californians are chatty. the cashiers at the grocery store. passengers awaiting muni buses and streetcars. the waitress with laryngitis (!). the barkeeps. the garbage men. the postal workers. the bummies. mere passersby on the street. hell, even our neighbors say hello and offer up idle banter—and i’m not talking simply about the other occupants in our building.
i attribute it to the amount of sunny days here. people just seem more pleasant than most. or perhaps they’re high. hey, whatever works. i’m not here to judge.
admittedly, i was pretty down on our old stomping grounds. when you live in a city 4–5 years longer than you expect to, you tend to get grumpy and restless. and when it keeps snowing and the cold is relentless, you become almost unbearable. so, i’m going to go out on a limb and say this could be reason #1 why i didn’t notice the cordiality of others in the midwest. that, and i just didn’t like to talk to strangers. blame a childhood habit that graduated to adulthood, leaving me introverted almost to a fault.
i’m not saying that san francisco has turned me into this gregarious, life of the party. but i no longer shy away from pleasantries while waiting in line for coffee or at a stop light with a fellow cyclist.
sun. it does a body, and mind, good.
25 February 2010 [2]
and i’m not talking about the state of the union.
ba-da-BUM!
the boy and i joined planet granite at the tail end of 2009, and not for new year’s resolution reasons. naz has been curious about rock climbling and bouldering for some time, and admittedly, my curiosity was piqued as well. since first joining, i’ve put on my bouldering shoes probably half a dozen times, including when i was trying them on at the store. the truth is, i do enjoy climbing up the walls, twisting my body around, hoisting myself further up. what i don’t like is the prospect of falling—i am not afraid of heights—and strangers looking at my ass.
at some point, i will tackle the wall again, but only during morning hours when the gym is dead silent, save for the alternative rock filling the air. in the meantime, i’ve taken to a couple cardio machines and even weight training. surprisingly, i already can see a difference thanks to my paltry efforts. i say paltry because it was only this week and part of last where i’ve gone to the gym with any kind of consistency. the rain and my coughing issues were impeding earlier progress, so i felt like i was starting over.
i’ve never been one to “work out,” particularly when i have to pay to be a member of a gym. the last time i went to the gym regularly was after my calculus class freshman year in college. i had at my disposal the campus fitness center that included decent machines and even a huge swimming pool. but despite all my efforts, working out was no match for my booze intake, so i gave up. yeah, i know. it’s sad.
but since then, my alcohol consumption has dropped significantly; my eating habits actually contain vegetables not drenched in butter or ranch dressing; and my exercise regiment now involves more than opening the fridge or lifting a remote control. it’s safe to say that i was a bit of couch potato. in fact, it’s only been in the last five years or so where i’ve felt in the best shape of my life.
sadly, though, commuting on my bike and walking shaun the dog™ aren’t enough anymore to combat age and a slowing metabolism. i’m not saying i was gaining weight, it’s more that any sort of trimness i had was falling to the wayside. and with san francisco being so compact in comparison with chicago, the commuting alone wasn’t enough.
enter my submission to the gym class. i don’t see myself becoming a fitness guru or trainer anytime soon, but at least with some noticeable results, i have no excuse not to go. and hell, i do enjoy it. most days.
03 February 2010
the last two sundays, for lack of a better analogy, i’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the bed. sure, moving to the sunny climes of california has staved off most of my moodiness and winter blues, but i’m still allowed to be cranky occasionally. i just normally wouldn’t feel it hit so forcefully two sundays in a row, a day when lounging and relaxing is permitted.
my reasons are there, but in retrospect, i don’t feel they’re warranted. i work slightly above 20 hours a week. i’m gathering tax information for myself and weightshift. i’m helping weightshift get set up for the soon-to-launch shop. our apartment suddenly has become overwhelmed with boxes and shipments, so my normal sense of organization has been compromised. and because our apartment is need of a deep cleanse, i ordered a steam vacuum cleaner that i tried out tonight which inevitably gave me allergy-induced coughing. and i’m trying to maintain three workouts a week at the gym we joined late last year—and scheduling time to go has become much more stressful than it should be.
i have it rough. no seriously, i feel bad that i’m bitching about this at all. i rhetorically asked the boy the other day how women who have families and full-time jobs do it. how do they work 40+ hours a week, keep a household running on task, get their kids to respective day care and soccer games, and devote any remaining time to hobbies or passions. his response was “nannies and housekeepers,” which i’m sure isn’t too far off from the truth.
the catch-all, suitable answer, i suppose, is that everyone is different and has varying tolerance levels. in a not-so distant past, i probably could have handled a lot more. but eventually the stress got to me, so i downsized my commitment levels. now my commitments are fewer, but somehow my perspective changed yet again. i’m working on not becoming a total bum, and admittedly i have a ways to go to get my endurance back up. i still don’t think anyone should have to work full time if they can manage it—there is way more to life than cubicles and fighting with printers. i’ve tasted it. and perhaps that’s the cause for my restlessness and pent-up frustration.
deep breath in… and out…
31 January 2010
