Back to the streets of San Francisco

So I have ventured into the Bay Area for the first time in nearly five years.

Quick assessment:

Yeah, in some ways it does feel like a visit home. In other ways, not so much.
San Francisco has not become quite the completely foreign environment I expected from things I’ve been reading lately, at least not its physical form. But it’s on the way.
The pizza at Gaspare’s is still a wonderful thing.
I have absolutely no desire to live there again. Were it not for a few remaining friends whole live there (if only part time), I wouldn’t even see visiting again as a huge priority.

So, about Days One and Two of David’s California Adventure 2015? Let’s go with another pair of bullet lists, starting with Monday:

Uneventful and (dare I say it?) almost pleasant cross-country flight once I resigned myself to a $75 upgrade.
BART from SFO is nice. It was in place before I left the Bay Area but I’d never used it before.
I like my “much cheaper than the convention center and right across the street” hotel.

Tuesday:

Watching Mornings on 2 was strangely comforting.
Damn. The humidity is intense. I went for a long walk this morning and was soaking when I got back, even though it was only in the low 60s out. I don’t remember things being like this when I lived here. Maybe the drought is only an issue because all the moisture is in the air.
There’s lots of construction in Downtown Oakland but precious little visible evidence of large scale gentrification. And my newsstand is still open.
Lunch with my friend and ex-roomie in Berkeley. Good food and I only had to ridicule one patron with a topknot.
Rode back into SF with Dan across the new Bay Bridge. Saw his renovated flat, and walked around in the neighborhood a bit.
Dinner with Dan and Jamie at Gaspare’s, with a stop by Green Apple Books.

Today I will actually be paying attention to the conference I’m here for. My presentation is this afternoon at 4:30.

Long day

5:15 – Wake up. Make coffee.

5:30 – Realize I’m supposed to be at the TV station fifteen minutes earlier that I thought. Shower quickly.

5:50 – Leave the house.

6:10 – Arrive at Channel 2. Sit. Wait.

6:45 – Interview begins.

6:47 – Interview ends.

6:48 – Leave Channel 2. Grab breakfast. Kill time until library opens.

7:30 – Go to work.

10:30 – Leave for oral surgeon.

10:45 – Arrive at oral surgeon’s office. Complete paperwork.

11:05 – Begin examination.

11:07 – End examination. Pay $88.00 to find that my dentist was mistaken and that there’s nothing wrong with me.

11:15 – Leave office. Grab lunch.

12:00 – Back at work. Actually get things done.

3:30 – Start a project that really could have waited till tomorrow.

4:30 – Do not finish said project. Leave work. Drop coworker at mechanic.

4:45 – Home. Beer. Leftover soup.

5:30 – Really creepy movie on TCM.

8:00 – Too early for bed. Too late and too tired to do much of anything else, though I’m seriously contemplating doing at least one more thing that lasts two minutes but requires an hour’s prep.

Ten years after

With all the family drama this week, I managed to miss the tenth anniversary of my milestone departure from San Francisco after thirteen years there. I had originally planned to get all philosophical about it, but the past few days have been really exhausting and frankly I’m just too fucking tired to bother tonight. Maybe later this week. Probably not.

For now, suffice to say that even though things didn’t turn out exactly as I’d planned ten years ago, I still think this move was one of my better decisions in life. San Francisco was over for me; it was well past time to leave. Despite the fact that a lot of really shitty things have happened to me (personal, health-related, and familial) in the past ten years, a lot of really good things have happened, too. I am pretty genuinely happy with where I am and who I am now. And that wasn’t really something I could say in San Francisco.

For what it’s worth, I’m not as fat now either, although I have managed to find some of that weight I lost over the past year or two.

If you’re in the mood, please feel free to relive the cross-country excursion, with all its neon signs, roadside food, and automotive drama.

For reference…

Random thoughts for a Saturday afternoon in a semi-rural hospital setting:

Involuntary commitments done through a hospital are much easier than those you do yourself at the magistrate’s office, but they take just as long. And I very much wish this were not something I knew firsthand.
It takes a special kind of person to be a hospice worker. Seriously.
It’s in the middle of nowhere and visiting will be a pain, but you gotta love a hospital with its own lake.
Way too many people who work with dementia patients cannot distinguish between a crisis and a problem and act accordingly. Hint: precious few things really qualify as crises.