Finding my inner Holden

When I read you can usually find my ipod on my lap, headphones in ears and a coffee close-by. If you ask me a question I'll remove the headphones and ask"What?" You repeat the question and I'll answer. The thing is, there is never music playing. I hear your question the first time but go through the motions anyway. That stuff kills me.

The Choice is Yours

I quit my job at the Chronicle last week. And in my last week I contemplate the decision made. I leave a stable profession with a good income for the unknown. No job only an opportunity. My bags are packed and I'll be headed out shortly. With no certainty of employment, I go on faith. I will be volunteering with Generate Hope and hoping for a serving job at night until a full-time position opens up.

Close to 800,000 victims annually are trafficked across international borders worldwide. I can't continue to wake up daily with only thoughts of myself, my day, and my plans. True love is best displayed in community and not in individuality. Young children are being force into sex and I will no longer sit by in silence. I can be their voice, I can be their courage, I can be their protection. 

Finally pursuing my goal, I vow to speak louder, fight harder and reach higher for these girls. God has given me a passion for this cause. He has used these last few years to break me down and build me back up again into a stronger woman. There is no way this new path will be easy but I've already made it through some huge battles. I defy it to succeed in weakening me.

Did I make the right decision not to wait for a full time job in San Diego before leaving? At this point I'm not sure. But I do know that I'll be taken care of, even if that means eating ramen noodles and pbj's for awhile, I accept the results of my choices.

It may sound crazy. But living a mediocre and mundane life sounds crazy to me. I challenge you to follow your heart. In an economy that is screaming for you to stay put and hold on to what you have I believe that you still have a choice. Make your own journey and see it through. Wrestle with your fears and win. I believe in you.

Your Hands - JJ Heller

Heard this song recently, its words are comforting during all these changes and leaving family and loved ones...

I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That You would take my pain away
That You would take my pain away

I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crookedly lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

When You walked upon the Earth
You healed the broken, lost, and hurt
I know You hate to see me cry
One day You will set all things right
Yea, one day You will set all things right

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

Your hands
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave You when...

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave...
I never leave Your hands

Farewell, Love

As I prepare to leave San Francisco a sense of sadness sweeps over my soul. Like your first love that you never quite forget, SF will be the bar that all other cities will be measured against.

I'll always remember the day I looked up at the beautiful sky at Market and Powell and stared at the architecture of the Gap Building. It was in this moment I knew that I had fallen. I could never love another city as I love SF. Its residents come from various parts of the world, cultures and backgrounds; and yet in this place together, they find their perfect harmony. For centuries writers have struggled to explain this city through pen and paper. I believe many have succeeded in attracting an interest, but like myself, have found difficulty in really describing the city that makes your heart melt the second you move in.

But I will continue to write, through my intimidation; this is my tribute.

It was in this place that I lost my heart to my first love and thought my tears would never cease. It was here that I played my first real song on the piano and found my joy in singing in front of others. It was here that I ran my first half marathon. I have never laughed so hard, loved so deeply, or cried so consistently as I have in this city.

I’ve experienced Murakami, Kerouac and Dostoevsky over glasses of wine in Dolores Park. Explored the follies of capitalism and the reality of God’s existence over cigarettes and $10 Cabernet. Walked the streets of Pac Heights dressed in green leaves as Eve during Halloween and danced to Lady Gaga in the Castro with my closest friend over cranberry vodkas. It's here that I escaped to house parties in the Fillmore with faces unknown and recently met. And I’ve listened to Radiohead, live, in Golden Gate Park through the mist and fog.

Thriftown in the Mission and the perfect tacos from La Taqueria kept me going back regularly to the coolest little hood in SF. Haight Street wooed me with vintage thrift stores like Static and array of attractive men in plaid shirts and Ray Bans. My most memorable moment of boy-meets-girl involved books, closed doors and North Beach. Nob Hill, where I lay my head each night, introduced me to Polk Street, the Lumiere Theater and Huntington Park.

Every day I wake and think it’s just a dream I’m having, and I keep relapsing. But it’s real. Those of us who live here are blessed more than we know. Months have gone by quickly, time has sped up and I’ve aged without realizing it. With each passing day I fall more and more in love with this place; but it is time to move on and find my next adventure.

In the end, I’m reminded that it's not my location that defines my happiness. It's who I meet along the way, the experiences I've been a part of and the inevitable hardships that make me stronger. As this chapter ends I’m prepared and anxious to find what lies ahead.

But quietly I whisper into the wind “I’ll come back for you San Francisco, you’ll never leave my heart.”

her red hair

She sits there in her big red plastic chair. Her hair dyed a paler version of the same red. Brown roots show through her matted hair. Her surroundings go unnoticed as she sips her coffee.


The red walls of the coffee shop taunt her. Excitement. Desire. Love. Reminders of what used to be.


Twirling her green scarf in one hand and clutching her romance novel in the next, her tired hands show a life lived in years far too past. Page by page she travels back to her youth when her hair color matched her current persona . Purple one month. Orange the next. This month red. But those days have faded. Her thin hair now lacks the vibrance it once had, greys and whites now reflect the same dullness she feels inside.


Her white crumpled napkin sits in wait until it is held again. Tossed aside quickly, it knows the person that clutches it has known adventure, pain, romance, passion. Her wrinkles form telling lines of a life well lived. But her secrets will never be told.


She slowly lifts her coffee cup, throws her green scarf back around her neck and heads out the door. I hope today she'll find the courage to start her adventures again; dye her hair green, and go. But she'll be back next week, she's always back. Same time, same chair, ready to return to life only through her books.

"...It's on us"

I don't think any of us really expected the events of this past weekend. But as we curled up on our bed at the Club Saturday night ... some of us in our bathing suits, some in white cotton robes and others in our pj's ... we couldn't help but laugh til we cried over the experiences we shared. Some of those moments will be shared, some will stay between us. It started Friday night with a sushi dinner compliments of Sushi Rock in Nob Hill with Gina and Sarah. Aside from our three rolls we began our evening with a few sake bombs. Tipping our glasses just slightly, we poured in the ice cold Sapporo and carefully poured the hot sake into our little white shot glasses. Onnne....twoooo....THREE! *clink!* We drank our first sake bomb of the night, well two of us did, Sarah enjoyed sipping hers. After a few more bites of sushi and one more bomb we headed back to my apt to get ready for the night.

Our heels clicked down the sidewalk on our way to the Ambassador. A few minutes into the night we ended up meeting the owner. Three shots compliments of the house. We gladly accepted and followed him to our own private booth where champagne was brought out just for us. Adam was charming and personable. Getting to know him and the rest of the bartenders was the highlight of our night. As the last customer exited the bar we hung around chatting with our new friends and exchanged business cards. (As all grown-ups do). A successful night of free drinks for sure.

We made our way back home and awoke the next morning to get ready for Napa. Cameras, dresses, toothbrushes; all was packed and we headed out the door. Arriving at our first Winery (Andretti), we praised the day for being clear and sunny. We met up with Anneliese and entered into the Winery to take our first tastings of wine. Compliments of the Winery, we enjoyed four gift bags and samples of any wines we wanted. Outside we took photos and relaxed with red wine in hand.

Flora Springs was our next winery. Ready for whatever surprises they had for us we met Jason who showed us to our own private wine tasting room. A long table set with wine glasses and orchids awaited us. A character to the core, Jason wooed us with his quirky descriptions of the wines and jokes that we couldn't compete with. "REDS!" we proclaimed, we had had enough whites for the day already. Jason brought in a variety of wines complimented by cashews and crackers. His coworker also enjoyed our company as he told stories of the books he was hoping to write. Unfortunately we saw all too fast that his fictions were not so fiction afterall. We loved him just as well though with his "secret handshake" with Jason that included a gumball machine created by their hands.

Not wanting to leave but quickly realizing much wine and little food was about to encourage the proverbial wine headache we headed next door. Dean and Delucca called to us as we grabbed sweets, cheese and delicious sweet bread.

Peju was next and although beautiful on the outside, they were rude and we didn't enjoy the wine. They won't get a shout-out.

Finally we ended up back at the Silverado Country Club to unload, change and prepare for dinner. Dad and Chef Cuco greeted us in the restaurant and we were prepared for whatever Chef had for us. Chef loves to spoil when we come by, we are his only guests when we are there. Forfeiting the menu choices we couldn't wait to see what he'd prepare. Following was an eight course meal fit for royalty. Appetizer platters, different proteins mixed with various wines, palette cleansing sorbets and chocolate souffle cakes were presented throughout the evening. We were Queens for a night and we loved it. 

Back in our room we found ourselves on the bed like giggling school girls talking of past boyfriends, new boyfriends, husbands and everything that consumes the mind of 25 year olds. Sarah took abstract art photos and we held our stomachs as the jokes kept coming. Finally tired we slept in our beds soundly dreaming of the next day. Breakfast was buffet style with special Belgian waffles, and "on-the-house" by the manager. Treated again like celebrities we finished our meal and took the golf carts out around the course before heading home for the day. 


We made some of the best memories over the weekend and shared stories that we never knew about each other. But it's the moments you aren't reading about that are the moments we'll remember most from this weekend. Too scandalous to post, these will be the ones to remember.

sometimes

Sometimes on long drives I like to imagine I’m another person. In another state. In another country. Another time.


Today I’d close my eyes and pretend the person sitting next to me is my husband. We’re headed to Napa for the weekend. But the destination doesn’t really matter. I’d go anywhere with him. I pretend to sleep (as I usually do on these trips). He knows this but plays along. In this moment my thoughts wander to the first time we met.


It was January. I was in my black jacket and suede brown boots that hugged my blue jeans. My chipped black nail polish had been stuck on my fingernails for weeks now. But I didn’t mind, somehow it made me feel more interesting. I was “much too busy to bother with such little things like nail polish,” I’d tell myself.


Grabbing my sunglasses and keys I headed to Nook where I always went to read on Wednesdays . Black coffee, cream and two splendas. Fumbling through my purse I clutched my book, The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath, and sat down in my usual brown leather chair. The chair was made for me. The tears and tattered cushions made me want to love it more to make up for the lack of care it had been given over the years. The familiarity of that spot comforted me like listening to City and Colour on a rainy day.


He walked in just about the same time I did. We knew the same people, ran in the same circles. But we had never really known each other. Today he innocently joked with me and I shyly laughed. I tried to look much more confident than I was. But my flushed cheeks gave me away.


He liked that I laughed at him. He likes to make people laugh. I liked that about him. We spoke the rest of the day discussing our favorite books, music, and films. I drank two cups of coffee that afternoon. His blue eyes were bright, full of life. He was older than me and yet his enthusiasm made him appear much younger. It started so simply, but in that moment I knew I was already falling for him.


That was ten years ago. In all this time I never stopped loving him. I never stopped laughing at his jokes that only I truly understood. His brown hair swept over his eyebrows and framed his face over the small wrinkles near his eyes. Looking up at him he sweeps his hand across my cheek and I pull my knees in closer to my chest. We’re almost to Napa now.


........


When I open my eyes again, I look beside me and realize we’re almost home. Not to Napa but to San Francisco where I live, alone, in my studio. I zip up my worn out sweatshirt and pull back my hair as I gather my things. We pull up to my apartment and I shut the door behind me as I leave the blue Honda. A small smile forms as I unlock my apartment; I enjoy my daydreams.


Sometimes on long drives I like to imagine I’m another person. In another state. In another country. Another time.

Ray Bans and Vintage Dresses

Sundays are my day. On Sundays I like to have no plans and just go with whatever I feel like doing in the moment. Generally I head to church and then jump on whatever bus will take me to my destination for the day. Leaving church I heard someone mention the Haight-Ashbury Street Fair was going on. Perfect.

I quickly jumped on the 33 and shortly after arrived in the Haight. I approached the front of the bus to exit, purse over my shoulder, sunglasses in hand. Stepping off the steps about a block away from Haight and Ashbury, I took my headphones out of my ears to enjoy the sites and sounds of the day. The sun was warm, the wind was blowing and people were just starting to show up at the street fair. I must have put my sunglasses back in my purse because later in the day I realized I was not wearing them as I had planned. My only regret at this moment was forgetting my SLR.

I headed down the line and viewed the little booths set up by a wide array of people and groups. My first stop was at a lady's booth who made jewelry. She was from Africa. She had beautiful jewelry. Trying on a big green necklace with round circles, I questioned her on the price. "$45," she said. Smiling, I put the necklace back. It was at this moment I noticed a silver bracelet with different colored stones resting in the bracelet. Cash in hand, I purchased the charming bracelet and went on my way.

As I walked I took note of the people joining me in the festivities. Mostly young adults all sporting their Ray Bans (mostly fake) while wearing t-shirts with sayings like "Legalize Gay." Each person seemed to be expressing themselves through their mix-matched clothing, vintage flower dresses and plaid button downs. Each person uniquely the same as everyone else in the crowd seemed right at home on this street. They were 'hip' ... and they knew it.

By 5 o'clock the drunken festivities began as the local bars boasted happy hour specials for the fair. Girls clutching their Stella in one hand and cigarette in the other lined the streets. The men spoke of the recent concerts and showed off their latest tattoos until their fourth beer when they finally got the courage to speak to the "Stella Girls."

As I left the fair I realized that while enjoying a day on Haight is fun, someone like me could never live there. To them I'd be an imposter, to them I'm just another person congesting their street. Oh well, back to my apt in Nob Hill I go.

I'm lovin' you Shaheen

I came across this video this morning and had to share it. You need to watch this. This kid is an amazing singer. He is my hero. He made my morning. I feel somewhat revived and impulsive now. He's 12 and just rocked that stage. Maybe I'll try to get my second tat today...or something fun.

Thanks Shaheen.

Morning Saturday...glad you are here. :)

My Laundry Room Romance

Good Morning. :)

Last night I got to live out a minor fantasy. Ok so I understand how completely absurd this is but ... I always glamorized the idea of doing laundry in a laundromat. I always loved watching shows where they would lug their laundry in and sit on the washers waiting for their clothes to be done. I felt like it could be a cool way to meet people. Now I know I'm a surrealist in many ways but things like this just make me happy.

So, while I didn't meet anyone I really did enjoy myself. I walked in, put my $5 in the change machine and got my 19 quarters back...yep, 19, not sure why they don't give 20 quarters, oh the city. I put in my two loads, sat down on the orange and yellow 50s style plastic chairs, and threw my feet on top of a few of them and opened my book to read. Just as I was about to rejoin Raskolnikov's journey to freedom my best friend Chris called.

Perfect. I always like talking to Chris. He's like the older brother I never had except we are much closer I think than if we really were related. We fight at times like siblings and it always makes me laugh how intense he gets. While my clothes were twirling around in the water and bubbles, Chris and I were able to plan our road trip to Portland. Chris and I have the same taste in music. I think the best part of the trip will be the car ride there. We will most likely fight about it and I will try to convince him to play my ipod and after a few sarcastic words from him I'll win. So our plan is to drive to Oregon and walk around the town he was from then head over to see his sister Tiffany in Portland. While there it's all about eating good food, going to a concert, taking sweet photos and breathing in the wonderful Oregon air.

Tiff and I are kindred spirits. We became sisters almost immediately. We've never actually met but I know she will be a life-long friend. Our souls connect. <3

So eventually my load finished up in the large dryer and I grabbed my warm clean t-shirts, undies and socks to my apt to fold them. Walking down California St. to my apartment, I smiled to myself and quietly chuckled because I realized I finally had the opportunity to do my laundry in a laundromat.

Sometimes there is more beauty in the mundane than you realize. Just don't forget to look.

Discouraging Times

I met with an old Elementary school friend today for lunch. Turns out she works in the city as well at Conde Nast Publishing. As we met we got to talking about our jobs. She is in the same type of position as I am in my job. We are both in the advertising department.

While we both enjoy our industry ... we realize it's slowly dying. And really, we are not excited to move into Account Managers and stay in Sales.

So what do we do? Finding a job is almost impossible at this point. And if we want to remain living in the Bay Area, the salary we get has to match what we make now. It's so crazy to me that we, like so many others, are so unhappy in our jobs. But we feel helpless. It's discouraging and at the same time we feel lucky to even have jobs.

Big sighs from 20 somethings right now looking for their place in today's economy. I say we all quit our jobs, strap on backpacks, bring our cameras and head out to the open country in search of new adventures.

I'm a dreamer.

Apt with the Red Gate

Well...I did it. it's been a little over a week since I moved into my new place in SF. So I think I fell in love with being here the Sunday after I moved in. I walked over to North Beach and met up with some friends to read for a bit at City Lights Bookstore. Then we just decided to walk around and headed to Union Square to do some shopping then back over to North Beach and finally home.

We then grabbed a beer at Zeki's right next door to my apt and then headed to the Haight. I know everyone tries Hookah during their college years but I'm a little late on this. I never really had the urge to go even though all my college friends would go. So we went to a Mediterranean Restaurant there and ate delicious food and I had hookah for the first time. I'm not gonna lie. I sucked at it. 

It was my first real day as an SF resident and it was delightful. Fast forward to a few nights in. One major problem with my apt is that it is on California street where the cable car runs. I can live with the sounds of the bell ringing as it passes but the noise that I may not get used to will be the garbage man picking up the trash at 5:30 a.m. daily! Thanks for keeping our streets clean but c'mon once a day? Is this necessary? My window faces the street so I get the pleasure of hearing the loud truck pick up each and every trash can.

Then again...that is probably the only thing that is hard to get used to in the new place. That and the fact that it is freezing in SF at night! Brr. Here's to the next nine months in Nob Hill. I can't wait to get to know this city more intimately in the coming months. I heart SF.

tuesday

daydreaming today

BART moments

I guess it was right between reading about Raskolinov's dream of being found out in Crime & Punishment, hearing "La Corde" by Yann Tiersen, and watching life pass by me on BART when I suddenly realized how surreal the moment was. Do you ever take time to just sit silently and reflect on your life?

Life passes by so quickly. It seems like there is always something new. New friends. New faces. New locations. New jobs.

Maybe I don't know where I'm supposed to be. I don't know what job I'm meant for. I don't know if I'll ever get meet anyone to drink coffee with me every morning at my kitchen table. But I do know who I am today. I know I'm not who I was yesterday. I'm not who I am going to be tomorrow. But for today, you just get me. I'm always learning about myself and that's exciting but at my core I am God's. And that's kind of a relief. It's something I can count on.

I apologize for the sudden after-school special but you know...suck it up. ;)
Hmmm Yann Tiersen.
Inspired.

sometimes the day calls for a long hug.
today is one of those days...this week is one of those weeks.

leaning on God for all my answers is sometimes hardest when
i feel like everything around me is so uncertain.

...

tomorrow is another day.

Esther Greenwood

So I finished The Bell Jar last Sunday and found myself completely intrigued by Esther Greenwood's thoughts and life. I felt like Plath was writing about me through Esther and could read my thoughts on life at times. Sometimes the conventionalism of life seems so silly to me and I question the things considered "normal" in society.

I loved how Esther's thoughts were more real and "normal" than the thoughts and actions of the people in her world. I find myself quietly watching the world wondering if this is how it's supposed to be. Why do we constantly sweat the small stuff that in the end is meaningless? Do people live their lives in fear of being themselves because of how they will be viewed?

I think it was an interesting view of society and the struggle of women in America. It also gives us a look into Plath's thought life which is interesting because of her own suicide. In the end...I'd say I really enjoyed The Bell Jar and would highly recommend it. Now onto Crime and Punishment...we'll see what Dostoevsky has for me.

I've decided to read more. I want to read the classics and spend my free time getting lost in books I overlooked in highschool and college to spend more time out with friends. My new favorite place to read...City Lights Bookstore in Northbeach. I love that place.

On my list so far:

City and Colour Concert

Slim's, located South of the Market district of San Francisco, opened in 1988 by R&B artist Boz Scaggs. Live music is played against a backdrop of a New Orleans's Manor complete with brick walls and chandeliers. This was the setting of City and Colour's first SF show on 1/27.

I was immediately surprised by the line outside of Slim's at 7:15 almost the length of the building. By 8 p.m. the line curved around the side. For a band who's ticket's sold for $15 a piece you would hardly imagine such a turnout.

Skinny jeans, scarves, v-neck t-shirts, and ballet flats were in high fashion for the women amongst men dressed in – well, the same. Inside I quickly found my way to the left front directly in front of Green's mic. To my right, a Kat Von D look-alike sharing with everyone her troubles with weed. And although she would love to smoke it, it messes up her body. This is news? 

Behind me, three teenagers bent on being the loudest in the club giggling and snapping photos from every angle. I immediately regretted my decision to leave my ipod in my purse.

Finally making their way on stage around 10 p.m. after opening act William Elliot Whitmore, City and Colour's Dallas Green opened the set with "Sleeping Sickness." Tattoos covering his arms and neck, Green stood on stage with Dwight Schrute glasses adorning his face, a light blue button-down shirt and "tube" (beanie) atop his head.

Switching between old and new, Green brilliantly played through a two-hour set and still left his fans hoping for more. As he played through songs from "Sometimes," Green added new rifts and sped up the tempo because "I hate those songs I wrote them like 15 years ago," murmured Green.

Half-way through the night Green's band left as he strummed through a few songs on his own. Best song of the night – "What Makes a Man?" As he sang the crowd, backed him up singing the back-up vocals heard in his album. "What makes a man? What makes a man? What makes a man? " With eyes closed, a large smile formed on his face as he continued the lead vocals.

We later found out that while he always assumes the audience knows what he wants them to do they have never echoed the backup vocals during a tour. He praised SF. I felt proud.

Since Green's first album "Sometimes," it is obvious that Green has redefined himself and his music. "Sometimes" played through melodic ballads with wispy vocals; the perfect setting for a rainy day drive. In "Bring Me Your Love," Green enters into a more rock-oriented acoustic sound that not only enhances his music but shows his versatility. While two very different albums, "Bring Me Your Love" is just as impressive.

City and Colour ended their night with an encore as most bands do. Green laughed at the idea of an encore saying "I don't get the idea of an encore, what's the point of me leaving the stage for 30 seconds then coming back to play? I'm not Bono."

While he's not saving Africa by each concert played...we still appreciated the extra songs. Overall the concert was one of my favorite by far.

my bags are packed

I guess I knew after my first trip to Costa Rica that I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. I wanted to travel and experience life but I wanted to help people who were suffering. In highschool I never fully understood what that would mean for my life or where it would lead.

Throughout highschool and college I went on many mission trips and led a few of them as well. I always found my strength as a leader when I was on those trips. I knew that I was at my best when I was serving others in other countries.

So now...I'm 25 and I'm sitting in a cubicle working as someone's assistant. When I was getting my degree in journalism I'd always hoped it would be to write about issues that our world is facing, i.e. social injustice specifically in third world countries. I wanted to be their voice.

While I haven't found the right opportunity yet, I think that God is once again tugging at my heart and calling me to a life fully surrendered to Him. At this time I would be willing to go where He calls. The problem is I have no idea where He is leading me. Should I stay in Cali? in the U.S.? In another country...which country?

There are so many unanswered questions and I know that I need to just be silent and pray. God will show me in His own time. I guess I've never been a patient person and I've moved around alot since college never really finding my niche. I love SF but I realize the comfort of this place is nice but I was meant for more. God gave me a heart for his hurting people. I can't sit back any more with closed eyes and ears.

These are some organizations that I have been looking at:

http://www.ijm.org/
http://www.chabdai.org/Home.html
http://providenceworldministries.org/
http://www.invisiblechildren.com/home.php


I trust God will direct me to where He wants me to be when the time is right. I'm ready. My bags are packed.

1000 journals

yesterday i went to the sf moma during lunch. i was able to see the 1000 journals project. it was pretty amazing.

this is how it started:

"I've always been fascinated by what people scrawl on bathroom walls and in public spaces. I had been taking photographs of this writing for years, and wanted to put together a book. It seemed appropriate to encourage readers to become contributors, and join the conversation by writing in the actual book. From there, I decided that a blank book might be more fun... especially one that traveled around, to gather a variety of thoughts and opinions. And then, why not 1000 of them? It's such an absurd number."

at the moma they have some of the journals and i was able to be a part of it and write in one of them and leave my mark. so i decided to do the same with my four of my closest friends. we all live in different parts of california except for one in wisconsin. since we never get to see each other i thought passing this journal around to each other would be the perfect way to keep involved in each other's lives. they are all very creative people and i'm excited to see how it turns out. i'll make sure and post pics of a few of the pages that we create.

try it out. rediscover your creativity.

weekday romance

every morning i wake up at 6:30, hit the snooze button and wait for it to go off again.
every morning i put my make up on
every morning i pick out my clothes
every morning i walk to the bus stop to ride to BART
every morning i sit on BART and people watch

most mornings are the same
the same coffee mugs
the same people reading books
the same loud
the same quiet
sometimes i stand
sometimes i sit

but this morning...
this morning i fell in love
he sat there in his black ironed pants on his small frame
short brown hair
boyish charm
i bet he's from nebraska

only five stops before i get off
i love him
i fall in love too quickly
i wonder if he's noticed me
he gives up his seat to a woman

he stands close to me but i'm sitting
i look up and as he turns my way
i look away
i'm too shy

maybe he's a musician
maybe he's an artist
ernst and young embroidered on his bag
he's probably a brilliant accountant

just look my way...
maybe he's hoping for my number
probably not
i wonder if he thinks about me

three more stops til i get off
he reaches in his pocket
i can imagine he's grabbing his business card
"call me"
i smile because my daydreams are always more wonderful than real life

montgomery street
he exits
my romance is over

every morning i get off at powell
every morning i take the escalator to the main street
every morning i walk to work
every morning i sit at my desk and do my work

today was no different