BethanyRambling

Back in the Saddle

Oh, this is so nice. Have I said already how great it is to be back? Back where a friend is a friend...

I went to my first concert in the city, Lala's band the Whoreshoes, a band that seems so perfectly San Francisco. They are all just as cute as can be, looking a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll and sounding very honky-tonky. Opening for them was the band Cotton Candy, a delightfully silly band wearing lots of pink, playing accordions and organs, and singing about kitchen utensils and anal sex. Not in the same song. Thank god. I had a bit of of a fright trying to picture them singing at the bar in Montana.

Then I came home (well, to Christy's home, cause she's off frolicking in Paris) and watched Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere until the wee hours of the morning, casting a delightfully dark glow on my memories of the evening. Pink accordions have no place in London below, and yet it was so perfect.

The next day brought a task that is synonymous with San Francisco in my mind: apartment hunting. We actually found a few possibilities in our price range, although they are all in complexes, and we were so hoping to find a delightful little cabin behind someone's house in the hills of Lafayette, perhaps owned by a rich, artsy type who just wanted to help out a couple of girls. Still, the complexes weren't bad. One of them had the most amazing seventies rock garden courtyard, and retro-futuristic light fixtures.

I topped the day off with a visit to my friendly neighborhood liquor store, where the universe rewarded me with the strangest find ever. My eye caught on a four-pack of Del Monte pudding, pink bubble gum flavored, which is strange enough to be fabulous. Then I noticed that Alvin was on the packaging. Alvin the chipmunk. When was the last time you saw Alvin? That's right, this package of fluorescent pink pudding dates back to 1991. It was a "NEW Flavor" back then; I wonder why it never caught on? And I love that this little store never got rid of them.

Today I am off to the thea-tah. Fetes le nui, a saucy musical valentine put on by Berkely Rep. Don't bring the kids; nudity and racy scenes are plentiful. Oh, it's good to be back.

Whew.

Heh. Heh heh. Just finished ranting at the computer and typepad because my post I wrote an hour ago was not showing up. Went to repost it, and realized I had put it under Bethany's 100 Things. It's been too long since I posted.

It's been a bit crazy. No, it's been a lot crazy.

Having made my decision to leave Montana, I went absolutely mad trying to accomplish it immediately. That meant packing up the belongings I had accumulated into my wee stuffed Tach, till he was just about ready to burst, cleaning thouroughly both houses, draining, antifreezing, and otherwise winter proofing the places, and, most importantly, finishing the damn bathroom floor.

It's done. And it's beautiful. And I really wish I had developed my film so I could post a picture. I made a mosaic, with 1 inch square tiles, cut in places so that the curves of the tree and the road would even out a bit better. It's definitely not perfect, a bit of an amateur production, but grout covers many flaws, and I am delighted.

And damn, was it hard! My little how-to books did not mention that fact. The first thing I had to do was mix the cement. Really, I should have known that hand-mixing cement with a stick was not going to be the easiest thing. But after that, I needed a break. Unfortunately, a break meant that the cement would harden a bit, and since it took me about 6 hours of work, breaks were not a good idea.

Okay, and can someone explain How one can Begin at the center, work their Way out, and not step on the Damn Tiles before they are Set? It is simply Not Possible. Still, I did my best, perching on the tub and contorting into strange positions that left me cramped and twitching on the floor hours later.

Still. It was my floor. A floor that I made. Hee. Worth all the pain. I may even do it again someday.

Packed, cleaned, drained, and buffed, I headed south. Traveling... with a destination, not rambling at all. I stuck to interstates covered in snow, and stopped at cheap motels, since I didn't even have room to recline my seat, and the passenger's side was full of "one more bag"s that I tried to cram in.

I spent a few lovely days at my Aunt and Uncle's house in Tucson, Arizona. I know, Arizona is not technically on the way home, but there was simply no direct way to get from MT to CA anyway, so I figured why not make it a wee bit less direct. They showed me the sights of Tucson, including a delightful spring making an oasis in the desert, fed me very, very well, and introduced me to the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show, a more-than-a-week-long extravaganza of fossils, rocks, wee boxes, huge carved jade, ornate jewelry, and the odd decorative knife or two, all filling the hotel and motel rooms of every single inn in Tucson. A little overwhelming, but much fun for a packrat such as myself.

I also got a whole bunch of puppy tummy rubs in, and was presented with an amazing Hasselblad style camera, one that takes two and a quarter film and with a viewfinder you look down into. It's purty. Um, I am still working on developing my first roll. I'm a little slow.

With good reason, though. I have a new job! After weeks, okay, days, of being ignored for well-paying positions I thought were perfect for me, I found the job that really was perfect for me. I am working for small publishing house, as a kind of Girl Friday! I do a bit of everything, and I love it. The books that we publish are... delightfully San Francisco. The owner/head writer is a huge medical marijuana activist, and all our books are pretty much about pot. The office is clean, organized, and professional; it's not like we are working out of someone's basement. It's just the subject matter that is a bit different. I love it. The job, not the pot.

Job, check. Apartment, next task.

I'm back, baby!!! On my way to dinner in North Beach, I drove past the defenestration building, and got a bit giddy. The defenestration (the act of throwing something out the window) building is on the corner of Harrison and 6th, and was a big art project, years ago. There are all sorts of things crawling out the windows: cast iron tubs, twisted as if caught in motion, lamps stretching way out, a telephone, the receiver leaping out first. It's a completely animate and strange building.

I'm home.