SF: Day 2

Although all my days in the city were buys, this was the busiest day by far. As a preface let's just say we walked about five hours and spend another one or two on some form of public transportation. It was a true city style experience like nothing I've ever done before.

This was my first day on the Metro (also known as the Muni), the subway system restricted to only the San Francisco side of the bay. The whole thing was still really confusing to me and I couldn't help but think of how lost I would be if had to do it all by myself. Needless to say, I was really grateful to be doing all of this with Trevor. The Metro was a little more populated than the BART had been the night before, but it still wasn't bad. I was beginning to think those crowded Hollywood scenes from the movie were just embellishments, but Trevor reminded me it was only 8:30 in the morning and that I would get the true subway experience a little later in the afternoon.

We rode the Metro to the end of the line at the Embarcadero Station to start our morning at the Farmer's Market. They hold it in and around the Ferry Building - the old docks and clock tower for the ferries that used to be used as a means of transportation, but are now used mainly as a tourist attraction. The inside of the ferry building has been turned into a bunch of little shops - cafes, chocolate shops, book stores, novelty stores and the like. There were SO many people - I later remarked that I felt like I saw more people every ten minutes than I typically saw in a whole day. There were all kinds of fruits and vegetables and products, some that I'd never even heard of...it was definitely the kind of place I could see myself shopping if I lived there. Lots of exotic things and a wide variety of people too.

In the building we stopped at this kitchen store (I know its not uniquely San Francisco) called Sur la Table; I'd never been in one before. I've never been big on cooking or baking on my own because I've never had the kitchen space or the time to do so - but lately I've been looking forward to learning how to cook for myself, especially knowing I will have a kitchen in dorm life next year. This store made me more excited than ever to have my own place with my own kitchen with my own plates and dishes and pots and pans and utensils...everywhere I looked I found something unique that I would love to have as a part of my future kitchen. A little on the expensive side sometimes, but still.

Forgive me if some of the rest of this day is out of order - we did a lot and its hard to remember the order that we went in. I might skip out on some smaller details too because this post would just be too gigantic to exist if I included every little thing that I thought. :)

We walked from the Ferry Building to Chinatown which was freaking HUGE. There were so many people and so many stores selling the oddest things - apparently the Chinese like a lot of things in ball form and a lot of things freeze dried (shrimp, sea cucumber, seaweed, etc.) All the shops and stuff kind of reminded me of some of the places on Olvera Street. Trevor told me you have to be careful what you buy down there though because a lot of it can be products of underground shady businesses. But it was a good cultural experience, since I won't actually be going to China anytime soon.

After China town we did some crazy hilly walking up to Coit Tower to get one of the best views of the whole city. There were a lot of tourists up there, taking all the typical San Francisco touristy pictures. The hills and stairs we had to take to get up there were insane, but the view was worth it. Apparently you can go to the top of the tower too, but it costs five bucks, I figured the extra couple hundred yards up in the air wasn't going to make that big of a difference on the view so I was content with just staying at the base of the tower.

Walking back down all the hills was quite a bit easier than going up, but I could still tell my legs were going to be paying for this the next day! After walking down that huge hill, we approached another even bigger hill to walk up to see Lombard Street - the crookedest street in San Francisco. If you walk up it you have a TON of shallow stairs to climb up to get to the top, but it was pretty neat to watch all the cars driving down this maze like road.

We walked down another steep hill to get to Ghirardelli Square, another little plaza that was centered around the Ghirardelli chocolate and ice cream shops. I was able to resist the temptation to buy anything for myself, but I did buy some chocolate for my parents. When I go back, I'll definitely be stopping to get myself some ice cream. :)

We went to North Beach, which is like the Italian section of the city - little Italian flags painted on the light posts, Italian named stores, pizzerias. We weren't in here for very long, kind of just a quick walk through, but we did stop at Washington Square (I think that's where we were), a great little park in the middle of an otherwise packed area of the city. There weren't really that many people there when we got there, just a few with their dogs and others just sitting on benches enjoying the nice weather.

Then we went down to Fisherman's Wharf. I really liked this part of the day because we were by the water and there was just so much history and things to be looked at and read about. We walked down the pier and read about the histories of some of the different boats that were docked there - huge boats and little boats that played important parts in history. There were people walking around dressed as if they were in 1901, answering questions and talking about what the city was like back then. We walked into this place called Musee Mecanique that had hundreds of old arcade games and mechanically operated puppets and music boxes. The oldest thing there was this flip-book and mirror type machine from 1889! And it still works! Those are the kind of things that people would do for entertainment back then - no TVs, no computers. It was fascinating. We put a quarter in one called "The French Execution" and watched the curtain raise up and a priest stand over a man in a guillotine as his head got chopped off! Outside of this building was a little submarine museum with the USS Pampanito from WWII on display. They also had a memorial to all the men in the Navy and the Marines who disappeared in submarines during the war, the numbers were unbelievable.

We navigated our way through crowds of people to find the best place to get a bowl of clam chowder and ended up at a place over looking the harbor called Tarantino's. We had a super nice waitress with a cute accent - she had to have been from like Minnesota or Wisconsin. It was very quite and nice and we had fantastic bread bowls filled with clam chowder while we watched people walk by outside and watched the boats in the harbor. It was the first time we'd really sat all day too, which was a reward in itself!

From here I believe we took a bus (first time on a city bus) to the Civic Center to see the Saint Patrick's Day parade. At the bus stop I sat next to these two funny older ladies who were ranting about the time change and how inconsistent the buses were. The parade was quite the scene - a bunch of families with little munchkins all dressed in green, or a lot a lot of drunk people haha. People just walked around with beers and flasks and drank to their hearts' content. The parade itself was pretty cute and funny, but I'm not sure how many people were there to actually watch as opposed to having a great reason to get really drunk in public. It tied in pretty well with my reading of Frank McCourt's 'Tis too...about how when it comes down to it, everyone says they have a little Irish in them. :)

After some great people watching at the parade, we decided we should head back towards Trevor's house, but not without a stop at the Castro Station. He informed me that the Castro District was pretty much the most heavily gay and lesbian district of San Fran. We walked out of the subway to a vision of rainbow flags everywhere, couples of every shape and size, homosexual and heterosexual. We walked by drag queen stores where a man in full women's clothing was hanging up a sign outside of his shop. We went into this place called Hot Cookie (home of the famous penis shaped cookie, haha) to get some cookies that we ate on a corner as we people watched. I'd have to honestly say that was probably one of my favorite parts; I could have sat on that corner for hours. So many people from so many different walks of life walked by that street and it was so intriguing. We saw gay couples, a man walking a cat on a leash, two men who had pet cockatoos riding on their shoulders, a man walking down the street butt naked...and all of this was normal for this area. It was absolutely great, nobody really seemed to be second guessing what anyone else was doing, everyone was pretty cheerful and pretty polite and happy. Definitely a place I will return to when I go again.

We took the subway back to Trevor's and took a little break before we got in the car to drive up to Two Peaks to get another great view of the city. Two Peaks, if you remember, is what you can see from Trevor's window, and you can also see Trevor's house once you get up to Two Peaks. You can hike up the peaks also, and weather permitting I think that would be another great adventure; but after all the walking we'd done that day...I was perfectly okay with driving up!

After Two Peaks we took on the number one tourist attraction of San Francisco - The Golden Gate Bridge. On our way there we drove through the Golden Gate Park, mainly to see the buffalo (!!!), but Trevor also pointed out other features to me as we drove through, like the community track, parks, and conservatories. We drove over the Golden Gate Bridge and then parked on the other side so we could go walk on it. To say it was massive would be an understatement. So crazy that human's could build something that HUGE and make it that stable and reliable. We walked all the way to the center of the bridge before we stopped to enjoy the view. Trevor spit water off the side and I timed how long it took for it to hit the ocean water - 10 seconds! A 10 second fall! That was an even crazier thought considering the article we'd just read about a high schooler jumping off the bridge and surviving. After causing our necks to be sufficiently sore from all the looking straight up at the massive structure, we headed back across the bridge so we could get back to Trevor's before dinner.

We met Justin, Leah, and his mom, who had just flown in, at Justin's before heading out to this Vietnamese restaurant on the other side of the bay. Now, if you know me you know that I am not a very adventurous foody, and this would be the second night in a row that I was trying something outside the norm. It was at this point that I abandoned my skepticism of unfamiliar foods and decided I would continue trying new things for the remainder of the weekend. I had pho and other meat and shrimp dishes cooked with a mixture of spices and cooked vegetables - you'll be happy to know that I enjoyed it all and was very satisfied after. I'm still pretty proud of myself!

Exhausted, we headed back to Trevor's pretty early, showered and then went to bed pretty early. We had a whole other day coming that we needed to be rested for!

San Francisco: Day 1

This was my first time flying by myself. After a third run-down of exactly what I was supposed to do before my flight, I nervously walked through the doors into the bustle and chaos that is LAX. For someone who gets as easily distracted by watching and is in a very unfamiliar situation (as I was), this has the potential to be very dangerous. But obviously I survived, I'm writing this aren't I?

I got a window seat on the plane - my number one goal of my flying experience - so I was a pretty happy camper. We took off over the ocean and I remembered how much I love flying (it's been about 5 years since the last time I was on a plane). I don't get any fear out of it, I still get the thrill of the take-off and the landing, and I adore the changes in perspective. It's unbelievable to see the ocean and all it's expansiveness from a plane; it's an entirely different feel from the shoreline strain to follow the horizon. It took five minutes to get from LA to Ventura, I only know this because I could follow the patterns of the familiar coastline and I could spot the Ventura pier extending into the ocean. An hour and fifteen minutes of driving time was the equivalent of 5 minutes of flying time...that's really freaking fast! Not to mention how high we were - I saw the tops of clouds instead of the underside, covering the coastline for miles. Big change in perspective. We flew over mountains and mountains; land that was completely uninhabited and natural. It was breathtakingly beautiful, not to be cliche. There really is no other way to describe it.

And then, before I knew it, we were touching down in San Francisco. I met Trevor out past security and was introduced to the hustle and the ways of the city immediately as we trekked up stairs and navigated our way onto the BART - Bay Area Rapid Transit. This was my first subway ride as well (note: this trip had a lot of "firsts" for me, so get used to the phrase) and I think the fact that it was night time and pretty laid back made it a bit easier of an adjustment. I didn't have to deal with the crowds of people that so often pack into the subway...yet. We caught up with each other on the 40 minute BART ride to the Ashby station where Trevor's brother would be picking us up to go to his house for dinner. There weren't a lot of people riding, a few homeless people asleep on seat sections and some single riders minding their own business. A pair of ladies got on at one stop with shopping bags, gossiping about the usual topics. We talked, changing our volume according to the noise level of the barreling subway, we stopped talking altogether when we crossed under the bay; it was so loud we would have been yelling at each other to be heard.

At Justin and Leah's house we played with little Bonzai the cat while they made dinner. They live in a typical style house for the San Francisco area, even though they are across the bay. Steps lead up to four door ways, leading to different flats of the same building. They made us pineapple and shrimp pad thai, the first of many new foods I would be trying over the next four days, and I actually really enjoyed it! We also had a salad of cucumbers and tomatoes with a little cheese and a light dressing, which I liked despite my usual hatred of tomatoes. We discussed food, told stories, talked about the news, and did a lot of laughing. We talked about where we should go the following day, but at that point, all the places that were suggested were nothing but names to me; I had no associations.

We took Justin's truck back to the building that Trevor rents his room in. The whole building is owned by an 80-year-old woman named Audrey, and she rented the bottom floor of her blue house to Trevor. It had a bathroom, a couple of closets, a kitchenette, and a living space with a window over looking Twin Peaks (more on that later). Trevor has abandoned the idea of using a bed after experiencing back pain, so he sleeps on a bed pad with a bunch of blankets on the floor. I slept the same way for my stay, and even though I was so tired every night I probably could have slept on a bed of rocks, I'd say it was pretty comfortable. No better or worse than a bed at least.

I loved his apartment - it was the perfect size for one person to live in simply, but it was also an acceptable place to have people come visit without feeling overly crowded. It was small, but I really liked the whole idea of it. I would later gain an even better appreciation for the quietness and seclusion it offered as a break from the city life.

We went to bed that night with plans to wake up at 7:30 to start our day, beginning at the Farmer's Market.

"Save Me, San Francisco"

I'm leaving today to go to San Francisco until Tuesday! I. am. so. excited. It couldn't have come at a more perfect time - I'm definitely in my "run-away" mode. I get that every once in a while. I just get really anxious when I feel like I've been stuck in the same routine for a really long time. It's a really weird sort of anxiety too, sometimes it can be cured with something little and different from the usual, but sometimes it needs something big - like northern California big. :) Just the thought of being there in 8 hours makes the rest of today even a little less monotonous.

I'm leaving my computer here (I've been off facebook for the last few days anyway, it's been nice), I probably won't really carry my cell phone with me too much...it's going to be a real vacation from cyber/digital world too. I can't wait.

We don't have any big plans that I know of yet. Kind of just sight-seeing and experiencing the city, which I am totally okay with. Monday morning I'm going to the soup kitchen that Trevor normally volunteers at, and I'm really looking forward to that, I think it will be a good experience...and who knows? Maybe it will get me involved in something like that back home too.

Autobiography

I write on this blog all the time - about my life, about how I feel, about what I think. It comes easily, I just speak what's on my mind. But then, I get to English class and my professor says, "We're working on writing autobiographies and creative writing for this unit, begin writing about your life," and I have no idea what to say.

People have pages by now, and I have only one. One that I'm sure to toss out and be left with nothing, again. I don't have anything interesting to say. I don't know where to begin. I don't really have anything that flows together...just a bunch of random thoughts and stories. That's the way my brain works I guess. I don't really think in a continuous strand of thoughts, unless I'm on to something, some sort of big discovery or understanding. Or if it's required of me - like an essay or homework of any sort. But my creativity is not flowing. It's spotty and all over the place and unpredictable.

But how do I turn that into a productive English assignment? A clear idea would be useful within the next week or I'm going to be too far behind to even attempt to make up for all the writing time I've wasted...

I don't know what it is

I've had this really big issue with people complaining lately. I'm still not perfect at not complaining, I don't think anyone is; it's a part of human nature, or at least a part of human's that has been ingrained for so long, it seems natural.

I know I just wrote a blog about this not too long ago, so a lot of what I have to say right now is just reiterating everything I've already said. It's complicated to explain how this change in how I view complaining has occurred for me. I think, the simplest way to put it is I have people in my life that fall on both ends of this spectrum. I have people who lead relatively privileged lives who feel the need to complain about the most minuscule things. And I have people who have been to hell and back and through it again, but they don't ever utter a single complaint. I think meeting the people who fall into the later category have made me reevaluate how I talk about things that are bothering me, or how I look at life in general. And I don't mean it like, "Oh look at this person's crappy life, I should be grateful mine isn't like that." Someone said that too me once and I was a little offended and I didn't know how to respond because that wasn't what I meant at all. It's just made me aware of how reliant I was on this form of outlet, and how easily complaining can be taken advantage of. I do not need to unburden myself of my little problems by whining about them to someone else. I can either keep it to myself, or do something about it. That will always be the case, no matter how big or small the problem.

I guess what I feel toward the people who I'm indicating "have every right to complain, but don't," is a form of admiration. They have mastered or are born knowing something that is very rare - complaining gets you no where so why bother? Yes, talking about your problems and seeking help or guidance or just someone to talk to is one thing and I think everyone should see that as an option, but that's something entirely different.

I think I'm going to be taking a Facebook (a medium where I observe a lot of this groaning and moaning) break soon. I've finally reached the point where more of what I see on there is bothersome than entertaining or informative. I think my time could be better spent elsewhere.

Progress, But Not

yesterday I ran 3 whole miles without stopping. today I ran about 3.6. that doesn't sound like a whole lot unless you understand where I was in terms of running about a month ago. to put it simply, I'm a swimmer. running isn't one of those things that comes naturally to me - in fact, I would have to honestly say that I despised it.

Every time I'd run outside I'd bust out about a mile and half and then be too tired to do any more. then I'd have shin splints for the next five days so I wouldn't be able to run anymore. So I'd wait and try again about a month later - and the cycle would continue. Until I realized the wonders of a treadmill at the gym. It helps me pace, which is the big reason I use it as opposed to running outside. Once I've learned to pace myself on my own, I'll be out of that stinky hot gym.

I'm really proud of myself for being able to run that much - it's not something I ever imagined myself being able to do. It's not like swimming, something that kind of got easy and boring for me. With running I can keep setting myself goals and challenge myself in different ways; it's very un-boring.

It is a little bit frustrating though. I feel like I'm putting in a lot of hard work, I'm making better food choices, but I'm not really getting the results that I've been hoping to get. I'm trying really hard not to get discouraged though. Some days are just a little more aggravating than others. But I've always been hard on myself, so I suppose this really shouldn't come as a surprise to me...

A Handful of Yellow Flowers

I've starting interning in a kindergarten classroom this semester. It was a little scary the night before my first day...I mean, all my life I've thought I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, but the last time I was in a kindergarten classroom I was only ten years old! What if I got to the class and found out it really wasn't what I wanted to do? So much meaning would have been lost for...well, my life to be honest.

But the good news is, I absolutely adore it. I've only been there two days and I am in love with every aspect of it. Yesterday I mostly observed, but today I really got to interact with the kids and it was better than I ever could have imagined. The way they look at the world, the way they interact, the things they understand...it amazes me. Even the kids with the hardest lives back home are still eager - maybe not eager for the same thing; some are eager to learn, some for attention, some to feel important, some just eager for everything - and you can see it before you even talk to them. It's so motivating...

Today I was given handfuls and handfuls of yellow flowers accompanied with little voices saying, "Here Ms. Downing, I picked these for you!" Little ones would just walk up and hold my hand as we walked down the hall for PE. And a couple little girls looked me in the eye when I first got there and said, "You're really pretty Ms. Downing." Talk about a self-esteem boost. It's funny that although other people have said that to me in a different way, I've never felt it to be as true as when I heard it today. It has to do with the natural and unfiltered speech that I know little kids have - they tell the truth, they don't get the concept of white lies or things like that. They simply speak what's on their minds.