cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

girls, food, and me

three of my favorite things. heh.

i took my lunch-break late yesterday and wandered over to the embarcadero center to meet the sentimental curmudgeon for coffee. the city was trying extra-hard to charm me on the walk over: streetcorner christmas carols on steel drums, brass letters of street-names embedded into the sidewalk under my feet, diagonal crossings allowed at one-way intersections. i was in a great mood by the time i arrived at the café, and it only improved by chatting with curmudgeon. an hour went by so fast! she is so charming and animated and articulate; i can’t wait to hang out with her again.

right after work i meandered through the rush-hour pedestrians to the MUNI light rail to the inner sunset. malice treated me to dinner at p.j.’s oyster bed on the eve of her move to seattle. again, the time passed very quickly as we ate delicious seafood and talked about moving, people, going back to college. after dinner we couldn’t find a place to park and hang out before my ferry left, so she dropped me off early and i sat inside the ferry building and read my harper’s.

we all know the mark twain quip: “the coldest winter i’ve ever spent was a summer in san francisco.” so that’s a slight exaggeration, but it does feel cold here, comparable to the cold i’ve felt in both erie and chicago, where during the winters the wind-chill factor drops the temperature to twenty, thirty degrees below zero. of course, it’s nowhere near that cold in san francisco, but it’s cold. it feels damp, chilled, like someone poured a layer of ice water in between your clothes and your skin and then pushed you out the door.

i am bundled up anymore, with gloves and scarf and hat and warm coat and sometimes even tights beneath dress pants, because i have such pathetic circulation. the ferry is heated but even that slid off my shivering. nothing sunk in. inexplicably, i wore myself down with will o’ the wisp thoughts of grad school. will i make it there? will i succeed? sometimes picturing myself as a full-fledged librarian is a great motivator, and other days it’s overwhelmingly depressing that i’m not even close yet. i’ve never been very good at breaking huge projects down into smaller, manageable ones, and this is no exception. i know where to start, yet i don’t.

the ferry and i bobbed along like that for almost an hour. nothing was familiar on the other side, as if i had crossed an ocean instead of just a bay.

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

∞