I had a very good day today, and I'd like to scribble down a few notes so I can look back on days that aren't so good and remember why it's all worth it.
I got up about 7AM, had 2 very good cups of java and watched the morning news. The news was lame-o, but the rate of my awakening was perfect and by about 8:30 I was ready to begin the day in earnest. I drove around downtown for a while before deciding to head to Trader Joe's for a brunch of sorts. I bought a foot-long turkey/bacon/avocado wrap, devoured it immediately along with an uber-tasty Fuji apple, and hit the 101 South towards Novato.
I drove to the house of a coworker/friend who lives in Novato, hopped in his car, and continued on to the city. (Note: For all you non-Bay-Area folk, the city always means San Francisco. Always.). Don and I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge and hung a left soon thereafter, skirting along Lombard until hitting Van Ness. We jogged a few times and ended up parking on O'Farrell street, then hoofing it directly toward Chinatown.
Chinatown = China. Seriously. Don, despite being Asian, has never visited China. But I have been there 1/2 a dozen times now and let me tell you that the San Francisco Chinatown is about 98% the real thing. Gimmicky stores? Check. Crazy storefronts vending textiles and odd building materials? Check. Lots of Asians squatting and smoking? Yessir. The 2% un-authenticity is a good thing, as the real China doesn't feel so tourist-safe. This safety, in San Fran, is nice.
We found a hole-in-the-wall Dim Sum restaurant and gorged ourselves silly, imbibing a 12-oz Tsingtsao each because hey why not it's Sunday and sure it's only 11Am but let's live it live it! The Dim Sum was unreal. If you've never had it: do. Basically the Asian version of tapas. But with MSG instead of capers.
After that we walked back to the parking garage and headed towards "The Pier", which I learned later meant particularly Pier 39 in Fisherman's Wharf, which is basically the North Coast of San Francisco, overlooking the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge, and Le Isle de Alcatraz. Although that area is beautiful it's a bit too theme-parky for my taste. We hung out there for maybe another hour, long enough to have a glass of wine down by the water and get a dose of people-watching. We jumped back in Don's car, drove along the beach there then crossed the GGB on the way back to Novato.
By the time I drove back to my current abode it was almost 3:45, and although feeling tired and dim-sum-heavy the weather was too nice to ignore so I went out for a bike ride. AMAZING. One of the best rides yet. I headed out River Road through the town of Guerneville and on to Monte Rio. From there I hung a left on the Bohemian Highway, heading south all the way through quaint little Occidental and into Freestone. That stretch of road, specifically from Monte Rio to Occidental, is a blast to pedal. Dense redwood forests and eclectic cabins stuffed deep into the forest.
I hooked east through Sebastopol, exploring a wrangling bike path that dumped me out on the outskirts of town facing Santa Rosa. Said and done I rode maybe three hours but averaged over 21 mph which, given the undulating topography I was quite pleased with.
Now it's late and I am happy. I had an extra-large bottle of Ace Pear Cider waiting chilled in the fridge upon my return and will finish that off before hopping in the shower then off to bed. I discovered that Ace is brewed in Sebastopol, a realization which (not surprisingly) augments the taste in this moment.
later then.
4.25.2010
4.03.2010
Break
Finally a little break in the weather! Since Lauren left (to return to Boise) on Sunday evening, the weather has been foul and dark and gloomy, obviously an outward projection of my feelings at her departure. For that reason it has been an exceptionally difficult week. The job is good and does a great job of keeping me busy from 7:30-5:00 each day, but that leaves me with far too many hours to kill before shutting my eyes for bed.
The trick is mental and physical exertion; exertion to exhaustion. The more I flog myself with work and exercise the quicker time passes, the less time I have to dwell on the remaining duration until this limbo situation is resolved. That quest for exertion, that need to remain busy 100% of the time, is serving me well at my new job. I am ramping up quickly and beginning to contribute in earnest. Now, if the weather would just remain decent, I'd feel as confident about my physical condition. I have no races or competitions of any sort coming up, but I hate letting myself soften. I know I'm neurotic, but there are much worse neuroses out there.
But oh boy, when the weather is nice here, it's the Garden of Eden. I hopped on my road bike this morning a smidge after 9AM and didn't get back home until 2:30PM, having logged just 80 miles in 5.5 hours. If you do the math, you realize that's a terrible average speed, but in those 5.5 hours the only flat land traversed was my driveway. Everything here is emerald green and lush, the grapevines are all in bloom and all manner of critters are out enjoying the weather. I can't count the number of turkeys I saw on my ride... There are innumerable single-lane roads that wind and undulate through the vineyards, allowing you to travel 50+ miles in any direction without pedaling on a major road.
I am beginning to get my arms around this city, Santa Rosa. The hardest thing to find was a coffee shop that isn't part of a chain/franchise. It took about three weeks, but here I am, blogging comfortably at a quaint (one-off) little cafe/roastery in the Old Railroad District near downtown. Now don't get me wrong, I do enjoy Starbucks coffee, or Peet's Coffee, I just hate the cookie-cutter decor and corporate rules enforced. Peet's at least offers free wifi, but just an hour's worth... turds.
Lauren and I swung into this very shop last weekend when she was in town. There was a live band playing, a trio of older gents rocking some decent blues-y tunes. Any time the bass player went off on a solo riff, little Emma (as we've chosen to call her) started kicking/rolling/punching inside L's belly. Lauren listens to music a lot, but I suspect that's the first time our little daughter-to-be has felt such bass reverberating through her cozy little world. I'd like to think Emma was rocking out, but for all we know she was beating on the "walls" in a plea for mercy. She just might hate jazz and love, say, Beyonce. Lord save us.
When you are alone in a new city, the largest inhibitor to integrating into the community is your pride and inhibitions. The best thing to do is throw yourself in head-first, wander around down town, sit alone at a bar and people-watch, go to shows and lectures, join new clubs. But lord no, we can't do that, that's too awkward. I'll look silly sitting alone at a bar. I'll look silly just showing up at a new group ride and sticking my hand out, introducing myself over and over again to total strangers that might or might not give a shit. But... that's how it's done, and that's the direction I need to head. Last night was a good start, as I finally dropped the cowardice and seated myself alone at the bar in a restaurant downtown, called Flavor. The people watching was great, and an older couple ended up sitting next to me and we completely hit it off. In fact, I'll likely be joining them for another meal sometime in the next week. You see? That's how it's done (he says, to himself, the quiet loner sitting in the corner... heh heh).
The trick is mental and physical exertion; exertion to exhaustion. The more I flog myself with work and exercise the quicker time passes, the less time I have to dwell on the remaining duration until this limbo situation is resolved. That quest for exertion, that need to remain busy 100% of the time, is serving me well at my new job. I am ramping up quickly and beginning to contribute in earnest. Now, if the weather would just remain decent, I'd feel as confident about my physical condition. I have no races or competitions of any sort coming up, but I hate letting myself soften. I know I'm neurotic, but there are much worse neuroses out there.
But oh boy, when the weather is nice here, it's the Garden of Eden. I hopped on my road bike this morning a smidge after 9AM and didn't get back home until 2:30PM, having logged just 80 miles in 5.5 hours. If you do the math, you realize that's a terrible average speed, but in those 5.5 hours the only flat land traversed was my driveway. Everything here is emerald green and lush, the grapevines are all in bloom and all manner of critters are out enjoying the weather. I can't count the number of turkeys I saw on my ride... There are innumerable single-lane roads that wind and undulate through the vineyards, allowing you to travel 50+ miles in any direction without pedaling on a major road.
I am beginning to get my arms around this city, Santa Rosa. The hardest thing to find was a coffee shop that isn't part of a chain/franchise. It took about three weeks, but here I am, blogging comfortably at a quaint (one-off) little cafe/roastery in the Old Railroad District near downtown. Now don't get me wrong, I do enjoy Starbucks coffee, or Peet's Coffee, I just hate the cookie-cutter decor and corporate rules enforced. Peet's at least offers free wifi, but just an hour's worth... turds.
Lauren and I swung into this very shop last weekend when she was in town. There was a live band playing, a trio of older gents rocking some decent blues-y tunes. Any time the bass player went off on a solo riff, little Emma (as we've chosen to call her) started kicking/rolling/punching inside L's belly. Lauren listens to music a lot, but I suspect that's the first time our little daughter-to-be has felt such bass reverberating through her cozy little world. I'd like to think Emma was rocking out, but for all we know she was beating on the "walls" in a plea for mercy. She just might hate jazz and love, say, Beyonce. Lord save us.
When you are alone in a new city, the largest inhibitor to integrating into the community is your pride and inhibitions. The best thing to do is throw yourself in head-first, wander around down town, sit alone at a bar and people-watch, go to shows and lectures, join new clubs. But lord no, we can't do that, that's too awkward. I'll look silly sitting alone at a bar. I'll look silly just showing up at a new group ride and sticking my hand out, introducing myself over and over again to total strangers that might or might not give a shit. But... that's how it's done, and that's the direction I need to head. Last night was a good start, as I finally dropped the cowardice and seated myself alone at the bar in a restaurant downtown, called Flavor. The people watching was great, and an older couple ended up sitting next to me and we completely hit it off. In fact, I'll likely be joining them for another meal sometime in the next week. You see? That's how it's done (he says, to himself, the quiet loner sitting in the corner... heh heh).
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