oopsie daisy

My Interview with the Bold Italic: The stuff they should've shown

The kind folks at The Bold Italic reached out to me last week asking if I wanted to be featured on their site as a "Found Local." Never one to turn down anything that's ALL ABOUT ME, I, of course, said yes.

Mat Rick, who is one of my new favorite people because he went to the 49ers NFC Championship game all by himself, sent me a list of questions which I diligently answered while in the car on the way to Tahoe. I didn't even let the fact that Campfriend's Jeep killed itself in Auburn deter me.

You can read the actual interview here (it was posted before the brutal 49ers loss in the NFC Championship, so excuse my optimism), but since they couldn't feature all of my answers, I thought I'd post the ones that weren't published here. SF represent.

 

Name: Daisy Barringer

Title: 49ers Fan, Hedonist, Non-Hugger

Neighborhood: Upper Haight, but sometimes I lie and say Cole Valley

Gig: Writer

 

SF is...

Everything I want or need in a city.

 

Where do you get your local gossip (and why)? (blog, paper, etc.)

I wish my answer were the Nob Hill Gazette, but, it’s SFist and Twitter. I’m also a masochist because I love reading the comments on SFGate. That’s not gossip as much as it is inane blather, but it’s just so entertaining.

 

Where's your go-to date place (and why)?

That’s so cute that you think people ask me out on dates.

 

Why do you love your neighborhood? 

Snob alert! I love that I’m two blocks away from Haight Street, but up such a steep hill that I can completely escape the gutter punk kids who are too lazy to make the hike.

 

Where's your secret spot (and why)? 

My 8’ long / 47” deep couch from Restoration Hardware. I should probably say something like The Wave Organ, but I’m pretty unapologetic about the fact that the sloth is my spirit animal. Also, they don’t show “The Real Housewives” at The Wave Organ. But they should, right?

 

What's your favorite under-the-radar SF restaurant (that others may not know about)?

This isn’t exactly under the radar, but I feel like everyone should order the Caesar salad and Chicken for two at Zuni. Oh, and I’m a big fan of ½ price wine nights at Perry’s. I like to go there after the gym to nullify all of my hard work.

 

What's your favorite SF institution (i.e., character, food cart, museum, landmark)?

The Exploratorium. I’ve been going there since I was six. I love that now they have “After Dark” with cocktails, but I’m pretty bummed they’re moving out of The Palace of Fine Arts.

 

What's next for you in your personal world?

I’m paying my therapist a lot of money to try to figure that exact thing out.

 

What's next for you in your work/creative world?

Not sure, but if anyone wants to pay me to write for them, I’m available! (Don’t worry. My therapist and I are totally working on my whole lack of tact and shame thing.)

 

What's next for San Francisco?

I really hope it’s a sixth Lombardi trophy.

 

Ugh. That last answer is really depressing.

 

 

On Pencil Sharpening. Seriously.

My friend David Jacobs is incredibly smart and even more opinionated. But the thing is: he’s one of those guys who’s has a strong viewpoint on everything, but also wants to seem nice. Which, when we’re talking about me, is totally my favorite.

For example, yesterday he was telling me – AGAIN – what a great writer I am. I know, I know. You’re not supposed to admit to stuff like that if you want people to take you seriously, but you know what? BECAUSE I want you to take me seriously, I’m going to admit to stuff like that. Because, um, hi. Writers don’t write so that we can sit at home all alone with our cats and cheap grocery store wine while perusing our journals from high school. You think I wrote those journals for ME? Please. Every single word I’ve every written was in the hopes that one day—some day—I’d have an audience who wanted to read them.

Duh.

Anyway. Back to me. (Oh right. Because we ever leave that topic.) Earlier today my smart, talented, super intelligent friend David Jacobs and I were talking about great I am. Okay FINE. We were actually talking about football, but in between that, he might have said something kind of exactly like:

“You could write about pencil sharpening and I'd read it.”

So, my awesome friend David Jacobs. This post is for you.

On Pencil Sharpening: An instructional how-to for people who don’t know how to sharpen a mother fucking pencil. In 34 easy-to-follow steps.

1. Before we can really tackle this subject, first we need to discover why it is you feel the need to write with a pencil. As far as I’m concerned, the only important difference between a pencil and a pen is that a pencil is impermanent. Erasable. Changeable. Uncertain. So maybe the bigger question here is: WHY A PENCIL?
2. I’m not a therapist, but I have one who’s outrageously expensive and would happily chitchat with you about everything except your need to use pencils. Bonus: he’ll also laugh at all of your jokes. Sometimes for, like, twenty seconds. Which you’ll later calculate cost you $1.34. But, I mean, hi: it’s kind of worth that much just to have someone laugh at your jokes, am I right?
3. Anyway, after you get validation that your childhood was pretty fucked up and that it basically makes sense why you are the way you are, hopefully you’ll have the confidence to buy a pack of goddamn pens (which pen specifically is too broad of a subject to tackle here, but when you’re ready, rest assured: I have an opinion) and end this pencil nonsense.
4. In the meantime, because, yes, the therapist’s job is to drag this out for weeks/months/years, let’s talk about your stupid pencil.
5. Am I going to set you back with your shrink if I ask why you’re not smart enough to buy a mechanical pencil?
6. Fine. I’ll pretend for the sake of this exercise that you’re taking a standardized test. Maybe the LSAT! Your parents always did hope you’d amount to more…
7. I guess I’m also now pretending that we live in the 1980s and they don’t offer these tests on magical machines called computers.
8. Honestly, if you’re going to make me go back in time, can we at least go back to a time when Huey Lewis & the News didn’t rule the airwaves?
9. PSYCH! I LOVE HUEY LEWIS & THE NEWS! (You remember “psych,” don’t you? It’s from the ‘80s. When you still had things like “hope” and “dreams.” And the confidence to write in pen. FINE, it was erasable, but still.)
10.  Anyway, no point in living in the past. Here we are. Just you and your pencil. Your unsharpened, good-for-nothing pencil.
11. Um, yeah. I just Googled “unsharpened pencil” and was assaulted with this result: “Life without God is an unsharpened pencil.” Mostly I blame myself for relying on Google for help when I’m feeling uninspired, but also? FUCK YOU. (You is YOU, not Google. Just in case that wasn’t clear.)
12.  So, just so I’m clear, we are now in total agreement that life is far better without unsharpened pencils and/or pencils in general, right?
13. I hate you.
14. Okay. Take the pencil. Now find your sharpener. OH RIGHT. This is basically impossible because pencil sharpeners aren’t an actual thing that exist! Kind of like “happy marriages” and “good parenting.”
15. You know what? Because I’m feeling so generous and because you’re basically the most demanding and insecure person I’ve ever met, I’m going to help you out. Go to my bathroom. Look on the third shelf all the way to the right. There. See that blue plastic thing? That’s my eyeliner sharpener. TAKE IT. It’s a gift. No seriously. Keep it. I can totally afford a new one.
16. Now stick your pencil in my sharpener.
17. Ew.
18. No seriously. Ew.
19. Wow. Really?
20. Still?
21. Awesome. I’ll just sit here while you….
22. Okay. Now, oh god. This is only going to get… Now turn your pencil in my—I mean—THE—sharpener.
23. Keep turning it. Like a good nine or ten solid turns.
24. Now pull your pencil out.
25. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
26. Assess the tip of your pencil. This is a personal preference. Personally, I like a pencil so sharp (not that I write with pencils because I’m not a savage, but IF I DID) that I may very easily shatter the tip with one forceful crossing of a “t.” You seem like you may like your pencils a little more, well…accessible. But hey—whatever. You can always come back and sharpen it again.
27. Speaking of. Oh my god. Did you let the pencil shavings spill all over the floor in step 23? Jesus Chris Mother of Mercy. You’re supposed to sharpen your pencil over a wastebasket. Or even the toilet. Were you raised in a barn? Oh, this is my fault because I didn’t tell you exactly how to do it? Well played. Well. Played.
28. Pick that shit up.
29. Hopefully by now your therapy is starting to resonate and you’re feeling like the things you have to write are worth inking for eternity. But just in case you have a relapse, let’s try the pencil out.
30. Here’s a single sheet of binder paper. That seems like something people who use pencils would be into.
31. Write whatever you want.
32. Oh, look at you. An “F,” a “U,” a “C”…
33. Oh! Look at that. Someone’s pencil broke already! Next time try writing with less “enthusiasm.”
34. Also, is that REALLY your handwriting? Yikes. Good luck with that.

So there you go David Jacobs. This is what happens when I can’t sleep at night and when I make a New Year’s resolution two weeks into the New Year that I’m going to post on my blog at least two times a week. What tough topic would you like me to tackle next?

Daisy promises to blog more in 2012 if you promise to be patient while she remembers how to do so.

My Thoughts on the Alpine Meadows/Squaw Valley "Merger"

If you follow me on Twitter, you’re probably well aware of how much I love Alpine Meadows and how often I snowboard there. I grew up in San Francisco, so I’ve had a chance to ski and ride almost every resort in Lake Tahoe, but even as a kid, Alpine Meadows was one of my favorites. I loved the trees, loved the friendly staff (this matters when you’re stuck in ski school all day), loved the terrain, and loved that so many of my friends went there.

I’ll never forget Ski Week in 7th grade. My friend Marcella and I were very into skiing. But we were also VERY into finding cute boys. It was one of those magically warm Tahoe weeks and we skied without gloves or hats, our hair flying in the wind as we flew down the mountain. I even somehow convinced my mom to let me ski in jeans on the very last day. You have NO idea how cool I thought I was as I bombed through Hot Wheels Gully, showing off for whomever might be paying attention. (No one, but I was twelve, so I just assumed everyone.)

Fast forward to five years ago and my return to SF after fifteen years on the east coast. I was now a (brand new) snowboarder and free to ride wherever I want since my mother no longer paid for my lift tickets.  There was never a question in my mind where that would be and as soon as I joined my first ski house in 2007, I got an unfiltered (read: no black out days) pass for Alpine Meadows/Homewood. Obvi.

I was a pretty new snowboarder when I moved back to California and Alpine was the perfect place to learn. The fact that there are trees between most of the runs made me feel safe and very aware of my surrounding, which is key when you’re just starting to turn. The runs were groomed impeccably and my instructors were super friendly and great teachers. (Also: hot.)

Last year, when I launched a jump and crashed really badly, Alpine Meadows’ ski patrol and nurses took incredible care of me. Within seconds of falling, a staff member was on his radio and it less than three minutes before I was surrounded by people who were there to make sure I was safe and healthy. Later that night, Alpine employees tweeted and Facebook messaged me to check in and see how I was doing. My spine was fractured, but I didn’t know that yet. I was back out on the mountain the next day.

The injury was brutal, yes, but the snow last year was too good to let it stop me. I snowboarded at Alpine almost every weekend, including Easter weekend and even the 4th of July.

I’ve been snowboarding for four years now and I’ve gotten a pass at Alpine Meadows for each of those. Every year I’ve found something else I love about Alpine that I hadn’t discovered before: The hikes, the trees, the Ice Bar, Randy, James and Scott, Kate and her magic wand at Summit Chair, women-only clinics, the amazing super-friendly marketing team, hula hoop competitions, free socks, and did I mention the hikes, the trees, and the powder? Oh. And the rescue dogs! Tell me seeing a Golden Retriever rescue dog riding down the chair lift, heads on paws, BY HIMSELF, isn’t the cutest thing ever. No don’t. Because you’d be wrong.

Last year, on a cold, blizzarding Monday, I rode straight down the mountain in three feet of powder for the very first time. I want to say I felt like I was flying, but that description doesn’t do it justice. I’ve been going to the mountains since I was three years old, but I’d never experienced anything like this. It was totally overwhelming and I never wanted it to end. My adrenaline was threw the roof. And when I got back to the lift…I burst into tears. The first time in my entire life I’ve ever cried tears of happiness. It was amazing.

Everything I’ve just written doesn’t explain, however, why I was so disappointed this morning when I woke up to the news that Alpine Meadows merged with Squaw Valley, so let me explain.

Squaw Valley is known worldwide for its amazing terrain and steeps. It’s known locally for it’s snobby staff, corporate attitude, elitist clientele, incredibly long lift lines, and the fact that it gets skied out in moments. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to getting a drink in the Squaw Valley Village après ski, but only after I’ve enjoyed an awesome day at Alpine Meadows and paid a visit to the Alpine Bar to say hi to the bartenders who greet me by name.

Alpine Meadows is more of a locals’ mountain. The staff is super friendly. The vibe is chill. You can find stashes of powder days after a big storm. It’s exactly what I want when I’m trying to escape from the city and the chaos of life.


In addition, with an Alpine Meadows pass always came a Homewood pass. Homewood is the perfect place to go on a windy day when the lifts at Alpine (and Squaw) aren’t running. There are many things about Homewood that could be improved (mainly the chair lifts), but Homewood is even chiller than Alpine and doesn’t seem to get skied out-ever.

Now, assuming everyone who loved Squaw continued to ski at Squaw and everyone who loves Alpine continued to ski at Alpine, this merger wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? The only bummer would be the loss of Homewood as part of your pass (as of next year), which would be sad, but not a deal breaker.

Unfortunately, my prediction is this:

Any time Squaw skiers think Squaw is going to be crowded (long weekends etc.), they will come to Alpine Meadows and create longer lift lines and chaotic runs.

Any time there’s a powder day, Squaw skiers will flee the three hour KT lift lines they experienced last year and come to Alpine. In addition, those who do go to Squaw in the morning, will abandon Squaw as soon as it’s all skied out. By eleven a.m., most likely.

This merger is AWESOME for people who love Squaw. And the reactions on Facebook and Twitter have shown me that Squaw skiers are stoked. This is only good for them. They get to ski on their favorite mountain and then come take advantage of mine when they’re “finished” with theirs for the day.

But I can’t see anything good about this merger for people who call Alpine Meadows their home mountain. I have no desire to ski at Squaw. I don’t like the vibe or the lift lines, and frankly, I’ll take High-T over KT any day.


Alpine Meadows promises that they’re going to work hard not to change the laid-back neighborhood vibe. But how much say will they really have now that KSL is in charge?

Mostly, I just hope I’m wrong and that this is a good move for everyone involved. It's possible, for sure. But I’ll believe it when I ski it.

Until then, thank you everyone at Alpine Meadows for some truly amazing years. You guys are the best and I'll never forget your hospitality and awesome snow.