In a Western Place

It’s day one of my five day Thanksgiving break and I’m still in my pjamies, yes! While I’m thrilled to have all of this time away from work, I’m feeling a wee bit guilty about not flying back home for the holiday. Truth be told, after flying back East three times in the past year, I’ve grown pretty sick of the long flight. Sick and stressed. Ah well, that’s what you get for moving 3,000 miles away. We will be coming home for Christmas, but before then, I’m talking to my doctor about Xanax.

Happy Thanksgiving! We’ll be celebrating T-day with good friends up in Berkley. Miss you.

I’ve always wanted to speak both Spanish and German, fluently. I took Spanish in Junior and Senior high, and a little German in college. The result? I speak a very broken Germanic Spanglish. I’ve tried to work on both languages over the years, through audio CD’s, interactive CDROMs and podcasts… but they’ve rarely held my interest for more than a few weeks. Lucky for me, the City College of San Francisco offers many language classes for only 22 bucks a credit hour! I’ve been looking for something to keep me occupied on the nights that Matty has band practice, so I applied and received my class registration instructions. While perusing the classes and schedule last night, I found out that I can take a placement exam to determine which level of Spanish I should start out with. I took the test online, and failed, So much for those 6 years of Spanish growing up. Thanks a lot, brain!

I found my old Canon S400 point and shoot… and boy oh boy what a shaky little bugger. Here are some shots from the weekend:

The kitchen and door to the back deck. I love it.

Glen Park Canyon — a great hike, just a few blocks down the street from us!

Outside of the Glen Park BART station. That’s Matty sending off the Netflix.

Where I lay my head…

Mr. Handy Man, installing his guitar hooks.

Lazy photographer.

We live near a highway on/off ramp so our little two lane boulevard gets a lot of action. The front end of the house is a bit noisy. I hardly notice it, but I do feel annoyed when jackholes screech their tires (slow down!), honk their horns, or get pulled over (jackhole speed trap). Last night, while watching TV in the bedroom, I heard a ton of firetrucks and ambulances zoom by. I didn’t know why until I read the news this morning. A house blew up? And just a few short blocks away from me!? It must have happened while I was in the shower — what the heck?

Anyway, explosions aside, I had to arrive at work early this morning because we’re expecting a visit from the board, or something. Not only were we asked to be at work by 8:30 (early!), but we were encouraged to dress business casual, clean up our workspaces, and keep our fingers out of our noses. Commuting a bit earlier meant that I missed the normal morning rush — which eliminated a great deal of daily stress for me. Since the cat has me up at 5:30 every morning scratching at the bedroom door like a dog — perhaps I’ll turn over a new leaf and start going into work earlier, like before 9:00? Let’s see if I can do it.

It’s been unseasonably warm over here these past few days. The new apartment manages to stay cool on it’s own, miraculously, so I’ve been very comfortable. Life is great — we’re very happy with the neighborhood, our upstairs neighbors, and the place overall. If I wasn’t feeling so dang wiped out from the weekend, I would’ve added some exclamation points to that last sentence. In all my adult years, it’s nice to finally have a place that I see myself living in for awhile. We’ve been spending a lot of time on it, and I’m hoping that after the arrival of the couch this week the place will be somewhat picture-ready.

In other news, I hopped off the F-line this morning to see a big ol’ decorated Christmas tree in front of me. Sigh.

Vitamin Party and the Ex-Boyfriends:

He may look all sweet and innocent here, but Joey (the cat) keeps clawing at my stuff. Yesterday, I found a hold the size of a quarter in my favorite duvet! Any and all advice is appreciated. And yes, we do have scratching posts. An no, Matty won’t let me put him outside.

After hearing word, I cried. Tears of joy and relief, but mostly of pride. It’s people for the people again, finally.

And that, my friends, is what I believe to be “God’s will.”