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The other day

27 Oct

I was at work, doin’ my thing. I get pretty involved in whatever task I may be working on… and I was interupted by an old man, who needed some help finding an item in our store. After I had helped him hunt down a cat carrier for a bottle of wine shaped like a cat, he said he had a theory about life, and he thought I encompassed it. He handed me a card that read:

“Those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.” – James Tuoto

Pic via Danger mcJANE.

That’s a true story.



17 Oct

Today was such a beautiful day. I decided to read in the park by my house. I took my camera along.


Alamo Square Park. Beatiful Sky.

Willow-esque tree.

Book with perfect branch book mark.

Shoe garden in the park. Quintessential San Francisco.

View from the park.

Most popular view from the park.

Less popular view from the park.

I’m a year older now.

6 Oct

My birthday was this past weekend. I’m now 23.

This is my fortune from a cookie I got after dining at Mongolian BBQ:

A chance meeting with a stranger may soon change your life.

And my Tarot Year is a 6 – which is the Lovers Year.

I’m sensing a theme here.

I better be in love by this time next year.


21 Sep

I’ve finished David Eggers’ book, Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius. Towards the latter half of the book, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. Then it got interesting again – and then he called us all motherfuckers and then it was over. So, at the end, I was kind of like, “really?” The whole thing made me think about people, family, relationships – so in that way it was good. I’m actually not too sure if I feel much different about it than I did on page 176. If I were to say anything else, I would be repeating myself. I’m glad I read it though. Some people (I don’t like) now make a little more sense to me.

Now I’m onto Richard Brautigan. I’m reading a collection of 3 of his books: Revenge of the Lawn, The Abortion and So the Wind Won’t Blow It All Away. So far, I’m loving it. This man is so very interesting. I want to know more about him. His stories are pretty light and funny – but it feels like he is trying to say something deeper. So it makes me think – which I really like.

Talking just about books can be boring.

Sidewalks in SF are perfect.  Sometimes, if I’m thinking about it, I try not to step on the cracks in the cement. In the suburbs, the slabs of sidewalks are about a step and a half, so you really have to try not to step on the seam. Here though, they are just a step apart – so if you step in the middle of the slab – you never have to worry about stepping on a crack which means you NEVER have to worry about breaking your mother’s back.

pic via

today was touch, yesterday was go.

4 Aug

It’s been an adjustment… moving into a new place, with new people. Mostly, leaving behind the old is the hardest. Leaving Oakland felt (still feels) sacreligious. However, I must say, I do love my new neighborhood. Everything is so close… and there’s life at all hours. I did realize today, as I walked around, that there are SO many people in this city. It’s one thing to see a gathering of people at a specific location (resteraunt, park, theater), but seeing gatherings of people not interested in one activity feels so different. There are so many people in one spot, but they are all actively doing something unrelated to one another.

night number one in SF

1 Aug

Warning: I wrote a journal entry… sorry.

I’m here… it was quite a day, but I’ve made the leap! I now rest my head in a big ol’ city, in a big ol’ Victorian. The ceilings in my room are high, and there are boxes stacked everywhere… it’s kind of like I’m living in a small nook, between the blocks of a Jenga game.

My only complaint, thus far, is the bathroom. It is tiny. When you sit on the toilet, you can rest your chin on the sink. It’s something else. I’m used to so much room, so this is definitely an adjustment.

I walked around the neighborhood a bit, after taking half an hour to find a parking spot. I like my surroundings. Lots of people and things to look at.

I have to work tomorrow at 7 am. AND – I don’t have to leave an hour and half early to get there either! Holla!

why are we (I) so afraid to be alone?

23 Jul

The only time in my life (that I can recall) where I have ever physically been alone was in Alexandra, Victoria, Australia. A part of the “experiential learning” program I did as a semester abroad involved a weekend stay in a remote town at least 2 hours away from the city (Melbourne) and the comforts of known faces (home-stay families) and Americans (other students in the program). I received the name of a town and a bus ticket from the program director… the rest was up to me. I booked a room for two nights at the Shamrock Hotel and Pub, and loaded myself onto an empty bus headed North East.  I listened to the Pixies on the way there and arrived in Alexandra (population 2,000) with big hair, a rolling suitcase and a poka-dot cardigan.

There was little to do there. Apparently, it’s kind of a stop off between the mountains and the city, though at that time of year, I seemed to be in the company of only locals. I walked through the swinging wooden doors of the tavern I was staying in and was greeted by the eyes of about a dozen confused, on-the-way-to-waisted, individuals who all appeared to know one another. Crickets were chirping in the background – for two solid minutes that’s all I could hear. Trev, the owner/bartender/ hotelier passed a “G’day” my way and Bev showed me my room. I put my suitcase on the twin bed and went downstairs to sit in a corner table and drink a beer. No one approached me, and I sure as hell didn’t approach any of them. After a few glasses of some ale, I returned to my room, where I waited for the weekend to be over.

I was alone. I wasn’t miserable. But I was bored. I attempted to make a time line for my semester studies, I played a lot of spider solitaire and I walked aimlessly around the one block of town. I returned to life with not much to report and was told to try to look at the lack of activity as something in of itself (Australians don’t make friends easily, are weary of strangers, cultural differences…). This was hard to do, given that 4 of the other American girls in the group had stories of gallivanting through the woods with burly Aussie men, drinking with a pack of surfers and hooking up with a sailor from New South Wales. Of course, they were all skinny, trendy and conventionally “American” – so their cultural experience was totally different (on many levels, this jut being a prime example of exactly the kind of Americans I was dealing with over there. This is not to say that a few of the Americans in the group ended up being some of my closest friends – they were not however the ones having drugged out orgies with Aussies).

I’m thinking of all of this because I am embarking on journey in about a week and half, and I am preparing to be alone. Of course, I won’t be physically alone very much. I will be living with people I don’t know too well, in an apartment with no common space, surrounded by a city I know only sort of. I’m nervous I will be lonely. I keep reminding myself that I have done so many things completey alone and always loved them. The things that I’ve done independently have always turned out to be amazing and have bettered me and my life. I only hope that this step follows the upward trend. We shall see.