Male Interaction Horror Story, Installment #1

Being a single, young, female, I have a few (well maybe more than a few...we're not getting into this now) interactions with the opposite sex. They generally tend to happen A) at work, B) at a bar or C) at a show. Generally these interactions are not notable, interesting or worth writing about. But every once and awhile, there are horror stories that are too good to pass up.

Saturday night, I meet my friends at an old hangout. And when I say old, I mean old, I have not been to this place since it got a paint job type of old. I had just come from work so a tasty beer was needed for some corporate coffee decompression time. My friends, being the people they are, were already drunk, and I, in need of some catching up. We meet, we drink and we decide that the old hangout was a hangout, and not a favorite, for a reason and head right across the street (Oh I love the Mission) to an old favorite. At said old favorite, we get our drinks and head to the pool tables to hang out and see if we can snag a table. In the time it takes to usurp a table, I 1) run into one of my friends who I never see, but run into at the most random places (grocery store, old favorite bar, the 22, etc) 2) pee out all the beer I just drank and 3) meet some random dude.

Let me just say, this dude had interesting taste, which is why I talked to him. Our conversation started like this:

Me: Dude!! Awesome shirt, I heard those guys on Killed by Death #5
Him: What?? You know about KBD and the Stalin?
Me: Um, yeah why else would I be commenting on your shirt?
Him: Rad! What's your number?
Me: Why the hell not?

So I give him my number and he goes on his merry way, a few minutes later he started texting me from INSIDE THE BAR! Really, has our modern state of communication devolved so much that strangers can no longer talk in a bar, they have to TEXT to avoid what the fuck ever they want to avoid?? Really, it HAS come to this.

So I run into him again in the bar and we start talking, like with words and dialogue, like real talking. And he tells me he doesn't live in the city and is going through a really bad breakup.

Great, you have good taste in music, that's all I really wanted to talk to you about. That and if you see someone wearing a Stalin shirt, the band, not the dictator, you just talk to them, it's the law, seriously.

Blah, blah, blah, bad breakup, records, drinks, by this time it's almost 2 and my friends are tired and leaving, I'm feeling the same, it would be nice to get some bad alcohol induced sleep, but, no, me being the drunk Johnny-genius that I am decide that I want a burrito and I WANT IT NOW!

I proceed to get said burrito all the while dude is texting me about what not so I go to meet up with him and hang out. I grab some water, polish off burrito and am on a mission to sober up and beat the coming hangover! So water in hand I meet up with him and we walk around Valencia just talking...and when I say just talking, it was him, just talking. About his breakup, about what caused it, about this girl and how painful it is, about how much of a piece of shit he is AND about his sex life and how his failure to launch at pivotal moments...and then he asks me to make out with him.

I tell him I'm going home, alone, and sleeping, and good luck finding his friend's place.

But I did beat my hangover!

Ridin' the Wiggle

Just getting home, post wiggle

The day before I moved to San Francisco I totaled my car. It was one of the most weirdly serendipitous moments of my entire life. Literally the day before I moved I totaled my car on a technicality. It was one of the best things that could have happened. There was no way I would be moving up here with a car, parking in my area is ridiculous and I'm not an aggressive enough driver to even dream of driving in this city. Also, I can't parallel park and that's an essential tool to San Francisco car survival.

That being said, I did the most logical thing I could; I got a bike. My first bike was a complete beater, I would only ride it to work and back. It was rusty and made weird noises, finally, only after having a bike obsessed friend look at it, did I decide to get a better one. Oh hell did I ever get a good one. I went to a small shop, refried cycles (http://www.refriedcycles.com/), and got my new main means of transportation. I got myself an awesome little road bike, It's cute, it's small and I love it; I'm just now starting to get used to biking around the city.

Now to get the point.

Today for the first time, I rode nearly the entire wiggle! The wiggle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wiggle) for those who don't know is route that takes cyclists from Market Street all the way to Golden Gate Park/Sunset/Richmond area AND stays nearly flat. The lower Haight area has some gnarly hills and by taking the wiggle cyclists stay on flat ground the entire route. It's a route that nearly everyone who bikes knows and uses and today is so rad because for the first time today I did the entire wiggle! And it was awesome. It's a fun ride that's full of other cyclists and well, it gets you where you need to go.

Today marks one of my cycling milestones, totally lame I know, but for me, I'm pretty psyched about it.

Dia de los Muertos

Photo of an offeranda in a flower shop, quite possibly one of the most beautiful offerandas I saw tonight.

Tonight a good friend and I went to the Dia de los Muertos parade. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I don't think I was totally impressed. For years I've wanted to make it out to the event and I finally did and I think my fatal flaw was that I went with expectations that were way too high. I think I was hoping to see what I experienced in South America, but we can't always get what we want. High expectations will be the downfall for everything, or at least in my experiences, that seems to be the case.

That being said, for what it was, the parade was really fun. Now that I know, if I had gone in costume and ready to participate I would have had a much better time. Events such as this one are a lot of fun to watch, but what really makes the night is participation. Feeling like you are a part of something; that is what I was lacking. I was lacking what brought everyone together, and in that sense, I made myself a spectator and not a participant. (which I really don't like)

I would go again, but I would for sure go in costume and go with people who are also dressed up, I would treat it as a party. Maybe that's what I wanted, more art less party. Now that I know what to expect, next year will be better.

Also, hopefully next year I'll be feeling at least 85%, I think I got up to 75% tonight. Sometimes that 75% does not take you too far.

Beautiful Days

"The sun is up, the world is flat
Damn good address for a rat"
-Tom Waits Hoist That Rag, Real Gone

Really, I should be out enjoying this sun because it's starting to get colder and soon enough, I won't be able to. But, my day has been Tom Waits, homework and a bit of guitar.

Time to take advantage of the day.

A Brief Reintroduction:

I started this blog a year or two ago and wanted to base it solely around travel. I love to travel, it's what I do, it's in my blood. Wanderlust (and music!...and books!...maybe school) is what drives almost everything I do, all my thoughts, all my actions, really, a lot of my life. That being said, I blogged my way through Peru and had grandiose intentions of focusing everything towards travel.

But, as with every other endeavor I try to take on, life got in the way.

There were classes, and papers, grades and suddenly...a degree! Granted, a useless degree, but a degree nonetheless. When I got that fancy, embossed piece of paper with my name on it, I decided things needed to change. I couldn't sit at my parent's house forever taking classes here and there, gallivanting around the world (and maybe even a little bit in the country)

So I decided to change things. I filled out many applications, I got accepted a few places and I chose the university in one of the coolest cities in the world, San Francisco. It helped that San Francisco was really a stone's throw away from where I was living and thinking that I've lived my life in the bay area I thought it would be really easy and probably the best choice.

Not so much.

From the time I got accepted to the time I finally moved, quite a few things happened. One of my best and closest friends moved back to Seattle, another person who I spent a lot of time with moved to Colorado, I started working for a company don't morally agree with or even like (but the health insurance and flexible schedule ROCK), I took a few road trips to the Pacific Northwest, my might as well be older sister and her might as well be husband moved to Portland, I crashed my car and, well, moved to a city where I barely knew anyone.

Finally getting off my ass and getting motivated and really starting life has been one of the biggest challenges ever, and even though I've lived here since May. (Really May?!?!? It does not seem like that long AT ALL!) I think I'm finally starting to find my gravity (and hopefully my balance) and embrace this tiny, big city I now call home. And that's where this blog comes in, I'm hoping to track my trials and tribulations, discoveries and faux-pas, all the things that make up life all while I try to figure out why the fuck I'd ever move to this city in the first place!

Because I'm drunk

A peek into my Livejournal where I post my poetry and innermost thoughts...whatever.

Forgive me for I am drunk and not sure how I am typing all this

He talks into my he ear
he stars into her
bony hips, silicone hips,
and dreams of
beer lubricated thighs
spreading open to reveal
the goddess inside and
all he can say is how
he is drunk and wishing for
her perfect body and
imperfect mind to take
him home and
caress him in love and
how I get home thinking
of lines I wrote months ago
waiting to put them to
paper mulling over them
"from cities of ashes
we will rise again to
create a city all our own"
like the phoenix rising
like the hangover looming
like the dawn of tomorrow
coming too soon, broken promises,
all I concentrate on is
my open mouth
waiting to be kissed and
her silicone lips
receiving.



and a word to the wise, the most recent Ratatat album is amazing.

New Year, finally.

I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything, but times have been intense to say the least. The last couple of months of 08' have brought me into 09' trying to take everything day by day. I wanted to go into 09' with a fresh start, the mental change that is supposed to come with a new year, but it seems as though that is not going to happen...I take it back, it might be able to happen in a little bit, things are starting to calm down and go back to where I feel as though I can just be.

After my friend's suicide in November, it seems that my world has been shaken up and the pieces are finally starting to fit back together. For months things have been layered on top of each other until it looked like there was no way out, but now I think I can start again. Tomorrow is my first day off in 11 days, 11 days at Starbucks is draining. I'm sorry if I snap at anyone today, 11 days straight at a place like Starbucks will make anyone lose at least a few of their marbles. My father is getting better, his surgery had my mother and I worried, but finally he is recovering and getting better.

With all that being said, it's time to move on to the obligatory new year's resolutions. Mine are fairly simple this year, I want to write more and I want to treat myself better. What I mean by better is to not be so hard on myself and not get too caught up in things I can't control. I've fought with that many times over the past few years and I think it's time to just let go. Once I do that, I'm sure I will be a much happier less neurotic me.

Let's hope this goes well. Happy new year.