I'm trying to think of a way to describe the past month as something other than ABSOLUTELY NUTS. But there's value in calling it like we see it, so let's do just that. It's our party; we do what we want.
It's October 4, 2015. A Sunday; my favorite day to write. I'm sitting in our neighborhood park, splashed with late afternoon sunshine of the Mission District. Solo but far from alone.
I'm surrounded by the crazy people of this city -- this man who coaxes the most beautiful sounds from a guitar, this golden retriever with a goofy lopsided grin, this five year old girl who toddles along with a bow in her hair, this woman who sits beside me just taking it all in.
In these 31 1/2 days of living in San Francisco, we've learned a lot of things. We're realized that super burritos are basically an essential food group. We've discovered that the rent is definitely too damn high. And we've learned that Dolores Park's colorful vendors (i.e. coconut machete man) are Silicon Valley's most aspiring small business owners. For real, yo.
In the past month, we've housewarmed to the best of our abilities. We've filled our humble abode with friends and family and good times a'plenty. With music and midnight conversations, impromptu guitar and Justin Bieber's new song probably a few too many times. Really, all the things that make a house, a home.
Can we cheers to that? Yes, let's.
I should tell you that after these 31 1/2 days I've lived in San Francisco, life finally feels "right." After years in constant motion, I'm relishing this newfound sense of grounding and (semi)permanence. And I've been intentional about cultivating a home here, both with people and place.
(Side note: I've been less intentional about watering my plants. And let me tell you...that does not cultivate a whole lot.)
For the first time in roughly a zillion years, I created a room that truly feels like my own. If you know me, you know I'm a secret (or not-so-secret) design geek. If you know me, you probably aren't surprised that I spent August handcrafting my own furniture.
And you can probably imagine how adamant I was about creating a room that would reflect my personality distilled in a design. Minimalist, green, and verdant. Vaguely reminiscent of the borderline between Earth and ocean. Like the outdoors…but indoors.
If September was a time warp, October feels like we're finding our bearings. Real life is starting to become, well...real.
It's great, but WEIRD, but mostly great to realize this isn't a summer stint or six month gig. It's crazy to realize that this place, this city, these people, this job -- it's your life now. Ridiculous and messy and imperfect but life nonetheless.
I'm trying to describe what it feels like to be in the throes of a real life newbie. But really the only way I can think to describe it is, you know --