.

"Another thing I do so rarely is write about OTHER PEOPLE. What a prick! I miss a certain someone, and that is terrible. I wish she knew how I look back on our time together, so much of it was spend in doubt and fear. It's funny, a big part of me wants her here with me. It is strange I feel this way now. Maybe better too. I've learnt to appreciate her at last.

For now though, I'm more than content to be me, to be here now; to be all at once scared and excited, lost and found, changed and, really, very much the same." 01/25/06

I pretty sure I've been lied to, and I'm pretty sure I've had it coming. Starting a new life out here, I've not been completely Isolated--thank god--from happenings back home. I'm happy to be verbally privy to the rumors floating around Burlington: gives me something to laugh about while on the bus. But, this one rumor I can't shake. Maybe cause it affects me and being the selfish asshole that I am, I'm more worried about it. Talked to Emily last night. It was one of the most uplifting conversations I've had. Ever. Here is an individual that I have dragged through a mental hell. She stuck with me every step of the way. She was there when i didn't get into Teach For America, when my anxiety cropped up soon after, there when it lasted the entire summer. She listened to my every perceived neurosis, my every theory of demise, my every though of an abrupt end. She was there to nurture my musical tastes when all I could do is stagnate. Her repayment was bitter... more of a punishment.

There is redemption on Earth, for those who seek it out. There is forgiveness that is not dealt from god nor government. These things you've taught me. There is more to do. There is always more to do.



Now that I've had my dose I can start.


Today, Sunday, I met a potential roommate in a great flat, wandered around a near by park (the Presidio, or at least a part of it) and walked a great deal of the city.

I would love to write that kinda entries that inspire vivid visualization of the people and places I've met and seen. But I just can't. I'm in sensory overload. It gets to the point where I can describe every sense of every moment right now. I can write all that down. Thats the most huge literary copout ever.... I'm glad I thought of it.

So I met a really interesting girl name Karin (thats Karen to us east-coasters) who is renting a room near my work. It is a really nice place, sunny, capacious, tons of potential for me to apply my character. And a nice kitchen. She seemed surprised to see me when she met me downstairs at the front door. She looked deep into my eyes, to the point where I had to avert my gaze. All I can really remember about her eyes was the color. They seemed dark, but had a ring of light pigment maybe blue or yellow, I couldn't look for very long. I don't believe I think she is beautiful. I am just not use to being affected by someone's gaze like that. She offered me tea and we talked about the prospect of being roommates; talked about our pasts and our travels. To my surprise, I find myself meeting many people who've not been to the East Coast out here. I have to remind myself that this is very normal: I myself had not been to the west coast until Nikki invited me to San Diego to stay with her family for a week in late summer 2004. It was my first and only trip to Mexico, thus far.

Tomorrow I see two more rooms, both of which I am excited about. One is in the Sunset, the other in the Hayes Valley--near where I am now. The latter room is in a Victorian on Haight street, kinda in the getto. It's cool though, I walk through that neighborhood at all hours. Interestingly enough, it is mostly drunk white kids out after 12am in the Hayes valley-- apparently all the IV drug users have early bedtimes? Could BE!! And--just as an aside-- I saw a pimp today on that street. He was one of the coolest people I've laid eyes on. Picture this: a black man, height of six feet, dressed in the most luxurious of white fur coats (full length, of course). Underneath this monument to dead Arctic foxes was a three piece electric-blue suit-- in his hand he clutched a matching cane, which he clearly didn't need to walk,but--G'DAMn!--did it make him look, well, pimptastic. Just to complete the mental picture for all of you and to solidify the "pimp" stereotype, a top his bitch-slappin' head he wore-you guessed it-- a matching white fur hat, the kind with a circular brim. It was a thing of singular beauty.