This city is great for music. I honestly need to stop looking at show line-ups or else i'm going to end up LIVING IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER. I randomly got to see a pretty stellar Joy Division cover band one night when I was out (lead singer totally committed to all the mannerisms of Ian Curtis, kind of funny and a bit awkward looking).
Sunday night was a great show at my new favorite spot in the city called Bottom of the Hill. It's a low-key venue equipped with cheap beer and outdoor smoker's garden (not that I smoke, I swear).
Horse Feathers: I highly recommend this band to anyone, and not just because it has the word horse in it OK GABI. It would have been a great show but unfortunately the band had all gotten sick on the road and ended playing about 5 or so songs...total bummer, I wanted to hear so much more. What can I say, I have a major weakness for sweet-voiced, flannel shirt-wearing, bearded men with guitars. The night was still completely worthwhile, I enjoyed some QT with another great musician who came with me due to my intense ravings about the band. He plays the fiddle and is beard-less so his standing in my world is still unknown: )
Next up is a show tomorrow night at the same fabulous venue and the band is Vetiver, a band I got into a while ago in college yet still haven't gotten the chance to see live. Rob gives two thumbs up and he is one picky asshole so its got to be good!
Tomorrow is the first and probably last day off and free for a long time. Going to hang in Dolores park with some good company, including the pup and possibly a bottle of wine, hopefully the fickle SF weather will delight us with some nicer weather, but probably not.
Oh and lastly, my mom says that my blog is becoming "sophomoric" due to my rantings about alcohol consumption and public urination. But as I was looking up how to spell sophomoric (I know i'm ashamed) I happened to glance at the thesaurus and it read "brash, foolish, reckless and naive". Ummm, yup, all of the above sound about right for me and my life right now. I will see what I can do mommadukes but those words ring so true.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
"If I had nine of my fingers missing I wouldn't type any slower." Mitch Hedburg
Let's be honest. Blogs are pretty lame. Who honestly gives a rat's ass what some bum said to me on the street or what inner epiphany I happen to be experiencing or what band i'm totes stoked about seeing. Should I keep spouting nonsense now that my whole reason for writing this silly thing is over (eh hmmm road trip? I think it ended awhile ago right?) As a friend of mine just asked, "are you worried about the readership?" Errr by readership, I think he means my dear family and closest friends who are somewhat obligated to pay attention due to my absence from their lives (I still can't even get my sister to read it). Well...the only other option is to stop writing so I guess I will keep chugging along until someone calls me out for being vainglorious or self indulgent, and in that case I will probably just agree and then blog about them and their shitty attitude : )
Coincidences. The next time I have to fill out one of those gay questionnaires about likes and dislikes I am definitely going to file coincidences under likes. They are awesome.
I had to drop into my local copy shop today to print some final forms to obtain my CA CMT license and copy my ID. The store was totally empty except for the owner (an adorable Indian woman who was nervously looking over my shoulder as I searched the internet...I guess no quick porn peeks for me in this joint) and another mid twenties looking girl who resembled me (or me her, I dunno). As I was cashing out with the nervous shop owner, she accidentally handed me the other girls form. The form read "Smith College Social Work Program Loan Application". That's weird, my mother was in the exact same program and used to drag me to classes with her constantly when I was just a whipper snapper. I handed the girl her form and struck up a convo about Smith and why she was in the Bay area. She said she was just home for a break and was trying to get loans to start summer school there (Northampton, MA that is and for those of you who don't know, Smith is a relatively small, all female college in a small liberal town). She was equally as surprised at the little connection and we had a little chat about New England and the mission, she lives on my block)...then out of nowhere the little owner lady chimes in saying "My daughter went to college at Smith in 2002, I never heard of it before she went." We both immediately replied with a somewhat surprised look and agreed that it was pretty rad how three women in California all had a significant connection to one tiny school on the "other" coast. The nervous owner soon turned into a mother figure of sorts and offered us fruit, life lessons and warnings about San Francisco men. After about 20 minutes of chatting and learning about one another, the other girl and I exited the small store and each gave the shop owner a hug...i'm not sure exactly why, but it just felt right.
So far, it's these moments that have put a smile on my face the most on rainy, cold days like today. Month 1 is almost up and i'm still floatin on a cloud.
Coincidences. The next time I have to fill out one of those gay questionnaires about likes and dislikes I am definitely going to file coincidences under likes. They are awesome.
I had to drop into my local copy shop today to print some final forms to obtain my CA CMT license and copy my ID. The store was totally empty except for the owner (an adorable Indian woman who was nervously looking over my shoulder as I searched the internet...I guess no quick porn peeks for me in this joint) and another mid twenties looking girl who resembled me (or me her, I dunno). As I was cashing out with the nervous shop owner, she accidentally handed me the other girls form. The form read "Smith College Social Work Program Loan Application". That's weird, my mother was in the exact same program and used to drag me to classes with her constantly when I was just a whipper snapper. I handed the girl her form and struck up a convo about Smith and why she was in the Bay area. She said she was just home for a break and was trying to get loans to start summer school there (Northampton, MA that is and for those of you who don't know, Smith is a relatively small, all female college in a small liberal town). She was equally as surprised at the little connection and we had a little chat about New England and the mission, she lives on my block)...then out of nowhere the little owner lady chimes in saying "My daughter went to college at Smith in 2002, I never heard of it before she went." We both immediately replied with a somewhat surprised look and agreed that it was pretty rad how three women in California all had a significant connection to one tiny school on the "other" coast. The nervous owner soon turned into a mother figure of sorts and offered us fruit, life lessons and warnings about San Francisco men. After about 20 minutes of chatting and learning about one another, the other girl and I exited the small store and each gave the shop owner a hug...i'm not sure exactly why, but it just felt right.
So far, it's these moments that have put a smile on my face the most on rainy, cold days like today. Month 1 is almost up and i'm still floatin on a cloud.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Officially Square
That's right, no more hunting, no more ramblin...it's on. I was offered the job I wanted (weird right) and I tried my best to accept it without sounding like I would body tackle her with excitement. I got the news Monday afternoon after an incredible weekend and an even better Monday morning. I am now working with an editorial team (goal numero uno) and a therapeutic massage spa (goal numero dos-o), so now all I need is about 5 more jobs to supplement my income to survive in this swanky metropolis and I will be gravy.
But for now I am wayyy too busy trying to find my next ghetto apartment for me and the D.O.G to live in so peace in the middle east for now. I should actually start saying peace in Thailand, my stepmom's franchises were just burnt to the ground yesterday due to political unrest : (
Peace in Bangkok : )
But for now I am wayyy too busy trying to find my next ghetto apartment for me and the D.O.G to live in so peace in the middle east for now. I should actually start saying peace in Thailand, my stepmom's franchises were just burnt to the ground yesterday due to political unrest : (
Peace in Bangkok : )
"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness" (Ginsberg)
Madness indeed. As I embark on my very first "festival season" (as the locals call it) I can now say that I survived two of the many to come. Oyster Fest was on Saturday and was mediocre at best. With a $30 ticket for admission I was expecting some amazing freebies coming my way, no dice. The line to get the oysters gave me bad flashbacks to my days of waiting in the GA unemployment office with no end in sight (I never ended up actually getting them), there was a line to get beer "tokens" which you then bought and proceeded to wait in another line for the actual beer...dumb.
Bay to Breakers is the Big Poppa of them all and man, they were right. I have been to many a festival in my ripe old age of 25, but this day definitely takes the cake on a few different levels. Let me break it down:
1. Public nudity (surprise surprise most of the nude people were dudes and old and totally shouldn't be naked, but for some strange reason that's the way that always works out)
2. Creativity (so many amazing costumes to choose from, top 2 are double dare from Nickelodeon including "slime" colored beer and the never-nudes (a somewhat obscure reference to David Cross's character on the tv show Arrested Development).
I pranced around all day with a particularly lame pairing of costume closet throwaways and my own personal leg warmers. I was upset with myself for a brief moment for being completely unoriginal and not funny but I was soon drunk and forgot why I was even there in the first place. As you walk through the city streets, people stand on the side walk and gawk at all the freaky looking people and take tons of pictures. The bathroom issue is a tough one for the ladies because popping a squat in a alley with 100 other people hardly goes over as well as just turning your back to the crowd (damn men have it so easy). But with that said, I am glad because I asked this nice older looking gentleman standing outside a beautiful victorian if I could use their bathroom, half expecting to be spit on, he kindly let me in where I was greeted with the most amazing place I have seen in the city so far (and there was cheese and wine to boot whatttt). As I sat my cold, drunk butt down on their gold plated toilet (no joke) I started laughing to myself at what my life had brought me thus far. What a weird, mad year this has been!
Bay to Breakers is the Big Poppa of them all and man, they were right. I have been to many a festival in my ripe old age of 25, but this day definitely takes the cake on a few different levels. Let me break it down:
1. Public nudity (surprise surprise most of the nude people were dudes and old and totally shouldn't be naked, but for some strange reason that's the way that always works out)
2. Creativity (so many amazing costumes to choose from, top 2 are double dare from Nickelodeon including "slime" colored beer and the never-nudes (a somewhat obscure reference to David Cross's character on the tv show Arrested Development).
I pranced around all day with a particularly lame pairing of costume closet throwaways and my own personal leg warmers. I was upset with myself for a brief moment for being completely unoriginal and not funny but I was soon drunk and forgot why I was even there in the first place. As you walk through the city streets, people stand on the side walk and gawk at all the freaky looking people and take tons of pictures. The bathroom issue is a tough one for the ladies because popping a squat in a alley with 100 other people hardly goes over as well as just turning your back to the crowd (damn men have it so easy). But with that said, I am glad because I asked this nice older looking gentleman standing outside a beautiful victorian if I could use their bathroom, half expecting to be spit on, he kindly let me in where I was greeted with the most amazing place I have seen in the city so far (and there was cheese and wine to boot whatttt). As I sat my cold, drunk butt down on their gold plated toilet (no joke) I started laughing to myself at what my life had brought me thus far. What a weird, mad year this has been!
Thursday, May 13, 2010
"I'm running out of everything now. Out of veins, out of money" (Burroughs)
Life is funny. I used to always joke around and say that if anyone ever stole my identity I would feel bad for THEM. Normally, my bank account is dismal to say the least and my assets, well, I don't even know what that means. But as my own identity is constantly evolving and adapting to it's new surroundings, someone must have caught on and wanted to come along for the ride. Apparently someone in Nashville, TN that is and boy were they hungry! Two grand later and about 10,000 calories, I finally got hip to the fact that someone had stolen my identity and went to town. For the first time in a very long time, I had money to burn and that's exactly what the Nashville bandit did. He also dropped 300 at a Finish Line, so at least he got some fresh kicks to start off the summer in style.
My bank has been pretty understanding with the obviously obese and stylish human who has currently hijacked the numbers on my plastic. The money will be back in my account tomorrow and I already have a new card, kudos to the scam artist who pulled it off (my guess is it was that sketchy gas station in Texas where the bathroom had no lock, their only souvenir was a gun holster and ella refused to get out of the car). In regards to my own identity, it is fully intact and feels good.
My bank has been pretty understanding with the obviously obese and stylish human who has currently hijacked the numbers on my plastic. The money will be back in my account tomorrow and I already have a new card, kudos to the scam artist who pulled it off (my guess is it was that sketchy gas station in Texas where the bathroom had no lock, their only souvenir was a gun holster and ella refused to get out of the car). In regards to my own identity, it is fully intact and feels good.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
"I want your lingual spontineity or nothing else!" (Kerouac)
This is it. My last day as an unemployed bum, rolling like the desert tumble weeds of Texas, aimlessly driving then walking through city streets hoping to find a target. My life and my journey no longer consists of being a student or being in transition. I am here and life has begun. Phew.
Even with all the fun I have been having in my first few weeks in a new city, I am pleasantly surprised how productive I have managed to stay. Who knew I could function so well on less sleep and more booze. (no worries parents, I will take better care of my liver in the coming weeks). I had an interview today with a cool company, and I think it went well. I didn't break out in hives, or get that big lump in my throat or fart so those are all good signs that I didn't totally blow it. I did have the overwhelming feeling that someone was taking a hammer to my frontal lobe (damn Ketel One party) but other than that I managed to put my best front on of professional, aspiring editorial assistant. I even wore my black rimmed glasses to really drive it home (left the pencil out of my hair though). Fingers crossed.
Spa job starts tomorrow which will consist of me following my fabulous gay boss around and me trying to find out if I get any free perks as an employee (tanning maybe? I hear all that nonsense about skin cancer is all a liberal conspiracy just like global warming). In the meantime, I have been obsessively listening and finding new music due to my lack of cable television and inability to move (so soar from walking). I am going to have one heck of a walk soundtrack to my morning stroll to WORK.
Even with all the fun I have been having in my first few weeks in a new city, I am pleasantly surprised how productive I have managed to stay. Who knew I could function so well on less sleep and more booze. (no worries parents, I will take better care of my liver in the coming weeks). I had an interview today with a cool company, and I think it went well. I didn't break out in hives, or get that big lump in my throat or fart so those are all good signs that I didn't totally blow it. I did have the overwhelming feeling that someone was taking a hammer to my frontal lobe (damn Ketel One party) but other than that I managed to put my best front on of professional, aspiring editorial assistant. I even wore my black rimmed glasses to really drive it home (left the pencil out of my hair though). Fingers crossed.
Spa job starts tomorrow which will consist of me following my fabulous gay boss around and me trying to find out if I get any free perks as an employee (tanning maybe? I hear all that nonsense about skin cancer is all a liberal conspiracy just like global warming). In the meantime, I have been obsessively listening and finding new music due to my lack of cable television and inability to move (so soar from walking). I am going to have one heck of a walk soundtrack to my morning stroll to WORK.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Quick note
I added a few more tracks to my playlist including a great song by The Dodos which they played at the show. I also have my first visitor on the West Coast about to arrive. Woot woot! Deanna travels a lot for work and just happens to be in the bay area for the next two days so I get to have a little slice of ATL with me for a few. Ridiculous stories and happenings to ensue I am sure.
Single White Female
The transition from weary traveler with a caffeine addiction to single in the city with an even more alarming caffeine addiction has been pretty seamless. Week 1 of my crusade through the bay area has been down right fabulous from job prospecting to urban hikes to crazy night life to date nights to free concerts...I couldn't ask for more. With all these fun happenings I have had some moments of processing... processing my new status as a single adult. As the government census lady said to me yesterday, "you are a single, white female. correct?" "Yes, last time I checked". On a few occasions this week I have found myself contemplating the idea behind companionship, and I have come to a conclusion (that is for myself, the rest of you can fend for yourselves). I thrive off companionship, I like being able to have someone to share experiences with and tell the mundane details of my life to. I like having someone to call, come home to and tell the latest dirty joke to. But with that said, I think companions can come in different forms (ideally a hunky, intellectual male with a great sense of humor but I digress). My steadfast companion is of course my loving dog who has been through it all with me, lived in over 5 states with me and shares almost all my meals with me. My second companion is my ipod which I take pride in and enjoy fostering an intimate relationship with. The third is what I will refer to as a temporary companion, i.e. foreign roommate, man I met on the bus, downstairs neighbor, crazy bag lady. All of these have become a great companion at some time or another in my first week in this incredibly windy, incredibly vibrant city.
On Friday as I walked through the Mission on my way back from picking up a package (new cheap camera that I ordered), I saw an old theater called The Victorian with their marquis letters reading "The Dodos tomorrow @ 4". How coincidental that the band I listened to the most on my way out here was performing a few blocks from my front stoop! I immediately took note and did some recon work when I got into my apartment. How much? Were the tickets sold out? Who would want to go with me? Ends up, the tickets were free if you picked them up at this coffee shop called Four Barrels (amazing place, old record player humming hipster tunes and french presses galore). I mosied my way to cool Valencia St. to pick up said tickets on Saturday morning and grabbed an ice coffee for my troubles. The guy asked how many I wanted and without even thinking, I responded "three please". Errr OK, I barely know three people in the city but why the hell not, it sounded good coming out of my mouth. As I walked back home I made a few calls to the three people I did know and all were busy doing other more important things. Damn. On a long shot I asked my only roommate who was home, the Swiss one, if she wanted to check out a cool band. In her broken, beautiful English she said "Yes, that would be nice." We went to the show, the venue was giving out free coffee (I swear this must have been at least my 5th or 6th for the day) and donuts. The Dodos were apparently putting on the show to practice their new material before their official tour and they are from San Francisco (I didn't know that). It was great, their setup is unique and their sound is even better. 3 instruments; acoustic guitar, drum kit minus the base drum (drummer attaches a tambourine to his right foot) and a zibraphone. The drummer is front in center and definitely the focal point of the music. They joked with the crowd (consisting of extremely well dressed, vintage clad cool kids), took requests which was awesome and thanked the crowd for coming out in the middle of a beautiful day. My roommate and I then spent the next few hours sipping Chimay on an outside bar patio on Valencia St., smoking European rolled cigs and talking about how we both had landed in this very spot. When I asked if she had a boyfriend she said no, but said she was open to a "love affair". I love the way Europeans speak about love. Us Americans sounds so crass and low class when we talk about stuff like that ("oh my god Becky, I totally hooked up with this guy last night"). The conversation was great and we had a windy walk home.
As far as my other temporary companions, the man I met on the bus took me out to a great dinner at a swanky spot in the mission called Bar Tartine where we shared a bottle of great wine, and I ventured into a food territory I never thought I would go. Bone marrow spread on a warm baguette for the appetizer and hog jowl for the main. I only really ordered it so that I constantly had an excuse to say jowl throughout the meal.
I shared what was meant to be a solo cinco de mayo with my downstairs neighbor, we drank tecate and took a few tequila shots and talked about how much we loved the city. We hung outside in our back patio while our dogs pretended to ignore each other while occasionally sharing a scowl across the lawn. He seems like a good person to know in the city and I have shamelessly asked him to find me a room in this building so I don't have to move.
I shared a hilarious and eventful walk with the crazy bag lady on my block. She proceeded to tell me her whole life story as I walked Ella around the neighborhood. I couldn't shake this woman for the life of me so I eventually just gave in and hung out with her for over an hour. She actually made me laugh a few times and recommended a good food joint up the street. I walked away glad she chose me to bother.
Did I just say hunky in this post? haha I guess i'm bringing back the 90's, save by the bell era lingo.
On Friday as I walked through the Mission on my way back from picking up a package (new cheap camera that I ordered), I saw an old theater called The Victorian with their marquis letters reading "The Dodos tomorrow @ 4". How coincidental that the band I listened to the most on my way out here was performing a few blocks from my front stoop! I immediately took note and did some recon work when I got into my apartment. How much? Were the tickets sold out? Who would want to go with me? Ends up, the tickets were free if you picked them up at this coffee shop called Four Barrels (amazing place, old record player humming hipster tunes and french presses galore). I mosied my way to cool Valencia St. to pick up said tickets on Saturday morning and grabbed an ice coffee for my troubles. The guy asked how many I wanted and without even thinking, I responded "three please". Errr OK, I barely know three people in the city but why the hell not, it sounded good coming out of my mouth. As I walked back home I made a few calls to the three people I did know and all were busy doing other more important things. Damn. On a long shot I asked my only roommate who was home, the Swiss one, if she wanted to check out a cool band. In her broken, beautiful English she said "Yes, that would be nice." We went to the show, the venue was giving out free coffee (I swear this must have been at least my 5th or 6th for the day) and donuts. The Dodos were apparently putting on the show to practice their new material before their official tour and they are from San Francisco (I didn't know that). It was great, their setup is unique and their sound is even better. 3 instruments; acoustic guitar, drum kit minus the base drum (drummer attaches a tambourine to his right foot) and a zibraphone. The drummer is front in center and definitely the focal point of the music. They joked with the crowd (consisting of extremely well dressed, vintage clad cool kids), took requests which was awesome and thanked the crowd for coming out in the middle of a beautiful day. My roommate and I then spent the next few hours sipping Chimay on an outside bar patio on Valencia St., smoking European rolled cigs and talking about how we both had landed in this very spot. When I asked if she had a boyfriend she said no, but said she was open to a "love affair". I love the way Europeans speak about love. Us Americans sounds so crass and low class when we talk about stuff like that ("oh my god Becky, I totally hooked up with this guy last night"). The conversation was great and we had a windy walk home.
As far as my other temporary companions, the man I met on the bus took me out to a great dinner at a swanky spot in the mission called Bar Tartine where we shared a bottle of great wine, and I ventured into a food territory I never thought I would go. Bone marrow spread on a warm baguette for the appetizer and hog jowl for the main. I only really ordered it so that I constantly had an excuse to say jowl throughout the meal.
I shared what was meant to be a solo cinco de mayo with my downstairs neighbor, we drank tecate and took a few tequila shots and talked about how much we loved the city. We hung outside in our back patio while our dogs pretended to ignore each other while occasionally sharing a scowl across the lawn. He seems like a good person to know in the city and I have shamelessly asked him to find me a room in this building so I don't have to move.
I shared a hilarious and eventful walk with the crazy bag lady on my block. She proceeded to tell me her whole life story as I walked Ella around the neighborhood. I couldn't shake this woman for the life of me so I eventually just gave in and hung out with her for over an hour. She actually made me laugh a few times and recommended a good food joint up the street. I walked away glad she chose me to bother.
Did I just say hunky in this post? haha I guess i'm bringing back the 90's, save by the bell era lingo.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Life will always bring you back down
With my fabulously coincidental and remarkable first 2 days here, I was bound to have a somewhat not so exciting, less cool day. Today was that day.
I was pretty jazzed this morning with all the good luck that had been coming my way, "gosh, it's only Wednesday of my first week and I have two interviews lined up", quickly turned into "oh well, you can't win em all..." As I checked my e-mail this a.m. to make sure I didn't have any other news coming my way, I came across an e-mail from the employer of my second interview..."sorry but the position you are coming into interview for has already been filled. We apologize." Greeeaattt. And that was the interview I actually wanted to go to. The other one was some property management/HOA type of company and they had warned me that there might be an evaluation, ummm k. After I walked 2 miles in the GHETTO (my first un-scenic walk since I have arrived), I showed up to be immediately told that I had 45 minutes to complete a test, 2 pages of MATH problems (AHHHH don't these people know who they are dealing with?! I'm a journalism major, hello?) and one page of essay questions and internet research, what jerks. Although I seriously thought of pretending to use the restroom and bolting out of there, I instead put my tail between my legs and proceeded to do MATH. Actually, I think I surprised myself but then I again I don't know if I actually got any right, I just thought I may have (possibly, probably not).
Needless to say, today was not the day I was expecting but it's all good in the hood because these are the days that make me appreciate the extraordinary ones. I spent the rest of the afternoon grocery shopping (wine please!) and applying to numerous jobs. We shall see what Thursday brings.
Oh almost forgot. Tuesday night was a blast, went to meet up with my bus route friend and ended up having a lot of fun. We ended up at a famous dive bar called Zeitgeist where there was an outdoor beer garden full of bikers, hipsters, scenesters and the rest who were trying to be of the above mentioned crowds. The guy, very sweet and fun, ended up being from Boston and working at one of Charity's local hang outs in JP called The Milky Way, weird right? Also, the night before he apparently had a SF coincidental happening where he ran into an old friend of his from Australia who was only in town for a few nights and they happen to run into one another on the street, neither one knew the other was here. Crazy stuff, and that guy ended up coming out with us and was extremely nice and the six degrees of seperation don't stop. The Australian used to date a girl who went to Clemson of all places, and he knew a ton about Clemson and loved it there! Very strange stuff I tell ya, very strange.
Cinco De Mayo - Christina is too hungover from the night before to come hang out with me at my apartment, looks like it's me and Ella and bottle of wine tonight. Mad love blogworld.
I was pretty jazzed this morning with all the good luck that had been coming my way, "gosh, it's only Wednesday of my first week and I have two interviews lined up", quickly turned into "oh well, you can't win em all..." As I checked my e-mail this a.m. to make sure I didn't have any other news coming my way, I came across an e-mail from the employer of my second interview..."sorry but the position you are coming into interview for has already been filled. We apologize." Greeeaattt. And that was the interview I actually wanted to go to. The other one was some property management/HOA type of company and they had warned me that there might be an evaluation, ummm k. After I walked 2 miles in the GHETTO (my first un-scenic walk since I have arrived), I showed up to be immediately told that I had 45 minutes to complete a test, 2 pages of MATH problems (AHHHH don't these people know who they are dealing with?! I'm a journalism major, hello?) and one page of essay questions and internet research, what jerks. Although I seriously thought of pretending to use the restroom and bolting out of there, I instead put my tail between my legs and proceeded to do MATH. Actually, I think I surprised myself but then I again I don't know if I actually got any right, I just thought I may have (possibly, probably not).
Needless to say, today was not the day I was expecting but it's all good in the hood because these are the days that make me appreciate the extraordinary ones. I spent the rest of the afternoon grocery shopping (wine please!) and applying to numerous jobs. We shall see what Thursday brings.
Oh almost forgot. Tuesday night was a blast, went to meet up with my bus route friend and ended up having a lot of fun. We ended up at a famous dive bar called Zeitgeist where there was an outdoor beer garden full of bikers, hipsters, scenesters and the rest who were trying to be of the above mentioned crowds. The guy, very sweet and fun, ended up being from Boston and working at one of Charity's local hang outs in JP called The Milky Way, weird right? Also, the night before he apparently had a SF coincidental happening where he ran into an old friend of his from Australia who was only in town for a few nights and they happen to run into one another on the street, neither one knew the other was here. Crazy stuff, and that guy ended up coming out with us and was extremely nice and the six degrees of seperation don't stop. The Australian used to date a girl who went to Clemson of all places, and he knew a ton about Clemson and loved it there! Very strange stuff I tell ya, very strange.
Cinco De Mayo - Christina is too hungover from the night before to come hang out with me at my apartment, looks like it's me and Ella and bottle of wine tonight. Mad love blogworld.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Day I stopped counting
So I am officially here now so I guess it's wise to stop the whole counting thing, it might get a bit confusing (I suck at math). I love my place, I love my neighborhood (colorful, hip and a bit ghetto...right up my alley), and I am still in love with my dog. She has already settled in perfectly to our giant temporary room, known now in the house as little scruff (that translated well for both Japanese and Swiss apparently). The apartment is an old Victorian style place, insane molding in every corner, including young boys molded into my window sills (ummm K). My bay windows overlook Mission St. and Valencia, a very happening part of town, including Goood Frickin Chicken across the street which I of course hit up my first night here (name says it all) and a nail salon below ($7 manicure what what).
My first full day in SF was Sunday and boy was it a doozy. I spent the morning returning my fabulous whip of a rental car, almost shed a tear before I quickly remembered I had a strong hatred for it for 2 full days of the trip (Desert + Impala = bitchy, cranky Carissa) and said so long to journey and holla to life in the Bay area. I took Ella for what was meant to be a cute stroll up Bernal Hill until I realized that Bernal Hill was really a small mountain in the city and wearing flip flops and hot coffee in hand were not the approach to take to said mountain. Athletic shoes and water are definite necessities for this urban hike. I then continued my urban wanderings to far away North Beach where Christina was having a soiree of sorts (apparently Sunday Fundays are always in full effect here), where I walked another 2 + miles and finally showed up sweaty and dehydrated, adorable i'm sure. 30 odd people piled on to one roof top overlooking the most gorgeous view of the bay and golden gate bridge, can't get much better than that (oh wait, and she let me put on MY ipod so I got to be all uppity about music selections - thanks Rob for all the new jams).
After leaving swank rooftop gathering, I hit up a great Italian restaurant called E' tutte quoi (wrong spelling) where Maddelene worked (we met sailing) and I enjoyed one of the most ridiculous solo dining experiences to date. The Italian owner and his mafia quickly called me over to there table where they proceeded to force feed me pasta, red wine and olive oil, all while making me keep my fabulous hat on because "I looked so beautiful in it, like the 60's"(thick italian accent and over exaggerated hand gestures apply). So of course I ate, and of course I sat in a restaurant wearing a giant hat. Why not? After convincing them I had had enough and squirming my way out, I eventually made it on the bus home.
You probably thought that was the rest of the story but it goes on. I was confused as to which bus route was best so I asked the only other person waiting, he happened to look similar in age and harmless enough. We ended up going in the same direction and chatting the whole way there. He had just moved here 4 months ago from none other than Boston. Had a few laughs, exchanged numbers and off we went. What a first night. Rooftop bbq, authentic Italian mobsters, genuine interaction on public transportation, huh? I love you so far SF.
My first full day in SF was Sunday and boy was it a doozy. I spent the morning returning my fabulous whip of a rental car, almost shed a tear before I quickly remembered I had a strong hatred for it for 2 full days of the trip (Desert + Impala = bitchy, cranky Carissa) and said so long to journey and holla to life in the Bay area. I took Ella for what was meant to be a cute stroll up Bernal Hill until I realized that Bernal Hill was really a small mountain in the city and wearing flip flops and hot coffee in hand were not the approach to take to said mountain. Athletic shoes and water are definite necessities for this urban hike. I then continued my urban wanderings to far away North Beach where Christina was having a soiree of sorts (apparently Sunday Fundays are always in full effect here), where I walked another 2 + miles and finally showed up sweaty and dehydrated, adorable i'm sure. 30 odd people piled on to one roof top overlooking the most gorgeous view of the bay and golden gate bridge, can't get much better than that (oh wait, and she let me put on MY ipod so I got to be all uppity about music selections - thanks Rob for all the new jams).
After leaving swank rooftop gathering, I hit up a great Italian restaurant called E' tutte quoi (wrong spelling) where Maddelene worked (we met sailing) and I enjoyed one of the most ridiculous solo dining experiences to date. The Italian owner and his mafia quickly called me over to there table where they proceeded to force feed me pasta, red wine and olive oil, all while making me keep my fabulous hat on because "I looked so beautiful in it, like the 60's"(thick italian accent and over exaggerated hand gestures apply). So of course I ate, and of course I sat in a restaurant wearing a giant hat. Why not? After convincing them I had had enough and squirming my way out, I eventually made it on the bus home.
You probably thought that was the rest of the story but it goes on. I was confused as to which bus route was best so I asked the only other person waiting, he happened to look similar in age and harmless enough. We ended up going in the same direction and chatting the whole way there. He had just moved here 4 months ago from none other than Boston. Had a few laughs, exchanged numbers and off we went. What a first night. Rooftop bbq, authentic Italian mobsters, genuine interaction on public transportation, huh? I love you so far SF.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Pics
I uploaded a few pics of my new place. Flickr won't allow me anymore so I need to upgrade tomorrow. I will add a new post as well, thanks for reading : )
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Day 5 Continued
Way too much life went down on Day 5...must expound. After my sunset magical mystery tour of Big Sur, I finally pulled myself away from hours of stop and go sightseeing at atleast 10 turnoff sites and I pushed through to beautiful Pacific Grove (right next to Monterey). My earlier post mentioned the idea of old and new friends, this is where the new ones come into the story. After a quick chat to a somewhat new friend already in San Francisco about how I was worried my arrival in SF would be rushed and possibly too late, resulted in an immediate connection to an old friend of theirs, "My buddy lives in Monterey, I will give him a call, it's Capers good friend too". Ummm OK, sure why not...what's one more night out on the road?
I arrived to meet quite possibly the two nicest people I have ever met. Genuinely nice. Not even obnoxiously so. They made me feel welcome, they asked interesting questions and they provided a great ending to the greatest day. Mexican food was yet again consumed, although I will have to admit this was much better than Houston Mexican (sorry Squirt). After debating on whether or not we wanted to go out to a beach party (too damn cold for that), we ultimately decided to get a bottle of wine and chill with their guinea pigs at their home (Yup, you heard me right, GUINEA PIGS). Isn't that the most hilarious throw back to child hood pets? I never hear of anyone owning guinea pigs anymore! Well, it's a shame because apparently they are awesome. Fluffy and Fatty (best names ever and of course fitting) offered more jokes and entertainment than Tivo on a Thursday night. We stayed up late and talked and eventually my eyes won the battle...must sleep now. Air mattress, way comfy and fun to watch inflate : )
I arrived to meet quite possibly the two nicest people I have ever met. Genuinely nice. Not even obnoxiously so. They made me feel welcome, they asked interesting questions and they provided a great ending to the greatest day. Mexican food was yet again consumed, although I will have to admit this was much better than Houston Mexican (sorry Squirt). After debating on whether or not we wanted to go out to a beach party (too damn cold for that), we ultimately decided to get a bottle of wine and chill with their guinea pigs at their home (Yup, you heard me right, GUINEA PIGS). Isn't that the most hilarious throw back to child hood pets? I never hear of anyone owning guinea pigs anymore! Well, it's a shame because apparently they are awesome. Fluffy and Fatty (best names ever and of course fitting) offered more jokes and entertainment than Tivo on a Thursday night. We stayed up late and talked and eventually my eyes won the battle...must sleep now. Air mattress, way comfy and fun to watch inflate : )
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Day 5
The best day I have ever had? Maybe. Alone on the road with my dog soulmate, music that moves me, and ocean cliffs that take your breath away. I couldn't have asked for a better setting to my dramatic and ridiculous departure from the East Coast, day 5 in the home stretch. The sun was always shining and the roads were perfectly populated, the Pacific Coast Highway is forever burned into my soul. With stops all the way up from Malibu, Paradise Cove, Renaldo State Park and Beach, and finally BIG SUR. Hands down, no competition, without a doubt, the most beautiful stretch of the Earth I have ever laid eyes on. I got stuck in a pretty sizeable traffic jam due to a man who had jack-knifed his car into the cliff (thank god he lived). As I waited outside with the rest of the voyeurs trying to sneak a peak at the carnage, I realized that I was secretly hoping it would take hours so that I had an excuse to be there. Be there...I can't even explain there. Its a must see of epic proportions (and I hate when people say epic anything).
Now, I know that thousands of tourists drive this road everyday but mine still felt unique, it felt romantic. I understand the cliche that is this "road trip" across the country to pursue a new life in San Francisco...but with that said, I never claimed to be the first but I will claim that I probably got the most out of it. I didn't drive straight through like a badass, I didn't stay in hotels every night and watch HBO, I didn't sleep in a VW Van and smoke hash. No, I drove a route that helped me reconnect. Reconnect to friends, both old and new, and reconnect to myself. It is amazing what being alone and vulnerable can make you see. Where have I been for the past 2 years? I certainly wasn't living life as me, just what I thought I should be.
Now, I know that thousands of tourists drive this road everyday but mine still felt unique, it felt romantic. I understand the cliche that is this "road trip" across the country to pursue a new life in San Francisco...but with that said, I never claimed to be the first but I will claim that I probably got the most out of it. I didn't drive straight through like a badass, I didn't stay in hotels every night and watch HBO, I didn't sleep in a VW Van and smoke hash. No, I drove a route that helped me reconnect. Reconnect to friends, both old and new, and reconnect to myself. It is amazing what being alone and vulnerable can make you see. Where have I been for the past 2 years? I certainly wasn't living life as me, just what I thought I should be.
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