Hello, LiveJournal
Happy 10th anniversary. I guess I know how long this thing has been around.
*
I am now a resident of San Francisco. Here, in my living room/bedroom, I sit on my comfy chair and internet. If I want to use the bathroom, I can get up and do so, and nobody else will be in it! It's pretty exciting. So far, the only other being eating the food in my house is Rufus, and he eats his own food. It's awesome.
Having roommates was turning me into a spiteful and passive aggressive person. Now I can return to my vague levels of aggression quite happily.
I wasn't sure I'd like living alone - I still have Law and Order caliber visions of being found in pools of my own blood to to cataclysmic stranger crime, but I'm doing pretty well, probably because I have no cable and my t.v. is in the closet, so I can't scare the fuck out of myself.
Tonight, walking home from a movie at Japan Town, I saw this girl weaving down the sidewalk. She kept losing her shoe, so I caught up to her and asked if she was ok. When she turned around, it became apparent that she was extraordinarily drunk. She told me I was very nice to ask after her and that she only lived half a block away. I didn't want to be creepy, so I did not follow her home, but I did open my window to listen for potential mugging on Austin. Jesus, I am really paranoid.
Rufus is also adjusting, although I think he's bored. I'm weighing whether I trust him to be a fire escape kitty, but I think the lure of the roof next door might be too much, and I don't want him trying anything from four floors up. Around this time of night he stares longingly at the door and gives a little yelp. He's clearly figured out what leads away from kitty prison, but all he's going to find is carpeted hallway. Right now he's trying to wedge his face through the cracked window.
*
A transformer near my house exploded Friday, knocking out power to my neighborhood. I was working from home, so I lost internet. It was fun to call my pal Erik and go camp at his house. Then he and his wife Reenie invited me to stay and barbecue with them. Tuesday I saw Heather, and Thursday I had happy hour at Chris' house with Eugenia and some of his other pals, and then drinks with Lisa at Orson. So, in my week in SF, I've seen two of the people I can never seem to nail down and spent time with some new friends. I'm also almost unpacked. I hope it's not too premature to call this move a success. Well, almost a success. The apartment above me seems to be occupied by nocturnal elephants.
It's interesting - when you tell people in San Francisco you've moved from Oakland, they congratulate you, like this is what you must always have wanted. It's nice, but it kind of misses the point. My Oakland life was what I wanted for a long time - until it wasn't anymore. Lisa made a point at drinks about Oakland being my brand, and I think in a way that was part of the problem. I feel a bit ghettoized (no pun, I swear) by The Town. It was time to move on.
And, in 2008, I undertook so many changes. There was the break-up and subsequent move, two job changes... it was too much to consider an entirely new place. But as the year went on, I realized that maybe the transition was incomplete. I think moving to San Francisco is a continuation of last year's push for change. Maybe it's the completion. I don't know.
*
Ross is back. I don't know if we're friends really, but I don't know that we're not. He just moved home to San Francisco after 13 years in New York. I got a spam from him about the move and a job search, so I referred him for a position at Y!. He starts at the end of the month. (This means I get a bonus. Bonus!) I wonder what part he will play in my life, if any. I wonder if you can really start over with people. When he came to interview, I met up with him for a bit and we got as caught up as you can in an hour. He's still Ross, but a grown-up Ross, familiar, but with big gaps and some gray hair... eight years worth of gaps.
In another interesting coincidence, a certain Mitch is following my Oakland Twitter feed. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know it's mine, though.
I don't think people ever really change. I think they become more themselves. That's something Mark said about me once - that I was more myself the longer he knew me. In context, that's true in a lot of ways. I was so busy pretending to be a grown up college gal when we dated, that often behaved in the way I thought I was supposed to. I probably wasn't even in touch with how I wanted to be.
I started this entry talking about 10 years of Live Journal. I've used this journal to preserve thoughts and moments, to communicate tacitly with people I know are reading, to get others in trouble, to check in. When I think about people not changing, I think I fall firmly into that camp. The more things change, the more I remain the same.
*
I am now a resident of San Francisco. Here, in my living room/bedroom, I sit on my comfy chair and internet. If I want to use the bathroom, I can get up and do so, and nobody else will be in it! It's pretty exciting. So far, the only other being eating the food in my house is Rufus, and he eats his own food. It's awesome.
Having roommates was turning me into a spiteful and passive aggressive person. Now I can return to my vague levels of aggression quite happily.
I wasn't sure I'd like living alone - I still have Law and Order caliber visions of being found in pools of my own blood to to cataclysmic stranger crime, but I'm doing pretty well, probably because I have no cable and my t.v. is in the closet, so I can't scare the fuck out of myself.
Tonight, walking home from a movie at Japan Town, I saw this girl weaving down the sidewalk. She kept losing her shoe, so I caught up to her and asked if she was ok. When she turned around, it became apparent that she was extraordinarily drunk. She told me I was very nice to ask after her and that she only lived half a block away. I didn't want to be creepy, so I did not follow her home, but I did open my window to listen for potential mugging on Austin. Jesus, I am really paranoid.
Rufus is also adjusting, although I think he's bored. I'm weighing whether I trust him to be a fire escape kitty, but I think the lure of the roof next door might be too much, and I don't want him trying anything from four floors up. Around this time of night he stares longingly at the door and gives a little yelp. He's clearly figured out what leads away from kitty prison, but all he's going to find is carpeted hallway. Right now he's trying to wedge his face through the cracked window.
*
A transformer near my house exploded Friday, knocking out power to my neighborhood. I was working from home, so I lost internet. It was fun to call my pal Erik and go camp at his house. Then he and his wife Reenie invited me to stay and barbecue with them. Tuesday I saw Heather, and Thursday I had happy hour at Chris' house with Eugenia and some of his other pals, and then drinks with Lisa at Orson. So, in my week in SF, I've seen two of the people I can never seem to nail down and spent time with some new friends. I'm also almost unpacked. I hope it's not too premature to call this move a success. Well, almost a success. The apartment above me seems to be occupied by nocturnal elephants.
It's interesting - when you tell people in San Francisco you've moved from Oakland, they congratulate you, like this is what you must always have wanted. It's nice, but it kind of misses the point. My Oakland life was what I wanted for a long time - until it wasn't anymore. Lisa made a point at drinks about Oakland being my brand, and I think in a way that was part of the problem. I feel a bit ghettoized (no pun, I swear) by The Town. It was time to move on.
And, in 2008, I undertook so many changes. There was the break-up and subsequent move, two job changes... it was too much to consider an entirely new place. But as the year went on, I realized that maybe the transition was incomplete. I think moving to San Francisco is a continuation of last year's push for change. Maybe it's the completion. I don't know.
*
Ross is back. I don't know if we're friends really, but I don't know that we're not. He just moved home to San Francisco after 13 years in New York. I got a spam from him about the move and a job search, so I referred him for a position at Y!. He starts at the end of the month. (This means I get a bonus. Bonus!) I wonder what part he will play in my life, if any. I wonder if you can really start over with people. When he came to interview, I met up with him for a bit and we got as caught up as you can in an hour. He's still Ross, but a grown-up Ross, familiar, but with big gaps and some gray hair... eight years worth of gaps.
In another interesting coincidence, a certain Mitch is following my Oakland Twitter feed. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know it's mine, though.
I don't think people ever really change. I think they become more themselves. That's something Mark said about me once - that I was more myself the longer he knew me. In context, that's true in a lot of ways. I was so busy pretending to be a grown up college gal when we dated, that often behaved in the way I thought I was supposed to. I probably wasn't even in touch with how I wanted to be.
I started this entry talking about 10 years of Live Journal. I've used this journal to preserve thoughts and moments, to communicate tacitly with people I know are reading, to get others in trouble, to check in. When I think about people not changing, I think I fall firmly into that camp. The more things change, the more I remain the same.