French vanilla, you are no longer my coffee/cocoa mate.
Rushing things is a way of making them seem more important than they are.
Thus, I shall quit rushing.
I have a horrible habit of injecting unnecessary things into entirely uncomplicated situations, and thus, making life more difficult for myself.
From now own, Danny will be referred to as “Danzo.” Natch.
Unfortunately, the map David put up in our room remains unblemished. Part of me is too afraid to start writing on it because I may screw up.
Well, mostly I’m just lazy. I have yet to really straighten up the room since we moved here.
Shared the naked lady with Leibs yesterday. That was quite definitely the fastest I have ever seen anyone zoom through a museum, especially one as crowded as SFMOMA.
Meh. There is so much to type about but I’m incredibly lethargic right now.
Many people from my past are popping out of the woodwork. In the last few weeks, even months, people I knew back in high school are resurfacing, which is quite bizarre considering I now live 400 miles away from Carson.
I love hearing from people though. Whether they stayed local or ventured out into the great unknown, everyone grows, even if the results appear minute.
Obviously, I don’t mind the reminders of home. Carson is where I grew up. Carson is the place that nurtured my mind for 17 years. It would be utter blasphemy if I did not acknowledge this.
I drove around the city by myself today. It was quite the adventure. I was certain I would get lost, as I normally do, but I followed the Google Maps directions to a T and arrived at my destination even faster than I anticipated.
Google gave me the roundabout directions to Haight and Central, where my coworker lives. I offered to help her move shit into her new apartment on campus today, hence the lone drive.
It’s a bit funny, but I felt immensely accomplished. Cars and I are usually at odds with one another, but today everything happened so smoothly. I can now find my way home without getting hopelessly lost and talking myself into calling David for help.
As I drove around, I remembered snippets of past conversations.
How it seems that I can almost always feel the fog “kissing” me when I’m walking around Daly City, or how Sara thinks that the Bay Area fog is gorgeous.
I had to agree with her today.
Coupled with the immense greenery I found myself surrounded by, the fog made the atmosphere almost mythical, or fanciful.
The fog here really is quite amazing. Sometimes it seems people can slip into it and never be heard from again. I often think how wonderful it would be to simply disappear like that.
I do wish I could disappear for a while. No questions asked. But I can’t do something like that without some sort of inquisition from a concerned individual.
The apprehension for my well-being is much appreciated, of course. I understand it as well as I possibly could, but most often I feel that most people around me don’t fully comprehend my desire for adventure.
Maybe three people. Four, actually.
I suppose that is more than enough, realistically.