SF Trip Day 1,2,3

I landed in Oakland at 12:30 pm on Thursday, and Jake picked me up and drove me over to San Francisco. I was really hoping that Sunflower (Vietnamese) or Puerto Alegre (Mexican) would be open for lunch, but no luck. Instead we ran to the grocery store to pick up potatoes for a pot-luck, and bought chips and salsa for lunch. I took a nap, and Jake's friend Sarah picked us up in this hideous massive van, with no rear view mirror, and drove us to Oakland. Her friend Doug was visiting her from Columbus, OH, and the four of us went to a home where Jake's friends were house-sitting. Therefore, it was a pretty nice home. We made polenta/tomato casserole, eggplant stuffed peppers, vietnamese duck (purchased from Clement St), sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing, mushroom gravy, and some fruity jello dessert. We drank lots of wine, sake, and they drank whiskey. I was really concerned about drunk driving so I stayed sober, which turned out to be a good idea. The driver got blitzed and asked me to drive home. I freaked about how big and unsafe the van was and asked Jake to sober up so he could drive us back over the bridge. We also played pictionary and then dictionary (poor man's balderdash). Overall the night was fun, but nobody wanted to go home until 2 am, so I had been up for 25 hours at that point. I was worried I'd have nothing to say to a bunch of improve noise kids, but I think I held my own pretty well.

Friday Jake and I walked through the peninsula to the Pork Store Cafe on Haight St for some pancakes for brunch. We returned to his apartment, and I went into a food coma and passed out. I then met up with my old coworker Lloyd and his friend Morgan for drinks at Zeitgeist around 5 pm. Marie and Matt (also old coworkers) showed up as well. We had a few pitchers of Downtown Brown, got chilly, and walked to Lloyd's house which is only a block away. At his house one of my all time favorite people, Eric, showed up and I got to talk tv and queer stuff with him for hours. My replacement at my old job came too, which was funny. I was such a favorite there, I feel sort of bad for her to have to fill my shoes. Lloyd's friend Angel came, who is probably my age. Angel's family lived next to Lloyd so they have known each other since Angel was born (Lloyd is 52). Anyway, for some reason Angel was digging through my bag(???) and saw my Dworkin book about pornography in there. He asked me if I was reading pornography, and I explained to him no, this book is about how pornography abuses women. He said "but some people really like being in porno" and I didn't really know how to handle this. He also said things like "hey, I'd be gay for pay!" in regards to doing gay porn. Essentially, dude was a mega thug. So I had trouble handling it but didn't want to start a big debate with someone who so obviously wouldn't get it. Instead, by the end of the night he was like "hey girl, can I take you out some time?" I was like "uhhh" and he said "give me your number, I'd like to see you." I said, "Ask Lloyd for my number" and he said, "well can I give you mine?" I was like "ummm I'll just get it from Lloyd" and ran out of there. Nothing like smoking some intense weed with a thug who five minutes later hits on you. It was a supremely strange experience. I got back to Jake's around 2 am, passed out, and proceeded to have dreams that I was on the island in LOST.

Today I woke up around 11, and we walked to the Mission to eat at Sunflower. Oh how I missed the imperial rolls and pan fried rice noodles with prawns! I stuffed my face because I have no idea when I will be able to get back there. It was the same waiter as always, same place as always. I then walked around Valencia St a bit. Little Otsu moved from 16th to 20th and Valencia, a much better location. There were so many cute shirts in there I wanted to buy, so I may return and pick one up. Otherwise Valencia was pretty much the same.

Then I took the N train to the CalTrain Depot, and took CalTrain to Menlo Park. My dad picked me up from the station and took me to my aunt and uncle's house. My dad, his wife, and her mother are all here on vacation too. My aunt cooked us a fancy meal and even fancier dessert and we drank fancy wines. We had the usual discussion about Leo, my polish mafia step grandfather, and about my dad's hijinx as teenager. Every time we get together all we do is tell old family stories. I wonder if other families are like this - they have nothing to talk about in common so they just tell old stories. I find it odd, yet comforting. I got super tired so my dad drove me back to San Francisco just now, and here I sit in Jake's bedroom.

Jake is living in an apartment with a bunch of people I never see around, all musician types. His room is nice, but the apartment is piled with junk everywhere. It's sort of weird to see him in this environment. In fact, it is sort of strange for me to be here. I feel like I haven't left San Francisco. Some things have changed, some new stores, new cafes, but the people are all the same, the surroundings the same. And true, it has only been 6 months since I moved, so nothing should have changed really. I guess I just think about what I've accomplished in these past six months, and how much I have changed, and I forget that nobody else went through all that like I did. I shouldn't be surprised that the same waiter for Sunflower is there, he's been there for years. I shouldn't be surprised that the pink house at the corner of Waller and Pierce is still empty. So I remain lost in my own thoughts, thoughts of my new life, my old life, stagnation and change.

I scribbled the following when I was on the train today: "2:15, SF, feel mixture of dead and free while walking the streets. Suppressed because thoughts of my old life surface, how unalive I was when here. Free because the city lends itself to getting lost in others." I felt so smothered at times in the city, which is a strange feeling to have in one of the most laid back places on earth. I put much of the blame for that feeling on myself. I have actively changed that in Chicago, and I am much much happier. I love my new life, and I am so proud of myself for having the courage to get out of this life and into where I am now. This thought occurred to me when my dad was making fun of me for living in Chicago. He hates the city and is ashamed I am there. He doesn't understand why being near my friends is so important to me. He always asks me "so how many more years in Chicago, 2 more?" As if its not my final destination point. It's really insulting. I may not love the city, but I would jump off cliffs for the people I've met there and that means so much to me I almost burst into tears just thinking about it.

Anyway...tomorrow I want to go get some Dungeoness Crab down at the warf (Dungeoness Crab season started last week), go shopping (I ruined my pants with spilled red wine on Thursday), and get margaritas and enchiladas at Puerto Alegre with Jake. I am going to be so fat when I get back.