It's perhaps the most I can do, but at least it is something.

If you're interested, here's the first set of pictures from our trip.

Also, I want to brag about Luke Snyder, the great photographer we've hired for our wedding. I can't wait to work with Luke! His natural, documentary-like style and obvious sense of humor totally jives with my vision -- I knew the minute I saw his site that I wanted to work with him.

Charles Bridge, February 2008

We're home!

It's 5 am and I'm just rolling with the jet lag. We went to four cities: Prague, Pardubice, Vienna, and Budapest. The great joys: Just about everything. The great frustration: I didn't get to meet up with my friend Pavla, and it's pretty much my fault. The beauty of it all: We can always go back.

Pictures to come. For now, here's a video of us at our suite at the Corinthia Grand Royal Hotel in Budapest. Enjoy. We sure did.

Last night in Budapest

Two weeks of pre-honeymoon in Europe. It's been amazing. Just amazing. See you on the other side!

This came with sparkling wine

And an upgrade to a suite -- I am not kidding -- at Budapest's number-one hotel, the Corinthia Grand Hotel Royal:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Sandler,

A very warm welcome to the Corinthia Grand Hotel Royal.

Please allow me to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your wedding. We are very pleased that you are spending your honeymoon in Budapest.

On behalf of the entire management and staff, we wish you every happiness, good health, and success.

Best Regards,

Adrian Ellis
General Manager

OK. Holy cow!

First, a little background: Adam and I were going to get married in Prague and spend the vacation as a honeymoon, but the Jewish moms were not happy and I understood. However, Adam had made sure to tell the hotel ... and when we got in, we got good news.

"You've been upgraded to a suite at no extra charge," the smartly dressed guy at the check-in counter said. After the bellhop (!) departed, we got another knock on the door: the sparkling wine. "I hope you're 21," the guy carrying it said.

"Thank you for asking," I said, and toasted him.