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.

neighborhood envy

Today we crashed the playground and library of the neighborhood where we want to live eventually. It's a little posh, but then again, not too much of SF is not posh these days. The big draw is the convergence of three or four Muni train lines at the tunnel that will take you straight downtown - a beauty of a commute. Plus, the library is cozy with a separate children's room, and the playground is smallish but contained and with a bonus grassy field for running with complete abandon.

It's not to say that our 'hood is unacceptable, but having a more direct commute to the working world makes life much easier. And having a three screen  movie theater within walking distance seals the deal for us. When D-Money and I lived in Tarzana, we were a five-minute walk from the local multiplex and a quick drive from an independent movie place in Encino. In Chicago, we lived in Lincoln Square for a while and loved taking in movies at the Davis, which cost $5 per ticket - perfect. If we stayed in Chicago, we would've hunkered down in LS or headed out to Oak Park with its architectural history and - yes, you guessed it - movie theater on the main drag.

Not so much to ask for, right? Will it happen? We can only hope. And play the lottery a little more often.

what I'm pissed off about today

I'm conducting my annual purge the closet exercise, which is all the more urgent given that we're getting ready to relocate to my beloved hometown of San Francisco [more on that saga later], and I came across a pair of dark brown leather pants. They are simple, stylish, not overtly rock 'n' roll, with a slim cut, no pockets, and a subtle boot cut leg. I try them on. I cannot pull the zipper up. I am flabbergasted. For you see, these fancy pants are pre-pregnancy, pre-Chicago, pre-a whole lot of things. They fit perfectly well seven years ago!

Goddamn it.

I'm not sure why I'm even perturbed about it. I've had no occasion to wear leather pants, first of all. I can't complain about not shedding any pregnancy weight gain. I can't even complain about my post-pregnancy body because, yes, things are not as jaunty and firm as they once were, but neither has everything gone to pot. Entirely. I know better than to bare my midriff these days, at any rate. My vanity has only gotten a flesh wound in this instance.

But they're cute on, and it kills me that they will never grace my body with their cuteness again. Off they go to the thrift store [where I found them in the first place] for some other soul to discover.

J'aime voyager.

I've got it in my head that my next off-the-beaten-track excursion should be to Montreal and Quebec City. Many good reasons to travel there exist for these destinations:

1. I've never been to Canada.

2. Chicago is not far from these cities - a two+ hour flight.

3. I can pretend I'm in France.

4. The subway system in Montreal seems efficient and a good way to get around.

5. I need to get more stamps in my passport.

6. It's not terribly expensive overall. Unless I choose to make it so.

7. It would be a recon mission to explore the possibilities of dual citizenship in case I need to flee the US.

I should take a crash course in traveler's French just for fun. If nothing else, learning the correct pronunciation of various words will make it easier to order something with, say, beurre blanc sauce at a schmancy restaurant.

awakening, part II

I'm now getting the itch to be outdoors, rather than indoors in a climate-controlled environment. Spending warm weekend afternoons lounging around the porch and backyard is contributing to my increasing flakiness. My eastward view looking over the Chicago River with representative buildings from every era - from the Lyric Opera building to the Sears Tower to shiny stainless and glass modern fare - doesn't help either.

I've never been much for the outside life. I am not a happy camper, literally; I prefer my nature bug-free and amenity-rich. Now I can sit in a swarm of gnats and not become too grossed out. Fat earthworms creeping slowly toward me is another matter entirely.

I'm even thinking about getting a bike (and those of you know me really well are thinking, "holy f***stacks! pang wants to get a bike!"), and I want one from these guys. Tell me that is not the best looking bunch o' bicycles you've ever seen. Give me the Townie in turquoise floral fade. And dang it, I want a basket in front.

i'm married to whom?

from the files of D-Money:

office conversation turned to who would play whom in a movie. D-Money's list, as decided upon by his staff, was:

• Keanu Reeves (assumption that this is shameless ass-kissing, but personally, I wouldn't mind having a Keanu lookalike around the house.)
  
• Ethan Hawke (spot on. When we first started hanging out together, he reminded me of a young EH, especially in "Before Sunrise".)
  
• Steve Carell (hopefully based on his character in "The Office" and NOT character in "Little Miss Sunshine" - not so much of the gay aspect but more that living with the world's foremost Proust scholar would be insufferable)
  

welcome, mid-life crisis

2007 has been turning into a year of deep thought and decision making. It may have something to do with the impending 20th high school reunion for the class of 1987. [yikes!] It's in October, and I don't know if I want to go. Not because I don't think I can hold my own against former classmates, but because I don't feel the need to revisit a really crap time in my life.

I think a lot about my younger years. I know that we'd all like to go back to our 20s armed with the knowledge we've amassed since then, and we all know it's a seriously flawed construct. I for one am very glad not to be in my 20s anymore. It was a decade of very bad behavior, deep insecurity and terrible decisions. We used to mock the people who whined, "I need to find myself." You're right there, buddy. But a lot of us were lost, trying to straddle the line between being a kid and suddenly being a grown-up with little guidance. I applaud the people who had goals early on and achieved them, but I couldn't (and still can't) think past next Thursday without getting hives. You are not going to ever find me on a 40 under 40 list. But maybe, just maybe, I'll be a wise old guru to whom people go for sage advice. Sitting in my cozy cave on the top of an easily scaleable mountain. The walk to get to me will be pretty and verdant. I'd serve high tea - earl grey, those tiny sandwiches, lemon curd, scones.

The 30s thus far have been awesome. I can always beat myself up for not achieving more, but given my propensity for being noncommital, I've done okay. I can't complain.

So, the 40s will most definitely kick ass! The kids will be older, and we'll do a lot more traveling. If we're lucky, we can take one trip a year, to cool places like London, Shanghai, Sydney. I suppose we should do the Mt. Rushmore road trip thing too. And the Grand Canyon.

It's all about not being static, but changing and going with the flow. I read somewhere that your destiny (if you believe in destiny) is always the same; the journey to get there is the process that's subject to change.

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.

the sort of e-mail that

makes you feel like you're missing something. From a good friend who's going to grad school right now:

"I went to Iceland last week for four days with my studio, and had a
wonderful time there exploring the place and generating ideas for our
theoretical music venue."

Shouldn't I be the one who's writing that e-mail to everyone? Where did I go wrong?

lofty goals

Even though I know better, I like checking my horoscope to see how often coincidence comes into play. This list contains my personal sign's resolutions for the year:

1) Allow true intimacy into your romantic relationships.

2) Open up your friendships to deeper trust.

3) Let new, fiery acquaintances enter your life in time to motivate you.

4) In September, your creativity will reach its peak, in time for you to resolve to accept any opportunity to make your hobby your work.

5) Allow yourself to believe in yourself - as much as others do.

I am completely fascinated by #4, namely because I don't have any hobbies per se.