over the weekend, i topped out over 5,000 miles on my waterford. i’ve had that bike for just under three years now, i believe, and really 5,000 miles during that time frame isn’t that many miles for someone who commutes every day. (i know i recently lamented the not-so-long-ago 4,000 mark, so feel free to read more there.)
having since moved to san francisco, my commutes have ranged from a mere 3–5 miles RT daily (except on workout days, where i can add another 14 miles to that number). and sure, the summer saw a handful of longer rides into sausalito and fairfax, but the mileage just isn’t there. not in a city of only 7×7.
what’s more, though, is i simply don’t care. for someone fascinated with numbers in other aspects of life (how many calories did i burn on the stairmaster-thingy? how many years do i have to work before i can retire? how much money would we need to save to possibly afford to buy in this city?), the number equated with mileage on my bike doesn’t rank on my list of top interests. in fact, i’m thinking it’s time i remove the odometer from my bike and be free completely.
because if something stops to matter, why continue to pursue it? there are plenty more things out there demanding my attention and counting miles simply isn’t one of them.
04 May 2010
i need projects in my life. whether it’s knitting a new hat or constructing a different necklace or figuring out new textiles in the bedroom or hunting for furniture, i need something to occupy my time.
though i love our place in SF, i recently couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that we needed to redo something about it. perhaps it was the overload of HGTV yet again and the dreams of someday owning a space, but i wanted to change something. anything.
i think the origin really came from wanting a proper place to store my beading stuff that wasn’t just under the bed or my dresser. we had no spare storage. then i looked at the black eames chairs in the corner. what purpose did they serve? and what about that bench at the base of our bed? why do we have that? and how come we never utilized the small space above our armoires?
on a whim, naz and i decided to go to ikea on easter sunday (yay for free breakfast!) just to saunter through all the fake rooms. this certainly didn’t help my wandering mind—if we owned our place, i’d totally put a backsplash in the kitchen! and that entertainment center? gone! built-in bookshelves would replace it! and how about some dark hardwoods in the bedroom instead of that dreadful carpet?
oddly enough, though, we left ikea without the purchase of any particleboard furniture or other unnecessary upgrades. our main purchase consisted of plant goods, a few new bowls, and a couple new shades for our bedroom lamps. amazing. stuff we actually wanted and needed. but i struggled with unrest regarding our storage situation.
naz started moving a couple things around, and suddenly my beading supplies found a home. and that bench in the bedroom? in our walkway with some of our most-used shoes. and the coat rack? also in the walkway. that area actually feels like part of our home now, and not just empty space outside our front door. (we benefit from having a solitary hallway that the other units don’t have access to.)
a quick trip to bed, bath and beyond in the sideways rain got us what little storage we truly needed. rearranging some shelves in the bathroom resulted in the discovery of some long-forgotten curtain panels. and voilà! our place looked like new again. i think a few more plants out on the patio and perhaps one in the walkway will be all we need. at least for another few months before i get another creative hair up my butt to rearrange/rethink/buy more crap for our space.
04 April 2010
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
