Let's All Sit in a Circle

I love that rush I get when discovering not only a new author I love, but one who's written tons of stuff. That rushing thrill of New! Reading! Material! Then you curl up inside all that reading, and when you emerge in a daze with the way you think about things changed for life, in the back of your head all that's going through your head is What the hell will I read now? Wow. I guess I just really, really love reading.

I just need to pause to say that my apartment hallway is very echo-y, and I can always hear everyone who walks by, talks, or makes any noise. Right now a very chipper older late is talking to a man with a heavy Spanish accent who is responding to her politely but you can hear in his voice he wants to get away. Anyway, the point is, this woman has the same squeaky voice as my old cousin Clara, who was old for my entire life. She always used to confuse me with my mom, and it really made me twitch when she'd tell me, thinking I was my mom, that she remembers when my mother was alive. My mother *IS* alive, it's *HER* mother who died! Get it right, woman! Of course I could never say that - I'd just listen to her tell me stories about "my" mom and commit them to memory so I could tell my mom later, and she could collect other people's memories about the mother she didn't get enough time with.

Moving on! Back to reading! Good blogs are a great thing to discover because bloggers have archives. Archives mean days of reading material. I'm always flattered when I, my blog, represents that to someone else. People I'd never meet in real life. People who, even if I met, would agree we had nothing in common. Except people will write more than they will say (if their family isn't reading), so you can find those commonalities after all.

Charlene from -lifedramatic- recently found my blog and not only is she reading the archives, but she's commenting on things I'd forgotten about writing. She responded to an old post where I solicited questions with hers, and here's her list, along with my answers.

1. Don't keep me in suspense. Did you ever get a camera? What kind? Where are the pictures?? :)
Yes, I was given a camera. I don't know how to say what kind of camera it is properly, so I've gone meta and taken a picture of it with Photoshop for you. It says it's a Panisonic Lumix, with 5.0 megapixels and um yeah. I really, really want to be one of those people who takes their camera everywhere they go and takes cool pictures of a sewer grate or a businessman fixing his sock that make people stop and think, but I haven't reached that level. Then, before I could keep trying to reach it, my camera used up all its battery juice and buying new batteries for a camera simply is not a priority when you're scraping together money for rent each month, you know? So that's where I'm at with my camera.

A couple of years ago I went to LA, and I did take some awesome pictures if I do say so myself. I crossed a foot bridge in Santa Monica and took a picture of a Coke cup discarded carefully on a step that I really liked (yet can't find now). It doesn't help that I don't understand Flickr - why are the pictures I've taken in Photoshop on Flickr, and how did they get there? Where is my precious Coke cup picture? Where are all the old pictures I took on my camera and (thought I) uploaded to Flickr?

2. You mentioned you were in therapy for a long time. I'm in therapy now. Have been since my first husband started cheating on me, and never left her. I see a lot of things through your posts that I should be doing but haven't been able to yet. For example, doing things to help me not feel depressed. I find that I kind of wallow in the depression, like I'm in a maze and I can't really find my way out. How do you do it?
Wow. Well. Two or three things.
1. I am sorry your first husband cheated on you. It seems more common these days for people to forgive that, and although this may fall into the "you can't know until you're in that situation" I don't think I'd be able to forgive that. I believe in the "if you aren't into me enough to not cheat on me, then just break up with me honestly" religion.
2. Let's be honest here, okay? I'm not always able to snap out of it. Being out of work is very, VERY difficult. A little while before moving out of Florida my messiness reached an overwhelming head, and another person had to come in to help dig me out. I swore to myself it would never get to that point again. It hasn't, but I have been known to send in my unemployment form a week or two late because I lost it in the pile of stuff on my ottoman and haven't had the wherewith all to dig it out. So, I'm not perfect.

At least a decade ago I read an article in Newsday about how people with learning disabilities function better if their outside world is neat and organized. It took me several years to get my life in line with that, and found it was true. My brain is so busy translating what people have said into words and concepts I understand (and then I have to race to listen and process while also listening to their next thought and saving that for translation while responding to the first thing) that it creates more work when things are physically a wreck. So I try to stay neat. When I don't, I have absolutely noticed a correlation between seeing a wreck and my heart sinking and becoming overwhelmed.
3. The way I do it when I'm doing it is, I have a set schedule. So when I'm working, I know what errands I'll run on my lunch hour on which day, and which days I'll go to the library after work. When I wake up I smooth out my blanket to make my bed look neat (tucking in the blanket takes too long). On weekends I buy five breakfasts (or one cardboard tin of Quaker's Instant Oatmeal) so I'll have quick breakfasts each morning I'm at work. I feel no difference (other than hunger) between eating breakfast and not in terms of being productive, but study after study, decade after decade swears eating breakfast is good for you, so I eat a healthy one.

I keep in mind when I'm depressed all the other times I've been depressed (yes, I realize that sounds depressing) and that if I can just force myself to shower and get dressed, then I'll be able to take out the garbage, which will mean I'll be ready to go through mail that's piled up, etc. Things can spin out of control. But they can also spin into the control if you just start the spin. You have to find what will start your spin.

3. What would you do if your neighbor got a pig and you had to hear it grunting and squealing when you were trying to relax? (Seriously, this just happened to me...)
Charlene, this does not sound pleasant ... wait. Is it a baby pig? Because those things are cute! Did you see the movie with that Dawson's Creek kid who played Knox and his friend had a pig named Bacon?

To answer your question, I would ask the city/town if this was legal, and if it was not, because I'm somewhat passive-aggressive I'd consider reporting them. In the meantime though, I might ask the neighbors if they could move their pigpen to the center of their yard so the noise was traveling so well into my space, and I'd look into what kind of white noise I could employ to drown out the pig noise. Wind chimes probably wouldn't cut it, huh?

4. I've always wanted to visit California and SF in general! I love seafood. Do you like any seafood? (I know you said you are a picky eater).
Yes, I love seafood too. Every time I am at Whole Foods I check to see if the scallops are on sale. I'm not sure I've found any stellar seafood restaurants here, but I haven't specifically looked, and don't dine out much these days.

5. Have you ever been to whereever it is you can go to see the seals there? Seals are smelly, but they're cute too.
I think you're talking about Pier 39, where there are sea lions. Yes, I've been there. More than once. Maybe it does for other people, but for me, it never gets old to see the sea lions sunning themselves and pushing each other into the water, and flopping back up to dry off from a swim.

6. What's your favorite thing about SF?
People ask this a lot. I don't have a good answer. This is the first major city I've ever lived in, so I really have nothing to compare it to. I love that the weather makes it easy to spend time outdoors. I love that there's tons of free stuff to do and watch. You can make a full day out of watching the Gay Pride Parade, a full morning out of watching Bay to Breakers take off and then going to the Ferry Building for the farmer's market. You can surround yourself with tourists or escape them by going to the places tourists never know about. You can learn (if you're me) how to become comfortable being the only white person on the bus. Hell, you can learn how to use city buses, something that was foreign and scary to me at first.

This is the place where I learned how to make friends. Where I learned to cut myself a little slack. Where I got to hone the art of agreeing to disagree, of stretching my mind to see other people's viewpoints. I don't know that these things happened because I am in SF, just that they happened while I was here. But when I have entertained thoughts of leaving here and moving elsewhere, I have worried "what if I can't make friends?"

7. I grew up in North Miami, FL. It sounds like when you were in FL you were in the Pompano area. Why did you move there?
You nailed it. I moved to Florida because I wanted to move out of my parent's house. When I looked at apartments on Long Island, they were all depressing illegal basement apartments in the back of people's homes. I distinctly remember looking at one with my dad, and then quietly telling him, "This is the kind of place that's great for committing suicide." My grandpa lived in FL - he had an apartment in an old-people community, and mostly lived at his girlfriend's apartment (in the same community). When I considered the idea of moving to Florida, he allowed me to stay at his place for a few months while I got myself established. I knew of one girl around my age when I moved to Florida, and she was a real estate agent. She showed me four apartment complexes, all places she'd show her sister, and I picked the one with the most natural sunlight. The master closet was big enough for a controlled cartwheel. There was a laundry pantry in the kitchen. There was so much space in that apartment that I had multiple empty cabinets. So that's why I moved to Florida, the specific city within Florida, and the specific apartment complex.

8. Will you please post a comment or two on my blog? :)
Already done!

Truth and Numbers

We're getting all raw and honest today. Every two weeks I get $860 courtesy of unemployment.

Yesterday while on my way to the library after volunteering, I got a phone call from a recruiter, asking if I could work tomorrow (that'd be today). I said sure. He was more chatty than usual and after a while I recognized it as nervous chatter. So while we talked about how great the weather's been lately and how sad it is that Michael Jackson died, my mind was racing. Then it hit me.

"So Tony, what does this pay?" It's so nice that you can ask recruiters and headhunters flat out about money instead of having to play the "I am confident you will offer me a fair wage commensurate with my skills and experience..." card.

I knew I'd hit the mark when Tony hesitated. "I don't want you to think this is what we think of you - Patty and I know you're worth much, much more. You're at the top of our list for all jobs that come in. They're only willing to pay this because they don't need someone with a lot of experience, but we don't have anyone with such a little bit of experience." And on and on.

$14. That's right. $14 an hour (normally when temping I get between $25-30 an hour). That's $98 a day. That's $980 for two weeks (not that this was a two-week gig, but for math's sake, hear me out). $860 from unemployment. Or $980 BEFORE taxes from a job. I'm in the "take about a third out" tax bracket. So if you're following along, that means I get more from unemployment than from working today.

You may want to tell me, "But Green! This was an opportunity to sharpen your skills! Possibly learn a new program to put on your resume! NETWORKKKKKKK!" Ummm, yeah, you're right. It was an opportunity to do all these things.

Here's what I learned today: Jergens makes a cherry almond lotion that smells really good! I used it in the bathroom after photocopying bills to go out to over 100 clients, and stuffing, stamping and closing envelopes. Because paper dries skin out. Which I learned from Sandy who I worked for at the tennis club in New York.

I did not learn to use any new programs, though I did un-jam the copier and figure out how to use the fax machine without any assistance. My skills are as sharp as the two paper cuts I got. The Ivy league educated partner said hello to me in the morning and then belched as he walked past me, so there wasn't much networking going on.

But hey, positive thinking, right? I had something to do today that involved leaving the house! That's two days in a row. Plus, because I was working today I didn't have time to read all day, so now the books I took out from the library will last one day longer than they would have otherwise. And let's not forget that Jergens cherry almond lotion. Because that was a great find.

Moving and Crying (Get a drink, this is a long one)

Firstly, I would just like to say that I have always been a fan of Scotch tape. I've used it for my entire life, and it's always served me well. Very well. However as of today, I am now cheating on the Scotch tape, with Walgreens brand tape. Shocking that I would endorse Walgreens anything since normally I look down my nose at them, but that all changed this afternoon. This afternoon my good friend Barrett offered to come over, with moving boxes, and moving paper. Of course I jumped at this, and then when she arrived she ensured she'll be getting both a Hanukah and a Labor Day present from me by offering to drive me to Walgreens to buy tape and then to come up and help me start packing.

Peoples, this Walgreens tape kicked ASS. It was strong (perhaps I should wait to see if the boxes hold up through the move before saying this, but I'm going out on a limb - that's just the kind of wild and crazy gal I am), and didn't split off into strips when we tried to get the roll going. I must have told Barrett three or four times, "This tape is GREAT!"

Okay, moving on. As you may know, my roommate Wooffers wants me to give her notice before having anyone over. And by "notice" she means, she wants me to ask so she can veto it if it's not convenient for her. Which as well all know, is total and complete bullshit. I pay rent. I get to have people over during normal waking hours. It's really that simple. Now, the reality is, I haven't had anyone over socially since moving in at the beginning of May. My two friends helped me move in, there was the crying disaster with trying to have my brother and his wife over, a guy came over for 30 seconds to look at a chair I'd listed on Craigslist, and today Barrett came over.

It just so happens that I hurt my back something awful this morning. That threw me off. Then, I missed three buses in a row because I kept thinking I could move faster than I was really capable of doing (the bus stop is across the street - normally I run down when it's two minutes away). That threw me off tremendously. I was late getting to my friend's house, then late getting to my volunteer gig. I am almost never late. I was completely flustered today.

So when Barrett called to say she was on her way, I was an hour away from my home. I don't have Wooffer's phone number in my cell phone. Simply didn't get around to it and then once she gave me notice to get out I figured there was no reason to bother doing it. When I stepped off the bus, Barrett was sitting in her parked car across the street from my house waiting for me.

A Post About the New Digs

Peoples, I just want to apologize for my lack of writing lately. First I was all stressed and busy getting ready to go to Mexico, then I was all stressed getting ready to move, and now since moving, I do not yet have my furniture set up in a way conducive to writing. I'm working on it.

So yeah, I moved within San Francisco. Now I'm not in the neighborhood closest to the Bay Bridge anymore. Now I'm only paying $1,000 a month and splitting utilities. I'm no longer in a touristy neighborhood. Peoples, I am finally in a neighborhood that feels like it's really in San Francisco, complete with hills and fog!

I'm in a neighborhood that has its own farmer's market. Last weekend I ran down there and signed up to volunteer. Of course, don't think I did that because of what a good person I am, who wants to give back to the community. No, I did it because I'm hoping it'll lead to free farmer's market food.

This area is great. I mean, aside from not having any supermarkets, that is. Other than that, it's fantastic. When I went to the bank to let them know to change my address I wound up talking to a very nice bank dude who'd also just moved to the area. When he told me his apartment was full of empty boxes, I told him to throw an ad on Craigslist to sell them - he was shocked to hear they'd sell, but mine did. Hell, I practically had a bidding war going at one point. Later while waiting for the bus to get back up my hill, I made friends with a lovely old lady who moved to the area in 1956 when her son was two weeks old, and we chatted for over 15 minutes about how things are so different now from how they used to be. The lady told me that once a week she gets together with her old high school girlfriends for lunch. I wandered into a chocolate shop to look around, and the owner offered me some free chocolate. Who wouldn't want to live here?!

The apartment itself is a big change for me - this is the first time I'm not living in a place with a leasing office. My landlord is actually a human being. There are only about 10 people in total who live here. One of my neighbors introduced himself to me and shook my hand and everything! Remember when you were a little kid and your mommy made all your friends for you? Well, my mommy always dealt with the relationships with neighbors too, and now I don't know how to do it. I've never lived in a place where I've known my neighbors before. Am I supposed to run out and buy some sugar in case a neighbor needs to borrow some? Am I supposed to listen to hear if any neighbors sneeze so I can rush to make them some chicken soup? How does this work?

What essentially happened was that I had to move a full apartment's worth of stuff into one bedroom (and one bathroom). Clearly I gave away a lot. Golden Boy and Crazy Girl are storing my dining room table and chairs, and a good friend is storing some of my other things in her tiny apartment.

Do You Ever Wonder WHY I Live in San Francisco?

You may think it's the weather, or how nice the people are here, or that I like being around food snobs. But no. I live here because SHIT LIKE THIS GOES DOWN. And as mind-blowingly awesome as it is that it goes down in Union Square, a place I actually frequent, it's not that unusual for something like this to happen here. And that's what I love. Because nothing says "Happy Green" like performance art.

Dear Public Displays of Musical Affection,

If you're ever getting ready to rehearse 1-2-3-4, please contact me. I've already started practicing. Naturally, I already have a green t-shirt, so as you can see, I'm really serious about this.

Thanks
Green

Tuesday Farmer's Market

Have I ever mentioned that I love the Farmer's Market at this time of year? Because I do. Very much. Plums, pluots, white peaches, cherries, blueberries ... all so good. So, so very good. (Look at me! I could practically be a food snob with how much I love it all!)

This past Saturday, I went to the Farmer's Market as I almost always do (hello, Stalker), and they were having a cherry tasting for free. Normally you can taste anything at any stand for free, but last weekend they had one table that had cherries from each of the different farms that were at the Farmer's Market.

I totally tasted from each farm. The winner? K&J Orchards, hands down. Their cherries were big and plump and not damanged at all. I went over to their stall and picked up some chandler bing cherries. Asked the boy manning the stall if he'd be back on Tuesday for the weekday farmer's market. "Well, I won't, but my dad will." Good enough for me!

Totally loading up for the week (that last trip was just to get me through the weekend) on all the great fruit in season now. If I were all fancy-like I'd artfully arrange the fruit I bought and place it just so in dishes I bought specifically for plums and bowls I searched high and low for to house cherries, and take pictures of them for you, complete with perfect lighting. But I'm not.

So instead, you get pictures other people have taken. If you got my pictures, you'd see a plain silver bowl with some paper towel and the blueberries washed and plopped in there. That is, if you could see them in the darkness that is my kitchen. Oh well. The important thing is that they taste good, right? Right.