I must post these pictures before they are forever lost.
Life keeps happening here in Northern California, each day fills up with new stimulations and super cool people.
Last Friday morning I awoke with puffy eyes, feeling like crap and in the Tenderloin, San Francisco's shady district. When I say shady I mean like cracked out people taking a dump on the sidewalk in mid day light.
So imagine, Friday night a boy tells me he is not interested apres way too much wine (shitty combo), I awake mascara smeared, fuschia lipstick on my cheeks, not the happiest of campers and I walk out to be bothered by some crazy fools on the street. But, whatever, I am from Chicago, I have thick skin.
I do what I do when the going gets tough, I seek other cultures and spas. Yup, I went to the Korean Spa. There is something so satisfying about relaxing in a bath house with a bunch of non-Americans. You know, where all middle class white people bullshit disappears. It's real in there. No one is crying over the same silly dramas that get us privileged white kids.
I was in a mood, so I went full throttle. I got the 90 minute scrub and massage. First, I soaked in the tubs, sweated in the sauna and then that Korean woman scrubbed everything off of me, and then practically beat me up working the knots out of my muscles, standing on my back with her entire body weight. She covered my face with cucumbers and doused my body with hot coconut milk.
I let everything go at that spa, like what a f-ing horrible couple years it has been dating since I have returned to the US and dated my fellow country men. And dating is awful, I had never really done it until recently and would like to not do it much longer. I let go my awful nights sleep and my shady neighborhood. It's like life on the road, you must look forward, dwelling on upsets will get you no where.
By the afternoon, I was in The Mission, on the phone with Shane.
"I have a flask of tequila and a trombone,"
All was to be alright. We were headed to the Day of the Dead festival and Shane had a trombone!
But first, I had to see Ethan. Me and my Chicago bff's, love Ethan. Well, everyone from Chicago loves Ethan. Some of my favorite parts of last year where when Ethan was in town and now, we live in the same place. There is this bond that all of us who hail from Evanston, IL share. I wish one of you could put it eloquently in words, that Evanston goodness, as I can never articulate to outsiders just how amazing everyone from our town is.
It seems I can go anywhere in the world and meet up with someone from Evanston who I never even hung out with growing up and it will be like being with an old friend. I never in my life feel so deeply understood as when I am with an Evanstionian.
Take Ethan for example, he is a Phd student who was an editor for a newspaper Cambodia and is like some famous origami master who raps. That is so Evanston. And just about everyones resume is eclectic like this.
I digress, though, Ethan and I joined the parade and found his girl's belly dancing troop. We followed the parade of ghouls and ghosts with wine in tow.
The streets where packed with music and people. It felt so European to me. By the end of the night I found Shane who was like a rock star with that trombone. We bopped around to all the music circles and Shane jumped in and improvised eliciting cheers after every solo. I was proud to have such a cool cousin! And yes, I drank tequila from a flask. How could I not?
I danced and danced and felt apart of a community. I can't tell you how great it feels to be in California.
The next day, I ran into Matt in the Tenderloin. Of all the places to run into Matt. We went to school together last year in Chicago and come to think of it, I ran into him on the street there often. I can't tell you how many kismet things like this happen in my life. And I love it as it gives me faith that all the great people I meet will always be apart of my life...
...like, Mikel and Michele coming to town that night and meeting me for dinner. They where in town from NYC for a culinary thing and made the time to meet me. Mikel is a Basque chef who became one of my favorite people when working in Alaska. I'll never forget the comfort and friendship he gave me when my grandmother passed, he hugged me so tight, like a brother, I knew we would be friends forever. And Michele, a traveler, like myself and a super successful cheese importer (and she speaks like a million languages), she is awesome and a real inspiration.
Well, there was some random stream of thought for you. I have been working from 7:30 AM-10:30 PM and writing about the curious little happenings in my life is my relaxation.
Alas, I must go, I have a web site to build and the chanterelles are out, so I must go forage!
xx