California Dream 2000s: The environment, technology, art and design from San Francisco, California, 2000 to 2009.

Clean laundry

It’s 2008!

For the last day of 2007 I went to work, met up with a lunch group, came home, did laundry, called someone and made a date, took a nap and then took the bus to the Castro area to attend two New Year’s Eve parties. I met some fun new folks and marked the new year with close friends and an intimate late night. Then I walked home, enjoying the exercise, the cool breeze and the city lights. The Transamerica building is blinking its regular red light; the multicolored holiday light has been retired until next year. The holidays are over (except for having today, New Year’s Day, off, I suppose) and it’s time to dive back in to the regular day to day.

2007 was a big year for me; I have a lot of optimism about 2008. Out with the old, in with the new, positive choices, making progress.

On another note, my Mac is at the Apple Store getting a new hard drive, under warranty. I hope it’s back soon!

Technology, Travel, Transit, Weather, Work, Design and Social

Travel

I did a small amount of travel over the holidays, both by train and by plane. I like train trips since I don’t have to deal with the airport, I can move around freely while en route and, most importantly, I can bring a laptop and write. Life has been so busy lately that having a day riding the rails meant I had a day to write and reflect. I wrote over 5,000 words on the train, examining my year and my accomplishments, looking at patterns I have been repeating and working out the things I’d like to keep doing and the things I need to change or stop doing. There are some hard decisions there, but that’s what taking an objective look at myself is all about. I was also able to see some amazing scenery and see how the train winds its way down a particularly tall mountain pass.

The plane ride was pleasant; I chatted the entire time with an interesting couple sitting next to me. We had a remarkably broad conversation for three people who had just met.

The silly moment was before the flight, at the security check, when they pulled my bags for a secondary search. I hadn’t even thought that my tube of toothpaste would be a problem, but it was more than the three ounce limit. I think that limit is ridiculous (as is removing our shoes), but I also know that it’s just not worth arguing about. I just quietly said, “okay, you can keep the toothpaste.” The security woman looked at me with compassion and asked if I’d like her to squeeze some of the toothpaste into a plastic ziplock bag so I could have a little with me to brush my teeth later. I thought that was nice of her, though it occurred to me later that since she believed it was actually toothpaste, and was willing to give some back, then why not let me keep all of it? I figure we were both doing our parts to act sane, within the confines of the insanity imposed around us.

Transit

I got a chance last week to ride the double decker bus that Muni is testing out. It’s nice and clean, and the view from upstairs is interesting. The ceiling on the top level is pretty low, so heads will be bumped. The bus itself felt responsive and didn’t seem to strain under the load. I did notice that it has double axles at the back; I’m assuming that is to carry what must be much more weight than a regular bus carries. I’m curious how these buses compare, weight-wise and fuel efficiency-wise, to the long articulated buses that are used on many of the routes.

I think that an electric trolley-bus version of the double decker would be needed here in SF; we should be lessening the amount of diesel burned here, not increasing it.

Weather

Someone recently said, snarkily, that I just write about the weather ere. I disagree. The weather is a handy way to mark changes, and the changes in the weather often remind me of the passage of time and prompt me to write a little something here. But the weather is in the background, helping me set a tone for the limited writing I do in this space. I’d like to think that someone who thinks I just write about the weather is someone who is not really paying much attention to what I’m saying. That being said, it’s 45 degrees Fahrenheit right now. To me that is really cold! I am so grateful for the double-pane windows, the radiator and the new boiler down in the basement, firing with half the gas consumption of the old one.

Design

I’m rooting through my list of art and design projects, looking to pick out a couple small projects I can fit in here and there, scoping some medium projects to make them more manageable and doing some preliminary planning for a larger remodel-type project that may get underway later in the year.

New Year’s resolutions

I actually have New Year’s resolutions to exercise more, eat more vegetables, lower my fat intake, rest more and pay more attention to healthy choices, physically and emotionally.

Steam heat and seasons

The days have turned cold and short. The air is chilly and the sun is setting at some ridiculous hour, maybe 5pm? I was on BART this evening coming back from working on the boat in Alameda, and as we sped along the tracks the darkening sky turned shades of muted purple and burnt orange. I find myself noting the progress of my life by the seasons and the sunlight. This many seasonal cycles since I moved to this apartment; that many went by when I was at the last apartment. But over time they blur some. I don’t remember the rains and the sunlight in the same detail from five years ago, or ten.

Today was a day of time to myself, time to think things through, time to not make any plans with deadlines. Today was a time to just let the day itself provide the flow to me; usually I am driven by the entries on my calendar, the days becoming collections of scheduled pearls connected with strings of sleep that are usually too short and thin to support them all.

I walked down to BART and took the train across. I walked to Alameda. I stopped for lunch and then walked to the marina. I ran the engine, charged the batteries, flaked the sails, hosed everything down, checked the bilge and sea cocks and enjoyed the clear afternoon air. Some other sailboats were out, flying their 150s and spinnakers in the light winds and gliding across the calm water. I walked back to BART. I rode back across. I dragged my weary self up the hill to my apartment. The radiator is on, the space is warm, the music is playing, the dinner has been consumed. I’m online, reading, writing and pondering.

So another Sunday night. The laundry is in the machine, the groceries are put away, the checkbook is balanced and the calendar has been updated.

Into the night…

This week it has been raining. Not a lot, but a little each day. The skies have been dark and down pouring, light and drizzling, clear and foggy with winds and calms and some stars poking out last night as I was walking past Huntington Park on Nob Hill. This catches my attention; I never see stars in the sky anymore. I was on my way back from dropping off a car (from one of the local car share companies/organizations) after dropping off a friend.

On the way back to the garage I had a few minutes before my car was due, so I crested the hill, over the cable car tracks (you can catch air, not that I necessarily recommend doing so), saw the beam flash from the lighthouse on Alcatraz across the dark water.

Late night San Francisco is a place of dangerously fast moving cabs running red lights and generally terrorizing the denizens of the dark. But not the one in front of me on Polk Street. That cab is moving slowly and with intent, scanning the bars and clubs for an outstretched hand and another fare.

Still a few more minutes until my reservation is up. I should have been in bed a couple hours ago; I could have put this sedan away and gone to sleep right after dropping off my friend, but I hate to waste my alloted car time. Next, a stop at the 24 hour supermarket for the toiletries I forgot to buy earlier when I walked to the pharmacy. Three giggling girls are at the checkout counter and the cashier is doing something to make them laugh. I see he is twirling a toilet plunger before dropping it into a bag and handing it to one of them. If I had been behind them in line I would not have been able to resist asking what happened that made them buy a plunger in the wee hours of the morning. I mean, I pretty much know what happened, but maybe the story would have been more interesting or exotic than just that. At this time of night, who knows what might happen.

The store’s parking lot exits on a one-way street, so I find myself going down, then over, then up, then back to California Street to glide into the garage. I am exhausted and delirious and happy and content. The wind and drizzle hit my face, my sweatshirt flaps behind me in the breeze. Three blocks, two stairs, one elevator ride, two locks, one stop in the bathroom and a crawl into bed.

Operation: declutter and organize

I’m totally happy to be making some real progress on decluttering and organizing. Not that my place is some packrat hovel to start with, but it’s amazing how much stuff can pile up over even a small amount of time.

I’ve been reading Apartment Therapy and have embarked on one of the first projects recommended in that book: creating a landing strip. The idea is to have a system in the entryway to deal with coats and bags, to sort mail and to put away things like keys and cell phones. Basically, none of the carry-in items should continue into the living space.

My entryway is small, so I needed to come up with ways to fit things in, with a goal of leaving the entryway open with nothing on the floor. After some searching, sketching and playing with ideas, I decided to (a) use the back of the door for coats and bags, (b) sort mail on the side of the shelving unit next to the door and (c) store shoes on or at the inside wall across from the door.

I found the first pieces to make this plan work at the Container Store. I installed two of their brushed metal coat racks on the back of the door, one at the top and one midway. Now I can hang a bunch of coats, sweatshirts, bags and outgoing laundry (headed to the cleaners) on the door. Nothing on the floor.

I found a solution to the mail sorting problem, as well as a place for keys, phone, etc., at the Container Store as well. They sell a “Fabric Wall-Mounted Magazine Organizer” that has four pockets. I adapted it to mount on the side of the bookshelf next to the door, with the first pocket holding keys and phone (plugged into its charger), the second pocket for personal and social mail, the third pocket for bills and financial mail and the fourth pocket for magazines, catalogs and entertainment mail. Items in the fourth pocket cycle into the recycle bin, sometimes directly.

When I came home the first evening after setting this all up, I was amazed how everything did, in fact, have a place to go and nothing followed me in further. Everything is in a known place to be dealt with and recycled out as needed. It’s sweet.

The last part of the entryway is dealing with shoes. Right now they all sit across from the door; I am still deciding whether to put a regular shoe rack there or install one of the wall-mounted “TRONES” systems from IKEA.

On the decluttering front, I made a pass through my books and pulled out about 25 of them, which I then gave away via Craigslist, and another 20 or so that went from the bookshelves to the storage room downstairs (tech/work books that I’m not using now, but may need again in the future). Letting go of that first batch is making it easier to make additional passes and remove more. It feels really liberating.

I did a pass through the kitchen as well, moving things that were on top of the fridge, or on the counters, in to the lower cabinets. Now the whole kitchen is clear and looks even tidier than before.

Finally, another tip from Apartment Therapy: each week I am buying fresh flowers to liven up my apartment and treat it well and with respect. The flowers add a splash of organic texture, color and scent which adds even more life to my living space!

Building and design

Something very exciting happened yesterday: the new IKEA catalog landed in my mailbox. Say what you will about IKEA furniture — it’s cheap, it’s “dorm like,” whatever — I love the stuff. ~~Some of~~ ~~Most of~~ Nearly all of my furniture is from IKEA and I like that it’s light and contemporary. They have so much stuff it’s easy to find things that work even if you’re an “armchair designer” like me. And IKEA, as a company, professes to be environmentally responsible.

Now my apartment is rather small, so I don’t really buy new furniture much, but changing things up, adding little lamps and things really helps keep me from getting bored in my little space. I go through the IKEA catalog, the DWR catalog, the Pottery Barn catalog, Apartment Therapy’s site and similar catalogs and publications, looking for ideas, subtle things I can change, artsy projects that I can embark upon. My goal is always to avoid adding clutter and keep things tasteful and interesting, with a little whimsy thrown in. Yes, I said whimsy; whimsy is important.

This morning I heard some banging downstairs; I had heard that the unit downstairs was going to be renovated, and sure enough, painting and tiling was in full swing. I had never seen the unit below and it was interesting to compare. We have the same exterior wall layout, but that’s about it. The unit downstairs has walls separating the kitchen, living area and the closet and bathroom areas, whereas mine had those walls removed at some point and it’s a fairly open space. The built-in cabinetry and moldings downstairs are lovely and seeing them made me feel sad that my place no longer has those charms. But I much prefer a light open space to smaller individual rooms. When I lived in one of those “railroad” apartments, where all the rooms were off a long main hallway, things felt constricted. I would like to reinstall molding and re-tile my bathroom someday; the molding in particular would add back some of the missing architectural detail.

The building I live in is interesting, in and of itself. It was built in 1913 and has the standard San Francisco facade with bay windows and fire escapes. The elevator is an open-cage Otis and, from what I’ve found on the web, it’s of an even earlier vintage. I suppose they found it used and resuscitated it when the building was under construction. I think this whole block was built then, part of the rebirth after the 1906 earthquake. We have steam heat and old-fashioned radiators, which are now powered by a brand new gas-fired steam boiler in the basement; it replaced the cast iron monstrosity that finally wore out this year.

Update: Okay, well, I went to IKEA and bought an Ektorp loveseat; it’s the one that is comfortable to sit on and the covers can be switched off for different colors and patterns. So, one of the old chairs has been mothballed to the basement.

NYC Condom

From nyccondom.org: “The NYC Condom is Here! New York City is the first city to brand its very own condom – and it’s NYC to the core. You can pick up your own NYC condom – free of charge – at participating locations throughout New York City.”

What a great way for local government to promote public health. And it features excellent subway-sign-style packaging design:

Image source: New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene.

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