Thursday, July 31, 2008

I miss you my dear San Francisco

There are many reasons why my husband and I decided to leave San Francisco.
First and definitely most important reason why we left: the absolutely horrible weather. To all of you out there that love the damp dreary summer of non stop fog, drizzle and general misery I don't even try to understand your insane type of outlook on life. To me summer is nothing less that a deep golden bronze, preferably gotten laying on the smooth southern California sand but the pool at our condo will do.
Second reason to move the fact that any decent property in that town costs you not only your life savings but that of your whole family and 3-7 neighbors. For our cute and I must say pretty darned spacious condo which is very safe, sunny, and full of vegetation suburbia we could have bout a studio on the corner of crack addict and rape in the worst part of the city. Instead of the smell of fresh cut grass and flowers we would have had the unmistakable smell of bum filth and urine wafting through our barred windows.
Third reason to move: You have to have same insane connection to SFUSD to get a job there. I am not sure why a job there is harder to get than a CIA operative but it is and since i do not have stealth ninja like skills to get a job I had to leave.

Why then is my post titled I miss you San Francisco. Obviously so much of San Francisco I do not miss. Even the shopping here is pretty comparable and parking is always available and FREE!!! Weather much better, air cleaner, better schools, parking, etc. I could go on. But as I was laying out at the pool getting my dark golden bronzy tan I was reading San Francisco magazine. No big deal, usually I hate the yuppiness of this magazine but this was the restaurant edition. OH MY GOD!!! How I miss the incredible food of San Francisco. A place where chain restaurants do not exist. A place where you can get literally anything to eat and it is all so good, so authentic and depending of the place so cheap. I can't even put the difference in words because there are non to compare absolutely mind blowing awesome with okay, boring, run of the mill, cookie cutter type dining. I think that this is the only reason why I even think about moving back to that terrible.
Well that, and all my awesome friends there.

So long restaurant bliss instead of family and close friends we are now only those distant relatives you see once in a while. But when you do the reunion is that much sweeter.

Monday, July 28, 2008

Fellow Snippy condesending writers

So I, in a feeble attempt to regain my writing skills that I have pushed to the VERY back of my consciousness since June 11th I have decided to up the posting. That and I have to redeem my crude, crass, snippy attitude where I make fun of things and generally make witty, if rather desperigating remarks about everything. Top on the list of recent though are my walrus like arms I see in every wedding photo. You are thinking Emily, you look lovely and walruses don't have arms. I says you are just being nice and I know walrus's do not have arms. My arms look like a walrus.

Okay enough self-depreciating behavior. What will I write later in life when I get a neck waddle, my boobs are literally touching my kneecaps, and my arms have grown a walrus family.

I just want to tell you about this great little website called
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/
I read it and think it is genius. I am sure there are those of you out there that think. Hey this guy is painting us white people in a bad light. But come on it is so damn true. I had those unpaid internships because my middle class parents were willing to shell out money for my rent. Not that I don't totally LOVE my parents. They are amazing and I am So lucky to have them but it's true. If I was a poor kid who's parents were on welfare living on 3rd and Palou (SF you know this corner) could I have worked for free. HELL no. My parents would have said. Get a job we can't afford to support you as you work for free.
Every single post I read I agree with. Being a white person myself does this mean I am one of those terrible people writes about. Or one of those terrible people he writes about but can see that and enjoys being somewhat put down and called out for my "whiteness"

#76 Bottled Water
That is so true. I the lone white person at times in my classroom can hardly take a step without my cute Sigg water bottle filled with bottled water I poured into there from other bottles. My Non-white students. Get up and drink from the drinking fountain. I gasp while they gulp happily.
I have become sad and oh so privileged without even knowing it.

True Companion

***********SAPPY NEWLYWED POST ALERT********
So as you all know I got married this summer. (If you are reading this blog and do not know me that is sort of creepy but whatever.) Also as you all know some really amazing friends of mine also got married this summer. Their wedding was like a fairy tale, complete with a nap in a pretty princess bed, more on that later. But at their wedding a good friend of their played and sang a song called True Companion by Marc Cohen. The song is amazing and on constant repeat both on the stereo and in my head. I think that my husband is starting to think I have a serious case of O.C.D. but it has a hold on me.
As I listened to it for the 1 millionth time I was thinking why do these words speak to me so strongly right now. Is it because I am a sappy newlywed who married her best friend and true companion? And then I thought yes, I guess he is. Believe me he is not the man I envisioned married to as as a 8 year old playing wedding with my neighbor. We were convinced we were going to marry tall dark muscly men with Sean Connery accents, who spent all day writing us love letters, sending us flowers and general "sweeping us off our feet" behaviors.
Is my husband my 8 year old vision? 100 NEGATIVE. He is smaller than me AKA the Ethiopian girl with blue eyes, little hair and always gives me a hard time. He has told me flowers die, thinks accents are for frenchy poo fag nasties and is more likely to laugh at my feet than sweep me off of them. He reads highly intellectual books like Dante's Inferno, for FUN while I am reading true trash like Stori Telling. He is the kind of guy that when worried about something turns in and thinks by himself in his man cave for hours about it. So unlike me who, when has a problem, wants to talk and talk and talk for hours about it and get every single person's opinion I know about the issue. He has dreams like hike the ENTIRE pacific crest trail, make 80 bajillion dollars, and live for a summer in truly the middle of no where. My dreams are have a 10 foot force field where not a bug, rodent, or other gross animal could touch me, live for a summer in the heart of Manhattan and sleep in freshly cleaned sheets every night of my life. When he lost his cell phone he was like no big deal when I lost mine we had to drive 2 hours to retrieve it.
How then could this man; so utterly unlike me, so 110% opposite be my true companion. I think that is the answer. My true companion is the person who makes me stretch myself in ways and places I wouldn't. My companion is real and honest and always treats me like his equal. Simply put in the end loves me regardless of time, place, or the hours he has to drive to retrieve my cell phone. In the end I made a choice. Sure I could have spent my life looking for my 8 year old fantasy or I could start my life with this amazing and complete opposite right in front of me. As you know I made the right choice. How do I know it is the right choice? Be he filled a space in my heart I didn't even know was missing.

And as the title says He didn't kill me so we all know he made me stronger.
Okay enough sap. I am sure the surely, unruley 14 year olds will cure me of the saps soon enough but had to get it out of my system.

What does not kill me revived - maybe this time I won't die

So I know I have been the world's worst blogger. I don't even think I can call a paltry 4 posts a blog. Real bloggers have that many posts in a day. But whatever, I am not a real blogger I just dabble at times, hopefully more so this year.
Therefore I am making a pact with my friend Charlie and the four of you that read my posts that this year will be the year. This year I will blog religiously once a week during the school year every Friday. It will be a wrap up of the craziness that happened. But i decided to post now to get out my rusty writing skills and just start writing again so that way by the time school starts I will have at least written something in the last three months besides grocery lists, and reasons why summer vacation is the world's gift from the Gods. Sorry to all of you of which it is not bestowed upon, you really should try it out sometime.