Tony Bennett claims that he left his heart in San Francisco. Tony Bennett hasn’t tried looking for an apartment in the city.
I’ve known for a few months now that I’d be moving out of my apartment in Mountain View once my lease ended, mostly because my rent is way too high. Since then, I’ve searched online for similar places in Mountain View and Sunnyvale but haven’t seen anything that excited me. Part of the problem is that I currently live in the nicest apartment community in Mountain View – I have a brand new apartment with all of the amenities that I want in the best location in town. Any other place that I rent in Mountain View or Sunnyvale may be cheaper, but will certainly be a worse situation. I will likely lose some amenities and the ability to walk to nearby restaurants and shops. But then again, I could live across from Sun Microsystems AND be greeted by creepy human-sized dolls.
Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t really given living in the city much thought. I assumed it would be way more expensive than living in the South Bay and memories of my 1.5 hour commute from Huntington Beach to El Segundo on the 405 discouraged me from making the SF-Mountain View commute. That was all up until a couple of weeks ago when I visited my sister in Boston. Watching my sister look for parking every night and then attempt to pull a Meadow Soprano parallel parking job didn’t get me excited about living in the city but feeling like we were always in the heart of everything did. During that week in Boston, I had an epiphany that aside from work, I didn’t have anything tying me to Mountain View. I don’t have any more friends in Mountain View than I do in the city and whenever anything happens, it always seems to happen in the city. I’ve walked up and down Castro and there are only so many times I can giggle when passing the sexy cowboy fabric, look at useless crap I’d never buy at Therapy, or make fun of the pretentiousness that is the Buddha Lounge.
Even though I love my ten minute commute, I’m bored of Mountain View. I have no idea where I’ll be five years from now or if I’ll still be in the Bay Area. All I know is that I’m here now and I don’t want to look back at this time in my life and regret not living in San Francisco. I figure I can give it a try for a year and if I hate it or if the commute becomes intolerable, I can always move back to the South Bay.
I’ve been actively looking for places in the city for the past couple of weeks. My lease in Mountain View runs out mid August so I’ve still got a couple of weeks before I can officially panic. So far, I’ve seen seven places in Nob Hill, SOMA, the Mission, and Noe Valley. I’ve seen plenty of scary places, like the place pictured above with the lime green bedroom that only a psychotic would love (this place also featured a poop-brown fireplace AND a view of a sketchy car dealership, SWEET). But I’ve also seen places with awesome views, nifty crown moulding, and brand new kitchens and baths. I’ve even faxed in an application for this place but I doubt they’ll hold it for me until August so my search still continues. The whole process has been both exciting and frustrating. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I find that perfect place and that this will be my last move for a few years. Counting the apartment I had in Huntington Beach two summers ago and the corporate housing apartment I had in San Jose for about a month last summer, the yet unfound apartment will be my sixth since August 2004.
 I’m sick of moving.
10. backchannel IM
09. cereal as dinner
08. grocery shopping at 11 p.m.
07. excessive use of Gill Sans
06. wheat thins + babybel = perfect snack
05. ipod as social “do not disturb” sign
04. laundry at 11 p.m.
03. playing “let’s see how many anorexics I can spot today” at the gym (arguably much easier to play at the IM building than at Club One or 24)
02. knowing more about what my friends are doing through {insert preferred social app of the moment} than real life
01. procrastination
WTF!!! That wasn’t an ending!! You can’t end a series like that!! A black screen?!? What happened? Does Meadow get whacked? Or does the entire family get whacked? Or does Meadow escape and the rest get whacked? The “Don’t Stop Believing” at the end is leading me to think that nothing happened and they’ll just go on with their lives. Tony is going to get charged, Meadow will grow up to defend people like Tony, Carm will continue restoring her houses, AJ will float through one job to another.
Or maybe they just want enough creative freedom to make a spin-off series or a movie.
Any thoughts?
If you’ve been reading this blog, following my flickr photos, or watching my steps on Walkertracker, you probably know that I’ve been working out pretty regularly for the past six months. I find gym culture to be fascinating. I enjoy observing how people workout, what they wear, who they interact with, and how much they actually know about fitness (evidenced by what they’re doing, how they’re stretching, and how much attention they’re paying to their workout). There’s a part of me that silently observes and judges people. I like to think that I’m more hardcore than other people at the gym – I’ve got the fancy running shoes, I wear a pedometer AND a heart rate monitor, I know my heart rate zones, and I *don’t* need to be distracted by a TV. This morning at the gym, I crossed over the hardcore line into the dumbass area. I was running on the treadmill, doing my usual pace, when all of the sudden my left knee was down on the actual track. I’m not sure what happened but I guess I must have tripped (or perhaps I was so exhausted, my leg decided to quit?). I tried to hold on and pull myself up but before I knew it, my right knee also went down on the track. All of this of course happened within a split of a second. While all of this is happening, the track is still running at 4 mph, which sounds slow but feels like 80 mph when you’re sitting on the track instead of running it. The voice inside my head tried to make sense of the situation, but failed – “WHOA! WHAT HAPPENED TO US! STOP! WE NEED TO HIT THE STOP BUTTON! MUST REACH THE STOP BUTTON! WE’RE GOING TO DIE! IS ANYBODY SEEING THIS? WHY ISN’T ANYBODY OVER HERE STOPPING IT! STOP!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!! WE’RE GOING TO DIE!!!! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!!! I TOLD YOU WE WERE TIRED BUT YOU WOULDN’T STOP!!! I KNEW YOU WEREN’T SMART ENOUGH TO CONTROL OUR BODY!” OK, the voice inside my head didn’t say that last part but you get the idea. While my brain was racing, I tried to reach over to the stop button but couldn’t reach it. Finally, my arms and head fell to the track, which bounced me off the treadmill and onto the floor. Not the best way to start your Thursday morning. As a result of the ordeal, I scraped both of my knees very badly. They hurt and burn and seem to like to send burn signals to the rest of the nerves in my legs. In an odd yet convenient coincidence, I had a follow-up appointment with my dermatologist scheduled this afternoon so I had her check it out while I was there. You know your injury is pretty bad when even the doctor shrieks and turns her head away. I didn’t think my injury was that bad (I figured a little Neosporin would do the trick) but apparently both of my scrapes are deep. She prescribed an antibiotic ointment (which I need to pick up tomorrow) and LOTS of bandaging supplies (gauze, paper tape, non-adhesive pads). Oh, and I’m probably going to have scars on both of my knees. Sweet. I’m not sure what I’ve learned (if anything) from this whole thing, other than I’m more of a dumbass than hardcore when it comes to working out.
In the Bay Area, people seem to mistake me for being Persian. Today, I got asked not once but TWICE if I was Persian. I don’t get it. I don’t think I look Persian. When I think of Persian women, I think of Bahar Soomekh, not me. My name isn’t especially Persian — uber Middle Eastern – yes, Persian – no. Maybe it’s because there is a huge Persian community in the Bay Area, people just assume from my name that I’ve got to be Persian? And both people who inquired today were Iranian (one was Persian and another was Assyrian, which apparently isn’t Persian and until today I didn’t even know existed) so they should know better!
Arabs, on the other hand, usually don’t think I’m Arab. I suppose I’m ethnically ambiguous.
I sat down tonight to actually write a couple of blog posts I’ve been thinking about for a few days. Horrified by the sheer ugliness of my blog skin, I decided to put my web design freak on and redesign the skin. I’m happy to report that even after several years of minimal web design exposure, I still haven’t forgotten how to use Fireworks or update style sheets. I’m pretty happy with the end result. I also updated my stale about page and redesigned my favicon.
Of course, user feedback will be duly noted and ignored accommodated. ;)
