la la la laaa

When I think back on the year and a half I spent here, I'll surely think about the shops in the Mission and the views from Alamo Square, and about the opera and needle exchange and of course the flatest of flats. But I count myself infinitely lucky that the first things I'll think of will be my FM and my JM. Through ups and downs, loves, likes, extreme dislikes, sickness and health, mountains of snow and mountains of granite, bound solidly together in hatred of the T and love of San Francisco and each other, even when I'm stretching their patience just a liiiitle bit thin.

Love her,

and him.

And this, forever and always, amen.

photo, typo, lame-o, weirdo, no-go, frio

Where's my botany photo of the day? I guess I'm not supposed to expect it till 4pm, and it's only 3:40pm now. But yesterday it came at 2pm. I have only been a proud member of the listserv for two days. It's like looking at another planet, but it's my own planet. I just got an email as I write this but it was something from Mike. I'm pleased to get an email from Mike but I wanted that BPOTD.

Have you all seen Ordinary People yet? It's really excellent, my favorite movie after Moonstruck, which I barely count as a movie because it's more of an experience or a frame of mind. Recently I've been accidentally typing words that start with "f" as "ph" words instead, then looking at them squinty eyed until it dawns on me that I made the f/ph switch again and I fix it. I feel like admitting this because Google Wave is the future so you'll all find out what a horrible typo-committer I am soon anyway.

I'm attempting to come up with a way to keep this necessarily cumbersome conversation fresh and light:

Me: So, uh, I just wanted to let you know that this Friday will actually be my last day, so you'll be dealing with my replacement from Monday onwards, and she's excellent, so no worries, but just wanted to give you a heads up to avoid confusion, so, uh...yeah.
Them: Oh my goodness! Where will you be after this, if I might ask?
Me: I'm moving to AFrica [I always say it like that for some reason - AF rica - and am starting to get sick of the sound of my own voice saying AFrica].
Them: Oh My Goodness! What will you be doing?
Me: I'll be teaching actually [always with the fucking actuallies]! So yeah, I'm really excited, but sad to be leaving here.
Them: Oh wow! Well it's been a real pleasure, and be sure to [insert borderline awful comment about avoiding sickness, being wary of the natives, protecting the local flora/fauna, or not coming back pregnant/shaming my parents here]. And keep in touch, ok? Because we want to hear about all your adventures.
Me: Yeah of course, I'll keep in touch for sure [untruth]. It's been a pleasure.
Them: Ok, well if I don't talk to you before Friday, good luck and keep in touch!
Me: Alright, uh, thanks for everything! Bye!

I know everyone means well and this is exactly what I would be saying if the roles were reversed, but I don't know how to bring these conversations back to the realm of reality. Until my dying breath I will detest the perfunctory, even as I prop it up.

M.F. walks by my cubicle all the time and rubbernecks. There is NOTHING going on in here. I'm just sitting typing away, and he peers through the entrance in childlike wonderment as if I were training a cubicle full of highly functional chimps to mix bar drinks or something. Every time he's out of sight, I shake my head involuntarily and laugh, and for some reason it makes me feel good, to know that he's out there, weird as hell, doing his thing. I do weird stuff too and I wonder who thinks I'm weird.

In an email thread amongst my fellow RW09 WorldTeachers today, someone finally acknowledged that mixed in with all the excitement we've been trumpeting into each others' ears recently, he's also feeling nervous and sad. I jumped all over it with seconds and hear hears, and was quickly followed by the rest of the group. Nice to know I'm not the only one who's feeling a bit overwhelmed at the thought of spending some significant time away from loved ones and loved cities. You know it's all your fault right? You know I love you guys too much to leave, right? No no away I go but know that you've made it damn difficult and that that's a great thing.

It's COLD y'all! So, so cold. I love it because it feels like we're in Tahoe all the time now. But being outside even a little is painful. Luckily the Diller Building can't afford heat so I'm pretty much used to it. How cold will it get before none of us are expected to come to work? For some reason, and I'm ignoring the presence of snow here, as it gets colder things seem to get whiter and whiter for me. So I'm imagining it getting ten degrees colder and the whole world gets about twice as white and bright as it seems now, and as it gets colder and colder things get whiter and whiter and eventually it's all so bright that we can't see anything anymore and we just wrap up pleasant under the blankets and wait for some heat to come along and melt some color back into things.

blog, dave, morning, mum, worst, eight

Almost time for this little blog to close its doors so I return to what I never left which is signing in when my head's buzzing with no clear thoughts and writing what pops up and being equal parts surprised embarrassed pleased that you all give a look in.

Dave walks in and we have a pleasant little exchange he and I. Last week! he says is it? I say and we laugh because god knows I have been looking at this day with the shiny hopeful eyes of the nearly baptized since early June. He gets it and I wonder if Dave knows that he's the only one in this building that kept me on good terms with human kind this year. I'll tell him that before I leave, I'll write it somewhere, because I twist the spoken word too tight.

We got up early this morning and had coffee before work; there was a good amount of time to sit and talk and enjoy the coldest morning I can think of in San Francisco. The ferry and its terminal are crisp white beautiful and the seagulls prance around like they own the place. Having a morning before work is novel and lovely. Feels more like life. Man oh man we can do what we want.

My mom today: "I don't want to sound like your mother, but...". What?

Phoning Mike on our respective UCSF phones is knock-down-drag-out my favorite thing to do at work. When that phone rings and I'm expecting 49755 and I see 53987 instead, my heart does a tiny dance in its own throat and I know I'm in for a treat. I love how the conversations can be about the most significant things going on amongst our circle of friends, or about how he CANNOT FATHOM how phones operate without switchboards anymore, or about me yakking on for three to four full minutes before I realize that he's gchatting with Lees and not listening to me. I love how a 20-minute conversation can end mid-sentence with 'gottagobye' and how invariably as I reach to return the receiver to its cradle I can still hear Mike ranting about friendship and decency and calling me THE WORST. You are! The best of the worst of the best JM.

I started this around 10am today and now it's 6pm. Eight hours is a working day. Four more of these left. Number 9, number 9, number 9.