what’s the story

i hella (insert anything here) oakland

Though I think the white people blogs have thoroughly gone over (and over) the fact that Oakland rules, I thought I would do the same. While I’m no native (I might start claiming I’m “from” here, I haven’t decided yet), I do have much love for this town, my home of 5 years. Where ever I end up in August, it probably will not be here, and I have mixed feelings about it.

Oakland is so enormous… and there are so many secret places to be discovered. I recently found Lake Anza, up in the hills… which is so beautiful and perfect on a hot day.

I also started walking around my neighborhood and found so many fairy tale forests and a hat tree, which I love and spray painted gold. The weather is sunny and pretty much the same everyday (70s), and at night it cools down and crisp breezes float through the city carrying the scents of eucalyptus trees, fried food, oceans and cars. It’s unique. The architecture in this town is stunning… every little (or big) house is different and adorable (in one way or another). It’s a colorful city, I love it.

hard times.

This is how I’ve been feeling for the past couple of months:

If you cannot read it, it says “At A Crossroads: Between a Rock and My Parents’ Place.” It’s a book by Kate T. Williamson. I think I need to buy it.