When Richard is away he send me the nicest things (hmmmm...??)

Opera Plaza by night

As my husband is in NY I celebrated date-night by taking myself out to the movies, and since I have no interest in either the A Team, Twilight or Toy Story 3 I picked a little indie movie showing at the Opera Plaza, where I've never been before (it was also the only movie slightly fitting in with the babysitters hours, but there you go).

Opera Plaza is one of those places that God - or urban developers - forgot about. When it was built sometime in the late 70's it was probably a utopian visions (read: gated communities) where both commercial, cultural and personal interests all blend together in perfect harmony. Instead it turned into a drab, grey, soulless and abandoned highrise where you can hear the echo of your own foot-steps between the concrete walls as you try to maneuver you way around it, always ending up in the underground parking garage, no matter how hard you try to stay above ground.
But hidden away, far beyond dried up water features and empty sushi restaurants is a little gem of a cinema showing as close to non-blockbuster movies that you can possibly have over here. It is a great little place and well worth a visit.

Yesterday I was all alone in the tiny theatre seating 24 people. There was no one else in the entire cinema except me, the ticket guy and the old man selling pop corn. As they slowly closed the doors to the auditorium I admit I thought, for a second, that maybe I won't come back out again.
"Mother of two, on the wrong side of 35, kidnapped in movie theatre, no one has seen her since."

The movie was not terribly good, and 15 minutes in, an old lady with her zimmer-frame and carer enters the room, kicks up a loud, big fuss about it being dark, too loud and not really the movie she was going to see in the first place.
I feel a little more comfortable. If they are going to kidnap me at least there will be a witness. Or companion. Either alternative sucks, but at least it's something.

don't try this at home

don't eat a cob salad while you're on the computer, you get avocado stuck under the keys and now your 5 year old lap top works even worse than it did before.
Could I use that as an excuse to by a new one? I have tried every other trick in the book, none of them really justifies the fact that I treat my electronic devices with utmost disrespect.

Weekend slow

What a weekend - both US and England got kicked out quiet badly - but on a brighter note the weather turned around and Gay Pride got to celebrate in style rather than in fog and cold!
I also cleaned up in my garden - that has never happened before.

Beard

There is a bearded lady outside the grocery store, talking to herself and muttering as people walk past her. Every now and then she peaks through the door to the shop, sending little curses over to the check out people.
The beard is full face, trimmed, with grey streaks in it.

- She went to my school, says the check out lady. She used to be very intelligent. And smart.

- Well, f*** you too, we can hear bearded woman hiss outside before she leaves.

The fog, the fog

"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco". Famous words from Mark Twain indeed. And here it comes: the fog, the fog. The fog.
The fog.
With 24 hours to go until Midsummer, famous Swedish tradition with flowers, songs, herring and schnapps (what else?) I couldn't feel less summer-y right now.

Postage and packaging not included

A guy in front of me in the queue at the Post Office is talking to the cashier.
- I never had to ask that many questions when I was working for the Post Office, he says. But that was 25 years ago.

It's my turn. I as to send to envelopes within the city standard first class.
- Is there anything fragile in the package? Any hazardous liquids or sharp objects?
- No.
- Would you like to send it priority? Delivery confirmation, signature confirmation?
- Nope. Just normal.
- Insurance?
- No thank you.
- How about Express? (No) Guaranteed next day. (No) With signature on delivery?
- No thank you.
- First class only?
- Yes please!
- Any extra insurance?
- No... thank you.

I get ready to pay.
- Any books of stamps?
- No thank you.
I hand her my card.
- Any stationary, extra envelopes, packaging products?
I look at her. She's smiling.
I smile back.
I see the guys point.
Too many questions.

On the same day as I do my Green Card medical I get my job status approved, so this is kind of official now: I am part of this country!

Happy Father's Day

As we left the Kabuki Theatre yesterday after having watched Karate Kid, Holly and I experienced and altercation between a four year old son and his father. The son is being carried out of the theater, screaming and crying whilst shouting:
- You are N-O-T-H-I-N-G, daddy! Absolutely nothing.
He takes his father face between his hands:
- You're NOTHING! I hate you.

- Trouble, I whisper to Holly as we sneak past them down the escalator.
- Yeah. And on father's day, Holly says. You should not say that on Father's day.

I did something truly amazing last night: I walked all the way down my street in plat form wedgies!
(You need to see my street in order to understand. It is a pretty long and steep decline.)

Nothingness

Oh dear, oh my, when did I last write?
School's out, and I have given one drop off-pick up routine up for another one, this taking me over the gorgeous Golden Gate Bridge twice a day. Horse camp and a lot of trail running in Tennessee Valley.
And since i am spending my time in Marin, there is nothing to report, because nothing is happening to me.
I mean this, honestly: Nothing Ever Happens In Marin.
If you want to live a quiet, un-eventful life, I suggest you move across the bridge.
The sun is shining, the people are smiling, and shopping takes place in one of the out door malls where you are safe, away from traffic and, well, anything possibly happening to you.

So, in the evenings, I have been drinking a lot wine.
Just to keep things real.

Health and headaches.

Health insurance providers have a lot of power and often like to abuse it. I have been very fortunate with my provider. Not only do they pay out on time, they also seem to cover everything from headaches to small verrucas, but this time, they didn't want to pay up. When I call them to see why one of my claims haven't been processed the lady at the call center tells me that they are investigating to see if I may have filed this claim before - to get more money.
- The only way I would claim it again is to get you to pay me in the first place, I say. I could really do with the money, so please - process the claim.
- Thank you for being a -- customer, she says before hanging up.

I can't help but laugh. They have their phrases down, that's for sure. First she accuses me for fraud, and then she thanks me for being loyal to them.
There is a logic in there, somewhere.

Good morning

It's only 8.20am (or, at least when this happened), and I am already getting my existential flexors tested to the core.
I am in Peets Coffee for pick-me up's, and the guy serving me is about to hand me back my change before he stops and looks down in to the palm of his hand.
- Oh, that's a....whoah - that's a really old penny.
It seems like he doesn't want to part with it. At first I think it might be a foreign coin.
- It's OK.
It's non-committal, but my tone says something like: "it's alright, let's call it even. It's only a penny. You can chuck it away. I don't really need it," but he looks up, with big eyes.
- It's really old. You can't throw it away. You have to take care it!
It seems hard for him to part with the coin. I look at him and say with my most sincere nurturing voice (yes, I can do that, if I really put my mind to it):
- Would you like to take care of the coin?
- No.... you have it.
He looks forlorn, but hands it over to me, along with the rest of the change. I put it in my purse, and I can honestly say, were I took look for it again, I wouldn't be able to tell it apart from the rest.

Meanwhile, the barista is calling out my name, and I go over to grab my coffee.
- Have a good day, he says and looks me straight in the eyes.
- I'll try to, I answer sardonically, referring to the rain pouring down outside in an inclusive kind of: haven't we all just had enough of this now?
The barista stops, piercing me with his eyes, and in the smoothest, most reassuring voice I have ever come across this side of high school PE:
- You will have a good day, Cecilia. I promise you.
It's like I just got a little taste of my own personal Jesus.

All of this just reaffirms what I have been feeling for a long time: even with the rain, you can't take the spirit out of the Californians, and despite the rain, maybe I should go back to a darker, colder place, where you can be cynical and grumpy and in need of personal space before coffee at 8 in the morning and not feel guilty about it because no one else will bat an eyelid.

It's just a thought.

Text

I get a text on my phone:
"Bonne nuit call me when u wake up in the morning"

I text back:
"Who's this?"

"Who s what?"

"Who is this texting? I don't recognize the number?"

It takes a while for the reply:
"Forget u ever got this"

Damn, I thought something interesting was finally happening in my life...

SATC2 - no, really...

Not one to change old habits once they are formed, I am going to watch SATC2 tonight. My official excuse is that it is date-night, but Richard is in NYC so this is the second best thing. Secretly, I just wouldn't be able to stay away, no matter how bad it inevitably will be.
I will keep you posted...

Fog

We had an English friend staying with us for the weekend, he now lives with his family in Sydney. AS all expats do after dinner a few glasses of wine, we sat down to compare old lives with new lives, everyone quick to point out negatives with their new countries, but even quicker to big them up afterwards.
For a long time he looked like he was winning. After all, you can't beat the Australia sunshine, the beaches, the scuba diving, the barbecues, the surfing, the cool animals and being able to lounge about in flip flops 365 days of the year.
But then pointed out: we have the fog.
- It seems to be more than just a type of weather, he said. It seems to really affect people.

Oh yes. Our relationship with the fog is a curious one, it affects us all, determines our mood, our state of being, where we will go, where we will settle and how we feel inside. The dramatic SF fog is a lifestyle and a moderator, it helps us keep things real. It is the reason why suddenly get changed in the middle of the day and the reason why you thought you were hanging out at the beach but instead are eating your picnic in your living room. It's because of the fog that mascara never really, truly sticks on your eye lashes and why you will never, ever leave your home without a big scarf and a pair of gloves. It is the reason for why you add 30 minutes to your car journey because you literally can't see the car in front of you on the Golden Gate Bridge.

I am personally not a big fan of our fog, but I have embraced it, and I am mesmerized by it's beauty as it seeps through the Presidio and across the bay. I would love to say that I would miss it if we had to leave, but I can't. I would quite happily say my good-byes and not look back.
It eats you up from the inside.
It's cold.