My Urban Adventures
Coming up on one month, my Betty Bohemian homeless experience has been varied, harried, active and interesting. The final two weeks of December took me from SF to Tahoe to Reno to Salt Lake to Reno and back to Tahoe before I swept into Mill Valley, baggage in tow.
Descending like a hurricane, I scattered a dozen piles around my friend Kara's house trying to piece together what I'd originally thought was a well-concocted plan. Work clothes here, work shoes there, work out gear over there, a bag of undies, a bag of socks, hair/make up stuff in there, coats there, magazines here, sunglasses, boots, scarves, papers, electronics, jewelry, keys, vitamins, ski stuff, bike stuff, check, check, check. I spent the week living like that, pulling from the piles as necessary. It almost made it easier just to look at a pile and piece together my next moves.
My short stay in Mill Valley yielded a few great nights with friends nearby - dinners, a late night run under the outline of Tam, some career counseling. It gave me a glimpse of what life might be like up in the MV with Tam riding shotgun. It was active, it was cold, it was pretty and it was over before I knew it, all my shit re-packaged, more of it dropped off in storage, and my life on the urban road restarted.
There's still the issue of my motorcycle that I'm trying to get to my friend Houston's place to store in his garage. It was towed over Christmas and I spent the first morning back in SF paying fines and tracking it down. But my helmet was at Andrea and John's near the Castro and my bike was down in outer Dogpatch so over a couple of days I maneuvered it to somewhere that looked safe (Potrero Hill) bundling up in my hoodie to make it seem like I had a helmet on.
As the temps creeped up into the 60s today and I worked from home, I was a little bummed not to have my MC nearby for a quick sunset run down to the ocean. Maybe we'll reunite this weekend. I miss not having it with me.
And so, the adventure continues. Here for a month, then it's a little vague, then to the Haight near the end of February while friends jet off to India. Then it's a little vague. Then a long weekend in Whistler. Or maybe that's before the Haight. Kim is off to Hawaii, Bob is off on a big gay cruise, Trish is in Canada for a few weeks - hopefully I'll be able to piece enough nights together through the largesse of friends to get me through March. And if not, I'll be curious to see what I come up with.
Interestingly, being uprooted has left me, dare I say, more mellow? A little? As long time readers and friends will note, my default emotion is irritation. I get wired, I get fired up and words come spilling out of me like (according to Ben and immediately adopted by my Mom) a gerbil on crack. But now, or at least for now, that irritation isn't there. At work, in traffic, when my MC got towed, even when I spent the day skiing Squaw with Yariv and his family who eschewed KT and Headwall to turn slow-moving laps on the slower lifts. All irritation triggers. And I remain, for the most part, chill.
Tomorrow marks the first trail run of the Endurables season and my first foray into professional color care for hair. Girlfriend has to look good. This is vogue homelessness. I think I'm getting a pedicure Monday.
Descending like a hurricane, I scattered a dozen piles around my friend Kara's house trying to piece together what I'd originally thought was a well-concocted plan. Work clothes here, work shoes there, work out gear over there, a bag of undies, a bag of socks, hair/make up stuff in there, coats there, magazines here, sunglasses, boots, scarves, papers, electronics, jewelry, keys, vitamins, ski stuff, bike stuff, check, check, check. I spent the week living like that, pulling from the piles as necessary. It almost made it easier just to look at a pile and piece together my next moves.
My short stay in Mill Valley yielded a few great nights with friends nearby - dinners, a late night run under the outline of Tam, some career counseling. It gave me a glimpse of what life might be like up in the MV with Tam riding shotgun. It was active, it was cold, it was pretty and it was over before I knew it, all my shit re-packaged, more of it dropped off in storage, and my life on the urban road restarted.
(bottle of wine from my fave sister, Brooke. a nod to my paddling but i like to think of it as a nod to my mental strength)
Following a quick detour night at Hepilau's out by the ocean joining Mary, Hep and some paddling peeps for the BCS game and their super comfortable guest room bed, I was up early Tuesday to transport my gear to my new resting place in Laurel Village before jetting down to work. Amelia was off to Malaysia for a month and I was coming in hot on her heels. A little less stuff, a few less piles, but still a work in progress to streamline.
I've been here 4 days now - 2 great morning runs through the Presidio and out along Baker Beach, a walk through a relatively unknown neighborhood, a spin class with Jessica, groceries from the local Trader Joe's - it's interesting how the little routines ground you. Or make you feel semi-grounded.There's still the issue of my motorcycle that I'm trying to get to my friend Houston's place to store in his garage. It was towed over Christmas and I spent the first morning back in SF paying fines and tracking it down. But my helmet was at Andrea and John's near the Castro and my bike was down in outer Dogpatch so over a couple of days I maneuvered it to somewhere that looked safe (Potrero Hill) bundling up in my hoodie to make it seem like I had a helmet on.
As the temps creeped up into the 60s today and I worked from home, I was a little bummed not to have my MC nearby for a quick sunset run down to the ocean. Maybe we'll reunite this weekend. I miss not having it with me.
And so, the adventure continues. Here for a month, then it's a little vague, then to the Haight near the end of February while friends jet off to India. Then it's a little vague. Then a long weekend in Whistler. Or maybe that's before the Haight. Kim is off to Hawaii, Bob is off on a big gay cruise, Trish is in Canada for a few weeks - hopefully I'll be able to piece enough nights together through the largesse of friends to get me through March. And if not, I'll be curious to see what I come up with.
Interestingly, being uprooted has left me, dare I say, more mellow? A little? As long time readers and friends will note, my default emotion is irritation. I get wired, I get fired up and words come spilling out of me like (according to Ben and immediately adopted by my Mom) a gerbil on crack. But now, or at least for now, that irritation isn't there. At work, in traffic, when my MC got towed, even when I spent the day skiing Squaw with Yariv and his family who eschewed KT and Headwall to turn slow-moving laps on the slower lifts. All irritation triggers. And I remain, for the most part, chill.
Tomorrow marks the first trail run of the Endurables season and my first foray into professional color care for hair. Girlfriend has to look good. This is vogue homelessness. I think I'm getting a pedicure Monday.
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