And your host is

Viola pedunculata. Also known as Johnny Jump-up and the nectar source for the Callippe butterfly as it migrates. The Hills of Pleasanton are full of this flower and the time for blooming is now. Look for it on the slopes of hills, but not too close to the top; the wind is too strong there for this dainty flower.

When ordering old-fashioned-like, disclose nothing

While at the 2nd ever Savory Cocktail night at Alembic bar on Haight, I overheard the most disturbing, but possibly thoughtful(?) comment. Mulling over their newly acquired pre-prohibition drinks (the theme of the night), one young rough looking man says to his likewise leather clad friends, "I'd give you guys some of my drink, but I totally have this cold sore right now."

Informative, sure. Considerate, definitely. But I couldn't help thinking there were a ton of of other ways he could have avoided drink sharing than promoting mental images of sores.

G-Funk Era

This rating irritates me for some reason. Not certain why, except that it insinuates that my life is G-rated and therefore as boring as, like, The Little Mermaid, or Disney's Three Muskateers (Chris O'Donnel's saddest hour...). Once, I rented a horror movie, ready to be scared and, in my horror movie naivety, did not notice that it was rated PG-13. Considered a horror movie no more, the movie was comedic, with cheesy one-liners and transparent ghosts seeking redemption. But forget that. I don't even make it that far, remaining stuck down here with the other peeps enjoying Rugrats in Paris.

Little Bunny, Oddly Moving

Carousel. Catalyst. Cocktails.

Lloyd's event has become monthly fun. Everyone should come next time, a la mid-April. Miss Kelli will be DJing, sure to be a hoot.

Through my father's eyes.

I borrowed my parents' old camera Saturday to take some pictures of a hillside in Pleasanton for work and found pictures from their trip to Arizona on it from 2006. I love how amused my mother looks.They brought me back a teeshirt from the Coffee Pot Restaurant in Sedona, Arizona. Sarah and I had been there for breakfast a few months earlier and my mom agreed that they have the BEST BISCUITS EVER.

William in Sonoma

Bill's birthday was Monday, so we took a jaunt up to Sonoma for a night. We stayed here, drank wine from here, ate a fantastic meal here (truffle fries, what?). The trip was so much fun, and we felt like we were far from the city, even though the drive only took an hour. Indulgence. More photos here.

I swear this analyzes wetlands

Attachment, as in, like, a vacuum.

The concept of a robotic pet creeps me out. It may be unreasonable that it creeps me out as much as it does, but I can't help it if the image of a woman snuggling up and petting her pet "Peeky" gives me an uncomfortable chill. SF GATE ran THIS article today about such robo-pets, reactions to them, and people's attachments. Sure, there are perks, like no fuss no muss, no feeding (although it simulates eating a leaf, the preferred food choice of small dinosaurs), and it won't, well, die. Actually, it may die, but can be miraculously revived by the insertion of two AAs.

There are so many sci-fi induced places you could go with this -- The Jetsons, Terminator, A-I (god save us), buffybot, and, more recently, Cylons -- and the same issue always comes up. Can the robots feel? Can they develop attachment? It seems sad to me that some people think these small robots can actually provide affection...

Novel, yes. Amusing? Possibly. Providing some form of companionship for people who may really need it? Sure...but in a creepy way.

I was going to bring my dictionary, but thought it might be too geeky

Anna and I scrabble-ize. She beats me a majority of the time, which is actually good because I like the challenge. I thrive on the "almost" win. She spelled "vixen." I spelled "urine." She toyed with "mullet" and then let it go because of the point sacrifice, only to turn around and make 32 points off "ax." Saturday afternoon in a Chico coffee shop: well spent.