Washing, Drying

Warning: this video makes some noise, so if you're at work, you might want to wait until it's safe.

Anyway, I didn't get much done this weekend, which was nice. I have a work meeting tomorrow, for which I didn't prepare, but my dishes and laundry are clean, and look, I installed a bike hook (which was the perfect excuse to go for a little ride).

Now do your dishes!

I Wish I Could Have A Dog. . .

Because, look!

Oh, Good News, For Good

My friend and ex-coworker is moving down the street, just four blocks away, and while that might mean some late nights and dead mornings, I'm just thrilled.

Because people who live in San Francisco don't tend to stay in San Francisco. This city is tough on the bank account, and lately, there's been a mass exodus to Oakland. I find Oakland a bit distant. Though I do need plenty of alone-time, Oakland has swallowed up a few people who are near only in the most figurative sense. Nevertheless, I'm hanging in and on for dear life to my city, because San Francisco sustains me in ways that no other place can at the moment, and a friend down the street will sustain me further.

Which, hanging on in SF makes no practical sense, as my commute to work is long and expensive. But now, Lady Dahlia is moving just down the street! I remember when Ginab was a phone call away, and I remember how willing she was to drive over. Yoga, beer, movies and walks. The weekends, the evenings, the holidays when the town was deserted, me and the prospect of turkey pot pie. . .

I'm overjoyed that San Francisco has strengthened its grip on me. I'm here for good. For now.

Pooped

That's what I am! In fact, I tried to write this one last night but wound up not having time to finish it! But here's what I gots:



I spent Friday with my friend S, who'd bought an IKEA bed but had yet to assemble it, so assemble it I did. S didn't have the right tools. Me, I have things from my previous life that I forgot I even had, including a very nice orange-handled phillips with a reversible bit. Ahhh, how I adore tools!

I was a bit stressed out from my first drive on the confusing highways and byways leading to Oakland. S lives in a low-crime area that seems overall pretty tame, but I of course took the wrong exit and wound up in murderville. So after getting to S's and having a couple of beers I accepted S's invite to stay over, and then the party was on!

Well, a party of assembly, which made me feel good. I like that I can put things together and follow instructions and though I'd prefer knowing that I could build my own furniture from scratch like Matty's cute BF, I felt pretty macha at the time.




The following morning I drove S back to SF and after dropping her off, I changed into something unflattering so I could BART back to Oakland and paint Matty's kitchen the color he chose and that I adore most: PINK! I had a strategy and was extremely methodical and tidy about it, and you should see how I cut in perfectly along the edges of the cabinets and so forth. . . 'Course that was nothing compared to the "sleeping platform" and "enviably designed" closet space and the "desk/office area" and the "entertainment center" that B designed and assembled in a mere week, after work. But the paint fumes smelled good, and pink is pretty!
After I finished the kitchen wall, I slapped some pastel yellow paint onto a metal ladder just adjacent to the kitchen & used, I guess, to access a high alcove that houses B and Matty's oddly-shaped hot-water tank which is designed for a family of ten. After the first coat, B pointed out that the pink-kitchen-yellow-ladder combo comprised a "bad eighties corner." Did he have a point? I cannot say whether or not he did. I was high on paint fumes and happy to be spending time with Matty and B and our best friend Britney, so I cannot say.

All I know is that I offered to come back and cover the "base coat" of yellow with something else on Monday, a holiday, at least for me and the bank employees and those who work at the post office. Which holiday? I'm afraid I cannot remember. . .

Anyway, Matty and B compromised on this absolutely (I thought) loverly shade of green for the ladder, which sort of resembles the green of these shoes, though it's slightly more neon and has just the weensiest bit of avocado in it. It's from the Ralph Lauren line of colors, just like the pink.



But I'm getting way ahead of myself. I spent Saturday, in between paint days, traveling BACK to Oakland once again for the NCIBA, or rather, the Northern California Independent Bookseller's Association. Despite my years and years as a bookseller, I'd never had the chance to go. Yo, I had to wear a badge! It was official! (For those of you who've been, it's very similar to the AWP, except without the writing advice.)

And let me tell you, you people, independent publishers put out, by far, the most interesting books! And you should also keep in mind that your friends and neighbors are more likely to be picked up by independent publishers and sold like hotcakes at independent bookstores, because these are the outlets who care about we, the people!

Anyway, that was a fun time and I ran into some people I knew and I felt like a literary insider. . .

___________________

Okay, all you queens (I picked that saying up from my yoga teacher), my baked potato is just about done, and I have carrots to steam and mushrooms & spinach & tomatoes to sauteee. . .

I'll talk to you soon, I hope. Sorry about the unedited & therefore poorly-written post. If you catch me in a few days, this might be revised a bit and in better shape for readin'.