OMG YOU GUYS MY BIKE IS THE GREATEST
THING EVER. I cut my commute time to see Ben by 30-45 minutes
(dependent on BART and how long it takes me to push my bike up the 3
block hill near his house). There are two downsides to the bike.
The first is the rock-hard seat. My bottom probably has bruises on
it. The second is the amount of time it takes to chain a bike to
another bike and a pole while riding around the city with Ben. It
takes like at least five minutes, two U-locks and a chain. You have
to get all the wheels wrapped up, plus wrap the frames and anchor it
all down to a post or something. It takes way longer than you think
it might. But it's so worth it to be able to go whizzing around
town. Some of the stoplights are even timed for optimal bike speeds,
which is super cool.
When I left the CW house on Friday, it
was sprinkling lightly. When I got off the BART in the city, it was
pouring. I had wrapped my two bags up in Wal-Mart plastics, so I
looked like a homeless person, but at least it kept my camera and
clothes dry. I can't say the same for myself. By the time I reached
the VS house, my hair was plastered to my head, and my pants and
shoes were soaked. I looked like a drowned rat.
Nora and her boyfriend Phil were
already in the kitchen making sushi for supper. I have never had
sushi before, so I was kind of apprehensive, but it was really
delicious – avocado and imitation crab. I'm glad they didn't do
anything weird, like raw fish. I'm not sure I would have been able
to handle that delicately. We didn't do much else that night, just
stayed in and hung out.
Saturday was spent on bikes, flying
around in the Mission. It's a lot hillier than I thought it would
be, so I was huffing and puffing a lot. Ben, with his long legs and
larger bike, had no trouble at all. We visited Dynamo Donuts (!!!!!)
for apricot, vanilla, maple/bacon, caramel apple, and caramel de sel
donuts. They were all delicious, but my favorites were the apricot,
vanilla, and maple/bacon. Then we went to a coffee place that Ben
had heard was good. There were a lot of hipster kids on their
laptops, writing screenplays and listening to obscure bands. We sat
in a corner and Ben taught me fundamental principles of trigonometry,
which I had somehow managed to skip right over in high school and
college. He was very patient. Our final stop was ThriftTown, a huge
and fantastic thrift store. I found some nylon pants and a
windbreaker for rain gear, a cute knit dress, black heels to replace
the ones lost in the Castro, a long-sleeved shirt, and a backpack to
carry it all in. Ben found a bunch of VHS tapes from his childhood.
That night, we had some wine and watched the A&E/BBC version of
“Pride and Prejudice,” a film that we had both watched multiple
times as kids. I texted Grace, telling her what we were doing, and
she replied that we were far classier than she, because she had just
watched “Breaking Dawn” and was now eating cookie dough with a
spoon. HA!
Sunday morning was spent at church. I
wore my new heels to church, which turned out to be an incredibly bad
idea. ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS break in new heels before you walk a mile
or two in them. I made it four blocks before I had to stop and take
them off and go barefoot. We found a Walgreens and bought some large
bandages, which kept the shoes from rubbing off subsequent layers of
epidermal tissue, but did not prevent agonizing pain. After church,
I barefooted it home, which is not a good idea because people pee on
the sidewalks all the time here. Around the middle of the afternoon,
I suffered a bit of a mental break, mostly because I realized that I
won't get to see friends and family until after Christmas, and that
I've been away from them for longer than I ever have before. I was
pretty upset, thoroughly disgusted with living in a noisy, crowded,
claustrophobic city, and having only like, 10 friends. But Ben
listened quietly and figured out what I was actually mad about
(mostly just hitting the “three month valley,” when all of the
exciting newness wears off and reality sets in), without getting
frustrated or allowing himself to get sucked in to my swirling black
bad-mood vortex. He's a good guy.
Then we cooked some Pad Thai for supper
while I continued to stew. But then Bon Jovi's “Livin' on a
Prayer” came on, and you just can't be in a bad mood for that song.
The house watched “The Kids are All Right,” then I headed home.
It took 10 minutes to get to the BART! 20 fewer minutes than usual!
Love the bike!
On my way home from BART, I saw twelve
prostitutes in two blocks. That has to be some sort of record.
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