Woodwork

My new favorite funny animal video.



O Nature, how you can be cruel.

A few weeks ago, I went out on a date with a guy who was looking for a casual sex kind of thing. Since I have a deadline for relationship lengths here in the city, and I'm not looking for anything serious anyway, I was intrigued and met up with him for a drink.

It was only a short date, over chocolate milk and a shared donut, nothing happened that would prove too scandalous for my ceramics friends to hear about, and we both came away from it agreeing, the next day, that there was a lot more of a friend vibe than a rip-each-others'-clothes-off chemistry.

The question was: what did I want to do? He was willing to try for a casual sex thing for the few months I'm still here, to see if the chemistry would work out. Me, I was more inclined to try for friends first, and maybe see about the sex later. I like making new friends, and I especially like the men I sleep with to be a friend (the best kind of lover is the one you can talk to before and after the sex), so I don't mind going in that order.

I don't think he was big on that, since I haven't heard from him since. Too bad, because he was a pretty good kisser.

Is it wrong to want more friends in your life, even if you will see so little of them?

As my countdown clock counts downward, as my last few months in San Francisco flit by, I'm finding old friends — ones that I lost or stopped seeing years ago — start to cycle back into my life. Peripherally or otherwise.

At Maker Faire two weekends ago, I ran into someone I've known for almost twelve years, but whom I haven't seen in probably three. It was one of those moments where I wasn't sure I recognized him, but he looked up when I said his name, and we ended up making my other friends wait a good ten minutes while we caught up on life. We made sure we still had each others' numbers. I was amused that the note he has about me in his digital address book said something along the lines of "cute girl, probably married by now". We made vague promises to do dinner again some time. Those might actually happen, because he actually seems determined that they do and followed up. It's flattering.

Not so flattering: on Friday I was at Off the Grid (finally made it) with my date, and a few people back in line I realized was another old friend unfriended acquaintance that I haven't seen in four years. I've also known him a long time, probably since 2004. We used to do dinner once a week, back when I worked graveyard, but then we got into a fight, I left exasperated, and even with a couple emails back and forth, it never got resolved. I'm not mad at him (though I still think he was in the wrong, sort of), but I knew it would take a lot more effort than I really felt was worth it just to appease his sense of justice/pride/forgiveness. So I let it drop. I do regret the lost friendship, but not necessarily the decision to let it go. Does that make sense? At any rate, I saw him, but tried to wait to catch his eye before making an approach, just in case. I never caught his eye, despite our standing within six people of each other. I think he was actually avoiding me, and that made me really sad. Was I the asshole? Or was he?

There are other friends that I've let drift that I've been starting to think about again. The two friends that got married this weekend, but I had to miss out because of work and finances and other things that came up. The friend who moved to L.A. a couple of years ago, but I completely forgot she was there until she texted me on my birthday just as I was driving back from Disneyland.  The friend whom I'm always reminded of when I eat pork belly (it's a flattering reminder, trust me!) or walk by Golden Gate University, where he goes/went to law school. The crew from Whiskey Thieves. Two or three nuts from high school that I haven't seen since our ten-year reunion. My ex-roommate. My college ex-roommate.

I need to make the effort to reach out to these friends, to all of these friends. And to the ones that are starting to drift into the months-of-not-seeing. A text just seems inadequate, but the problem with our modern method of having multiple ways to communicate means that the really meaningful way, the phone call, is too scary and too hard. Too much effort.

But I want to try. Because I feel, sometimes, that every friend — that is, everyone who is more than just an acquaintance — is a piece of me. And when I lose them, it leaves a hole. Some are bigger than others, of course. The biggest ones of all still pain me, months or years later; I've got a couple of those, one of which includes the guy from Friday. I thought that one was healed, and I guess it still is, but I still feel kind of empty. Well, emptier than I already had been feeling, sir.

Becoming Wendy

After a two-month hiatus, I'm back to Krav, and the time away shows. I got punched in the nose today, but that's okay, because I managed to get some hits in, too. (Mostly in the stomach, but it's a start, right?)

I look forward to the bruising along my radii. It's nice to have a mild pain like that, so long as it's not in the joints. (Oy, my joints.)

At any rate, I've been keeping a semi-secret from my internet audience, all seven of you. Partly because I was waiting for the people who needed-to-know to be told, partly because I was waiting for some more solid confirmation of timing, partly because ... I dunno. I thought maybe I should be telling more people personally. But I haven't gotten around to that, not with many of you, so now I'm doing it the impersonal way.

As of this writing, my little countdown thingy says I have 104 days left in California, and that's as close as any time to let you all know: I'm moving. To New York City, specifically. I finally guts (gutsed? gussied?) up and asked for the transfer I've been wanting for five years, and actually got a yes. So I have a job to go there to (and I'm really thankful for that), I have a place to stay until I find an apartment of my own, and I have something of a plan to get there.

And I have a map to get there, too. Because, this being me, I sure as hell plan on driving the whole way, and taking my time doing it, too. The whole month of September.


View Epic Road Trip of Awesome in a larger map

I'm not sure which part of this whole thing I'm more excited about: finally moving to NY, or finally driving cross-country. There's so much I've always wanted to see, and now I'm getting a chance to see some of it.

I've already contacted a few friends along the route to see if I can schmooze a place to stay for a night or two, but if you are sort of on the route, and I know you, and you would like me to try to drive by, feel free to shoot me an email and I'll see if I can work you in.

San Francisco friends, this means you've got just over three months left before you're rid of me. Take advantage to get a few kicks in before I go.

And New York friends, I'm finally coming home. I can't wait to see you and make you sick of me over a long period of time, instead of just a week or so.

Gone Native

It must be spring, since we've had three beautiful weekends in a row here in San Francisco. I am awaiting the inevitable impeding cool down of summer that I know is on the horizon, lurking.

At any rate, the sun was good, because it made my first baseball game ever a great, warm experience. Can't imagine sitting in the stands, shivering with cold as I watch a game that's not hockey.

Instead, it was the kind of day you see in the movies. The ones that convince tourists that San Francisco isn't all fog and wind, and lures them into visiting town with shorts and tank tops.



I joined old friends Michelle and Tamica for a game in celebration of the latter's birthday. Giants vs. Brewers, and it was a good thing they (we, I guess?) won, because it made the last four innings or so actually entertaining and enthralling.  We didn't have to keep ourselves completely occupied with just food



or men dressed up as horses for the Kentucky Derby.


Afterwards at my suggestion we headed to Straw for "high-end carnival food" (my description which won the group over). My recommendation: eat one of everything. It was all good. Even the cotton candy cocktail.



Today, I met up with Michelle and Tamica for brunch (thus making this completely an SF native type of weekend) at Serpentine (with stop for ice cream and cookies at Mr. and Mrs. Miscellaneous) (get the Pink Squirrel, it's tops). It's out Dogpatch way, which is a neighborhood that gets little attention from me, so we did a little wandering and stumbled on a tiny park right on the bay, surrounded by warehouses and dead Market Street signage.













It's amazing how a city that I've been a part of for seven years now can still surprise and awe me.

It is also amazing how a little sun can change one's opinion of one's home town. Maybe I will be leaving with some regret. Just a little.

Thousand Island

Downtown, this morning.



Pretty much no one stopped to blink at this, by the way. C'est la vie, San Francisco. C'est la vie.