A lovely day in The City.
A cable car Westbound on California Street, heading up Nob Hill from the Financial District.
A view of the bay from Larkin and Francisco.
The North side of Nob Hill, from Russian Hill. I live on the other side of this hill.
I painted the small wall near my front door with chalkboard paint awhile ago; it’s fun to be able to draw and write on a wall. It looked pretty stark at first, but once some chalk dust got rubbed in the color grayed a bit and faded to a nice look:
A friend posted pictures on her LiveJournal of her shower; she has used “bathtub crayons” to write on the tiles. I’m on the lookout for them as I’d like to try it.
There’s something appealing to me about doing art on walls, without actually “tagging” my home.
I love how life stories can be extrapolated simply by looking at photo collections. Looking through the shots I’ve uploaded so far I definitely see visual evidence of my love affair with San Francisco and my interests in infrastructure, sailing and art. Perhaps I’ll start adding some of my older collections over time.
I’ve also ordered some “Moo cards” (no I am not actually endorsing products here) with my photos printed on them. They seem like a much more fun kind of contact card to give out to friends and in social situations than regular business cards. Of course with my regular business cards everyone can be terribly impressed with my super generic job title; oh well!
I met up with someone cool the other day who writes a couple of blogs. One is more professional and one is more personal. We talked a bit about posting life details in a public forum and the implications. I have written here before how the public/private blog balance is a challenge (perhaps I should just blog about that all the time). I like the idea of posting a lot of interesting things about myself (since I am so goddamn interesting, of course) but I know that striking a balance is important. I believe my caution is appropriate, yet I find myself envious of the people who do feel to write more about their lives. I guess my final take, though, is that I’d rather interact with people in real life who want to get to know me than to post everything on a blog and then exist only as a virtual being. Deep, huh?
On another note, I find it completely annoying when people do nothing but complain in their blogs. C’mon people, stop complaining and go do something to improve your lives! But I digress.
My love affair with San Francisco continues. I shared with someone the other day that I am “living my dream,” here, no matter how cliche that sounds. I am really grateful for that.
We’ve had some overly warm days, but once the wind picks up and the fog starts to roll in it cools down and is really pleasant, at least to me. I’ve been here long enough that I a sweatshirt serves as enough of a jacket to keep me comfortable even when it is in fact chilly.
I’ve been riding cable cars more often now that I get a FastPass routinely each month. Sometimes I will do a long walk toward the Embarcadero and take a cable car home, sometimes I just go for a ride because they’re there and they’re cool.
I was mugged a few months ago and since then I’ve stopped carrying a backpack. Which means I don’t routinely carry a camera with me anymore. I’m really missing taking pictures when I’m out and about. I think it may be time to get another backpack (too bad those “man purses” are so ridiculous) and get a new camera. Probably a good excuse anyway since it’s been a long time since I bought a digital camera and the quality is sure to be a lot higher. I’m planning to get a bunch of my existing photos up on Flickr soon and then start building the collection with new material.
Unfortunately the camera in my new-ish phone takes pictures of considerably worse quality than even my several-year-old digital camera. Some shots from the camera phone:
This Southbound cable car has just come up the steep hill from the Fisherman’s Wharf area; the curvy part of Lombard street drops off in the background with North Beach and the bay visible.
This Northbound cable car is about to drop down the steep hill to the Fisherman’s Wharf area.
The busy part of California Street facing West toward Polk Gulch.
I’m off to work shortly, after the holiday yesterday.
I didn’t have a proper camera when I was wandering around Russian Hill this morning, but I snapped a couple shots from my phone. They’re not great, but I liked the mood conveyed of a chilly, crisp clear day above The City.
I just finished watching the entire first Tales of The City series on DVD. I think the last time I watched it was something like eight years ago. It totally reminded me, again, of my own sense of awe when I first moved to SF and how naive I was. Mary Ann Singleton is a character that resonates. I keep meaning to track down Macondray Lane, the street that was the model for Barbary Lane, but haven’t done so yet.
I’ve also been meaning to take another walk around the steps on Telegraph Hill since I finally watched The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill.
There’s something about wandering SF on a weekday, away from work and the crowds, that I find particularly relaxing. Since I’ve moved to Nob Hill I’ve found myself exploring Russian Hill and North Beach more than I ever have before.
Another topic, of much excitement (to me at least), is the “new to me” steam radiator installed in my apartment. The previous one was an unusual “baseboard” configuration and didn’t work right. This one is a regular old cast-iron vertical unit that looks cool and actually works. Everything old becomes new, right? I’ve learned way more than I ever expected to about single pipe steam heating systems.
It’s been a busy time for me lately. The main thing is that I’ve moved. I’m now living up toward Nob Hill. In my nearly ten years in San Francisco, I’ve lived in the Outer Sunset, then in two different places in Noe Valley, then in a highrise in the Civic Center area. Now I’m back in a traditional flat partway up the hill.
Over the years I’ve consistently moved from less dense to more dense neighborhoods. Today my walk to and from BART each day looks like something from the quintessential San Francisco portrayed in movies and on TV. I pass tall buildings and mid-rise Victorians and Edwardians. I go up and down steep hills with cable cars clanging past. I pass stores and clubs, big and small. I can either pass hordes of tourists or stroll down slightly quieter streets depending on which corners I turn at.
I’m much more centrally located now. It’s a short walk up to the top of Nob Hill or down to Polk Gulch. Russian Hill, Chinatown, North Beach and the Tenderloin are not far away. Views of the bridge or views of the bay are close at hand, though, unfortunately, not right outside my window. I feel lucky to still be here in this city that I’ve always wanted to live in, and I plan to stay awhile and continue to put down roots.
