March 3, 2006

Drinkin’ alone on a Friday

Ladeling up myself a bowl of home-made white bean stew, dressing it with marinated tomatoes and goat cheese and pouring myself a glass of wine, I think to myself - gee, I sure am getting good at being a loner. Though I have a vague sense of responsibility to make the most of Friday night and go out for some dancing, it seems equally pleasurable to lay on the couch with the coffee table shoved up to the edge of it, stretched out on some fleece, sipping my cheap wine (Mad Dogs) and reading Cormac McCarthy. (more…)

February 18, 2006

Single Digits

The cold weather timed itself perfectly for my California Buddy who came out to see what this cold weather was all about. He was heard saying, on Wednesday Evening, in response to me wearing a coat, hat, gloves and a scarf at the airport, “What do you have all that stuff on for? It’s not COLD out!”

Well, Mr. California, how do you like them temperatures huh? I even had to loan him a neck warmer. Hah!

February 13, 2006

Evidence That I’m Being Spied On

I think the Dictionary.com people have a camera trained on my abode. Else how would they know I needed a NEW term for this condition? (more…)

February 7, 2006

The Calculus of Struggle

A good friend of mine teaches Calculus at the University of Chicago. Over brunch this week-end I told him, “I sometimes wonder if I should take more advantage of the fact that you teach math, considering how much help I need with it. I really should be exploiting that part of our friendship you know.” I was half joking, but only half. (more…)

January 29, 2006

Confessions

I was entertained by a commercial today and laughed at it.
I cry everytime I watch Gray’s Anatomy.
I’ve cut down on my drinking because I blacked out too many times last year.
I play sad music when I’m sad to make myself sadder.
I dance when I play harmonica.
I’m convinced that I’ll kill myself before I ever end up bed-ridden.
I have a hard time finishing books because I never want them to end.

January 25, 2006

From Rehnquist to Suicide Girls in 3/5ths of a Second

The problem with the internet is that you can end up 180 degrees away from your focus in one click. Here I am, searching for possible transcripts of the Rehnquist confirmation hearings, or perhaps some old coverage of the event and instead I end up at the blog entry of a suicide girl commenting on Scalia and Halloween hijinks at the high court. (more…)

January 13, 2006

That’s the Chicago I Remember

It has been unseasonably warm since I returned to Chicago. I went for an hour-long bike ride and had to wear sunglasses yesterday. I wore flip-flops and a tank-top to the laundry-room, which is outside and down in the basement. This morning I awoke to the soft swish of rain, but by 11:30 the rain drops began to coagulate into large fluffy gobs of snow which floated down and then melted on the wet sidewalk. All is not perfect and white yet, but this is definitely the chicago I remember, with lows in the mid twenties.

December 27, 2005

Scripting

Want to sleep but can’t. Want to read, but words on the page are drowned out by words in my head. Put the book down to rest on my chest with the light still on, close my eyes for a second. For a minute, drift off, brain doing that fantasy dream thing. (more…)

December 25, 2005

Touristing in San Francisco

I am so used to leaving things behind that it seems counterintuitive that I should have driven away from California so ceremoniously last June only to return in winter on an airplane. It’s anti-climactic, this reunion. What I should have done was to go live a life in another country for ten years, and then return, a different woman, having lived a whole new life. Returning to old places and people and finding them largely unchanged almost never happens. I have wandered like a ghost though the towns of my former lives, Sun Valley, Sedona, Red Bluff, Andover… the memories layering themselves before me as I ride through the familiar landscape that are slightly altered. As I tourist my way through San Francisco, I look upon it as I did many of the towns I visited this summer… sizing it up, cataloguing trends I notice, categorizing in one of two columns: cities I could live in, cities I’m happy to pass through and leave behind. This one remains in limbo and for now is one that is nice to visit.

San Francisco has a few characteristics that jump out at me: the comic colors of victorian houses, pink, greens and purples, the relative abundance of well-kept Volkswagon buses and Vanagons parked in driveways, red leaves on trees still on the longest night of the year. The air is moist and cool and makes my hair spring up and frizz out. Jogging through town I have to remove my top layer after a few minutes, but the subtle humidity seems to make it harder to breathe, slowing me down. I jog past small groups of mexicans and central americans huddled on street corners, not doing much of anything- just standing around, maybe waiting for someone to pick them up and offer them labor for the day. The white boys of the mission have all dyed their hair black and wear tight 70s jeans with wallet chains and black boots, their quirky and culturally inappropriate t-shirts tight across their scrawny chests. The girls in the platform boots and printed skirts and jean jackets, hair piled high and stabbed with a pencil wander in and out of cafes, looking beautiful, ordering coffee, scrunching up their eyebrows as they read the news on their wireless internet connection. No one has to spend a few minutes taking off coats, scarves, gloves and hats when they walk into a San Francisco Cafe, as the temperature inside nearly matches outside. For my taste, the outside weather is quite pleasant, but it’s too cold inside. Chicago knows how to heat buildings, but San Francisco never figured that out, and every apartment I stay in does not invite me to pad around barefoot in my pyjamas. I find myself layering on the socks and sweaters, which I rarely have to do in the tropics of my Chicago hideout. But I walk to my hairdresser’s in the rain wearing only a light sweatshirt and not caring that I arrive soaked. It’s a lovely day despite the rain.

The relative proximity of all things cool in San Francisco is also a marked contrast from the rest of the nation, Manhattan being the only exception. This was something I was aware of during my 19 year tenure here, but it’s remarkable how from the house of my host, I easily walk to my hairdresser’s, my favorite old cafés (Atlas on 20th and Alabama, and the Revolution Cafe on 23rd and Bartlett), my favorite new Cafe (Ritual on Valencia and 21st), the climbing gym, Tony’s House, Eman’s house, a multitude of markets and grocery stores, innumerable bars and shops. Having a car in a city like this is more often a liability, though Miss Michelle did loan me her car for a day or two do drag a few things out of storage. I took the opportunity to visit friends and family across town, but was happy to be rid of the car and the risks of parking tickets and accidents.

While in San Francisco, everyone has a list of places they want to see, and so for the coming days I’ll be filling in that list with old haunts and landmarks I never made it to as an inhabitant.

December 19, 2005

Slouching Towards California

Air travel, which once was dreamed of by humans confined to land, which was a fantasy of the future - clean lines, perfect compact berths, the powerful whirring of jets, which has revolutionized the way we live and work, is only a dreaded inevitability of travel. (more…)