No Nike for me

Damn, my friends and I didn't get picked in the random draw for the Nike Run half-marathon.
I still have my suspicions that it's not a random draw, but that someone decided that I was not worthy of running since I answered 'No' to the questions Do you own Nike+ shoes? and 'Saucony' to the question: What brand of shoes do you run in?

Of course, I will still train as if I was going to run. Of course I will.
Definitely.
Without a doubt.
Here I go.

Saturday

The cab driver picking me up in Castro to go to Mission is friendly and chatty. We talk about the city, the greatness of it and off the bar I'm heading towards. He asks me what I do, and I tell him about my children, my photography course and my blog.
- I want to read it! he says. What's the name of it.
- My life in Hayes, I tell him.
- My. Life. In. Hayes. OK. I will read it.

We talk about Potrero Hill, the fog and the sun, and then:
- OK. So I will read your blog about San Francisco.
- That would be great, I say. I have about 20 readers. I could always do with one more.
- I can make it 21.
- Yeah! My 21st reader! That'd be great!
- I make different log-ins, then you can have 24.
- I wish they'd all do that, I say.
- OK. My place in Hayes. I will read it.
- Life. My life in Hayes.
- OK. OK. My life in Hayes. I have a pretty good memory.

If stat's suddenly get up on my blog, it will be the friendly cab-driver that dropped me off at Mission and 20th, and if not, I forgive him for getting lost.
I should probably change the name of the blog anyway. I left Hayes long time ago.

stooping

- Mummy, can I sit on the porch and read my book, Holly asked me the other day. She meant the stairs, leading up to our front-door. We live on a busy street, so I wasn't keen.
- Why do you want to sit there when we have a nice, sunny garden?
- Everyone else sits on their stairs, she said. Like our neighbours.

It's true. Sitting on your front steps reading a paper, drinking a coffee, smoking a cigarette is a very San Franciscan thing to do. You can kind of gauge what kind of neighborhood it is by the level of stair-sitting action. Generally speaking, a lot of stair-sitting hints a sense of community, no stair-sitting speaks for the opposite - I'm generalizing, of course, but there is something to be said for actually seeing you neighbor and having a brief chat with them at some point of the day, any day. It gives you a sense of belonging and comfort.

In one of his election-speeches (and I only just read this in Randy Shilt's book The Mayor of Castro, so I'm copying from that), Harvey Milk addressed this by saying:

'If we wish to rebuild our cities, we must first rebuild our neighborhoods. To sit on the front steps - whether it's a veranda in a small town or a concrete stoop in a big city - is infinitely more important than to huddle on the living room lounger and watch a make-believe world in not-quite living color...'

So go out and sit in front of your house! Bring a coffee and book and watch the world go by. In my case, that involves a lot of cars, out of breath tourists enjoying the view of the east Bay and some struggling cyclists trying to get up that last stretch of the very steep hill.

Thursday

It is hard to be positive about the young woman in the ticket booth at the Conservatory of Flowers, when you get denied entrance because they won't allow strollers inside. It's hard, but I try to negotiate as positively as I can. So when she says that it is because strollers get in the way of wheel-chairs I ask if there are any wheel-chairs at the moment. If not, maybe I could leave my sleeping Heffalump of a boy in the stroller for the time being.
- I'll take it out if it proves to become an obstruction.
No luck.
I feel discriminated against. I also feel like a mother who hasn't got a clue when the ticket-booth woman says:
- All other parents bring Baby Björn's to carry their children in.
Well, I'm not all other parents. I'm a tired parent with a bad back and a sleeping toddler with terrible two tantrum issues who weigh a ton who happen to want to take some pictures of orchids.
No such luck.

So it can be hard to stay positive.
But I try.
I think: I didn't get to see the orchids to day, but some other day I will, and one day that woman will face the same problems with discrimination against parents, only, hopefully she will have twins.

Wednesday

In this era of new optimism it's no use moaning and whining about the fact that you get completely soaked in water when you try to reach for the kale and lettuce high up on the shelves in Andronico's where they shower their fresh vegetables with water every three minutes.

Instead, just out on a rain-coat and thank the universe that someone is trying to keep the vegetables fresh.

Monday

I walked form my house through Golden Gate Park down to Ocean Beach and back again today. Just for funsies.
It's about 50 blocks each way, give or take a few hills as well.
So-now-I-am-very-very-tired-and-need-to-go-to-sleep.

Bodes well, seeing as I enrolled for the Nike Run half-marathon in October.....

It's just Sunday

The guys selling hot dogs outside the Warming Hut are the friendliest vendors around. It's freezing cold because of the pacific wind but they smile and chat and get you the best hot dog ever. I like when people make just a tiny little effort, it puts a smile on every one's face.

Sign of times

A small sign of recession Downtown: The Virgin Store is closing down and has a big sale on at the moment.
I'm sad. I admittedly buy most Cd's and DVDs on line, but love browsing for ideas in real shops, where I can take my time to actually touch and feel to get ideas for gifts and personal use.
I guess it is because of people like me that Virgin is closing down.

Keeping busy on the old blog

I have started a new little thing in the right column of the old blog, where every day, I will list one good reason to live in SF (all part of the old positive thinking!) until I have listed one hundred!

And who knows, I might find even more reasons than 100.

It's still raining and I keep thinking af the sun

A little wordly wisdom on a Tuesday morning as you're stuck in traffic on Masonic is never wrong, and best of all is bumper sticker wisdom:

'It will be a great day when our schools get all the money they need and the air force has to hold a bake sale to buy a bomber.'

Number 1:

So my first positive thought as a reformed optimist is this:
Yes, it's raining now, a lot, but remember that after rain must come shine.

- And think about how much shine that must be, after all this rain, my husband adds.

Today is the last day before the beginning of the rest

My English friend has decided to make changes in her life and as she is a little like myself, a person who tend to drink from a glass half empty with crusty lip-stick marks on the rim rather than just freshly mixed with mint and crushed ice, she has started to think positive -by having little conversations with the universe. She will let the universe know that she is grateful for the things she has rather than dwelling on the things she hasn't and instead of thinking that she can't she'll be determined that she will. There was also something about an end instead of a journey, I might ask her to tell me about that again.

After having listened to her for about an hour I realized that it all made perfect sense. It's obvious that if you want something really badly you have to set your mind to it. If you start doubting yourself you'll fail. I have decided to take a leaf out her now damp moleskin note-book and do just that, thank the universe, and wake up grateful - and here ------ I would usually write something suitably cynical but I won't. It's all going hand in hand with clean-living, detox, Ugg-boots and smiling at strangers, for every little quirk, I am one step closer to becoming a bona fide Californian.

I should also add that back in the days when we were working together, this English friend and myself have fallen drunk and unsteady out of several un-identified pubs in London, un-successfully trying to get in to taxi's without being able to open the door, we have shared hang-overs and Bloody Mary's for lunch and nearly a decade later, and sipping our green tea and glasses of water, what do we talk about? Well, organic foods, of course, and low-carb diets, green teas, vitamin supplements and how to get the most out of your spin-class.

Yep, it's true, we're both well on our way to becoming a part of this part of the world, and there doesn't seem to be any turning back.
Despite the rain, the chilly winds and no sunshine in sight, this city puts a spell on you, and it won't let you go.

And tomorrow is the first day of my Positive Thinking so stay tuned, because I will of course keep you posted.

A little tourist information on a rainy Sunday

The SF Chronicle has a feature on vintage clothes shopping in Haight-Ashbury this weekend and I would like to underline that the Wasteland is by far the best place for cool second-hand stuff like Marc Jacobs and leopard prints from BCBG. Also, pick up Beatles printed t-shirts for a subtle $15 or a great Debbie Harry print for a not so subtle $48.

I live walking distance from Haight, and one of the best things with that is not just the close at hand shopping but the walk down Ashbury Heights, passing all the beautiful victorians and Queen Anne's houses. This area has some real historic character to it, but if you are only interested in the hippie aspect of the neighborhood, the best thing is to do one of the marked walks in one of all the San Francisco guide books. It's cheesy, but you'll get all the place's served to you on a plate, Jefferson Airplanes and Greatful Deads houses, the Hell's Angle's quarters and where Nureyev and Fonteyn was arrested.

Quite simply, I love Haight-Ashbury and vintage-shopping between Cole and Masonic is a San Francisco must, if you're visiting!

People change ove time, don't they

On December 7, 2006 I wrote a blog-post complaining vocally about the uber-friendly attitude amongst strangers in this city, and how that would express itself even through a happy driver in a car waving to me as I wait on the side-walk to cross the street. I guess back then it made me feel paranoid and self-conscious, making me having to check for runny mascara, spots on noses and so forth.

Two years and a bit later I will have to revoke that blog-post. I will have to completely deleted it out of my existence and pretend that it was never there. I will have to officially apologise to any members of the San franciscan community that might have felt snubbed by my snobbish, European opinions on west-coast friendliness because, ladies and gentlemen, I too am a friendly San Franciscan. I too stop at crossings and smile, and wave at the old man taking his careful yet determined steps out in to the road as he turns to my car to take a look at me through the wind-screen. I too find it comforting and up-lifting and almost spiritual, to be able to connect with a total stranger on such a sublime level, may it even be for just a split second before having to take off in to the un-known.

I say it often, and I say it again, IheartthiscityandIhavebecomepartofit.

Hmmmm....

I had my annual check-up at the OB-GYN and the first thing she asks me as she enters the room is: Where's the pictures?
Uh?
- I wanna see him!
Ah! Pictures of my baby, of course. The child she helped bring in to this world. Of course she'd like to see pictures of him.
See, one thing about me is that I'm a really, really bad mother because I never carry pictures of my children. I have them, never updated, in a plastic holder which never seem to move along from each new purse and bag change that I go through several times a month and so, I never have pictures to show people.
I am a really, really bad mother. The worst.
After check-up, as she leaves, she turns around and says sternly:
- I expect to see pictures next year.
Heck, next year I'll bring in the live version.

Good days make happy people

The first time a European visits a place like the Monterey Bay Aquarium, the chatty, informative and super-friendly volunteers can seem intimidating, and certainly confusing, as we are not used to staff showing such a proud devotion to making sure a visitor has a great experience. But three years and as many more visits to the Aquarium, I love the fact that you get your money's worth. Staff will have tons of exciting sea-creatures to show, and bags of knowledge to pass on. You can touch, feel, dig and ask questions, and anyone who's been to watch the shark-feeding at the London Aquarium knows what I'm talking about when I say that a little communication with your guests to a long way.

It is cheesy to say this, but you will leave the place a little wiser than you were before.
I'm all for it!

Tell me how and I'll buy you a mojito

OK, I'm confused. Got back home from my walk and found a package delivered by UPS outside my door. But this is the thing. The package consists of long metal rails, it's about 170cm long (about 5 feet 5 in American speak) and it was on my porch behind the locked metal gate.
How is that possible?

This is one of the many, many reasons I love this city so much. I'm never bored.

Day x of rain, I have lost count

The man who packed my bags at the supermarket come's running out after me in the parking lot.
- Is this your smoked salmon? Did you leave smoked salmon behind.
- No, I didn't. Thanks for asking though.
- Oh, I tried. Don't say I didn't try, he huffs, and walks back in.

I guess the rain is affecting all of us, in different ways.

...and maybe enjoy this, that someone sent me a few weeks ago, it's still good

It's so slow

Thing you can do when it's raining:
* UK tax return
* By tickets to Bloc Party
* Start a one month long detox
* By music from Itunes
* Come up with great blog posts for an otherwise slow blog due to the rain