coming home

Now that we have Z into a school, we're thinking of buying a house and setting down some roots. We're not expecting to make this move for some time, though. There's the albatross of our beloved Chicago house. Even with all its sterling qualities, it will not sell at the peak price that we purchased it for. If only I could pick it up and bring it over to the west coast. It's not a huge house, but it was home for a few years and I have fond memories. 

Although we want to live near the school, it's in a fairly posh neighborhood, and housing prices are not compatible with our current situation. So we're tracking prices in adjacent neighborhoods, including the Parkside and Sunset. To tell the truth, I'm experiencing some ambivalence because I spent a good part of my childhood in these areas. I had always thought I'd never live in that area again, and to be looking at housing there is, well, weird. I never wanted to go home, so to speak. But there is some odd comfort in living in the same neighborhood: riding the N Judah, marveling at the stretch of Noriega that's become a micro Chinatown, going to Sunset Super (either location) for my comfort food cravings (fish balls...oh yeah), dim sum and roll cakes to go on Irving Street - and Yum Yum Fish is still there!

My feeling is that we'll rent a humble abode within walking distance (ideally) of school once we rent out the Chicago house and if we find something that works. Like most of the great things that have happened to me, it'll be by chance and very easy. And we can still go to the wonton house on Noriega for cheap, filling eats; the kids dig on the wonton noodle soup.

shifts

Here's the story on the move.

On a whim, I applied for a job in my field for a great company that's located in San Francisco. In my mind, I thought I didn't have a shot since I live in Chicago, and this is not the kind of job for which you would recruit outside of the city. Lo and behold, I got a phone call for an interview that snowballed into a job offer. I accepted it, and have spent the last few months in cold sweats and sudden panic attacks.

Moving is one of my least favorite activities in the world. To date, I have not packed a single thing, though I have gotten rid of bagfuls of random assorted items. I have to confess that I'm overwhelmed. This would be one of the opportunities where a magical fairy being would be really, really helpful.

Z is excited about moving to San Francisco. She's looking to the future. O has no concept yet; it'll hit him after we move. Regardless, it'll be a rough year. I'm fully not expecting us to feel comfortable for a while.

I will say that, as I was randomly driving around Monday evening and cruising down streets that were slowly becoming familiar to me again, I thought, "this is home. I've run away, and now I'm coming back. but not in shame or defeat. I'm not the callow person I was when I left, and maybe I've seen far too much of a lot of things, but I'm coming back as a wiser adult. would that make things different?" I was an angry young woman when I fled for L.A., and I'm not sure how much of that anger has truly dissipated. I know better than to blame people for old wounds. Perhaps I've come back at this point in time to make peace.

home, sort of

We were in San Francisco on a family visit and neighborhood vetting tour recently. You can't go home again, but, seeing the city from an expat's perspective, I understand now why people enjoy living there, despite the cost of living (though you can argue that London and Tokyo would be worse).

What I loved:
- Considerably less traffic than I expected. Now, we drove during non-commuting hours and stayed in a residential neighborhood, but not once did I get the blood boiling sensation I get in Chicago or L.A.
- Great food can be found in holes-in-the-wall for very reasonable prices
- California chill-out attitude
- The cool little playground the kids and I frequented almost every day while we were there
- Dogs everywhere
- All of the renovations going on in Golden Gate Park. The massive Children's Playground at the east end is getting some groovy stuff in. If they still had the equipment that I used to climb on 30 years ago, I would be concerned.


What I didn't love:
- The insularity of the natives (best place to live according to you)
- The pushing out of lower income residents
- Ugly residential architecture
- Goofy public school lottery system
- Overall lack of diversity from a socioeconomic standpoint

That being said, I'd still want to move back if given the chance.

i dig my new job

I started a new job last Monday. Without giving away too much, I am writing and coordinating proposals for an E/A firm. It's corporate, but it's good corporate, meaning that there's a genuine desire to maintain a work/life balance and people generally are well-intentioned.

Ten years ago, I would've thought this was too square of a place to work. Having worked for "cutting edge" firms, I can say that, yeah, I landed in a good place. The problem with being cutting edge is that there is constant, unrelenting pressure to be cutting edge all the damn time. You can't. You just can't. But a lot of people think you can, and therein lies the problem. I'll take less stress in a less glam industry, thank you. I'm treated well, am respected by co-workers, have access to free coffee and water, leave at 5 p.m. and have the option of bringing the laptop home if I need to...not a shabby trade-off at all.

In other news, we're gearing up for our weeklong trip to SF. We've already got a full schedule - brunch here, birthday party there, dinner over that way. I'm looking forward to exploring my hometown with the minis. Not that they'll remember too much, but in a way, I'm sharing my experience as a kid with them.