april, 2009

Wed, 8 Apr 2009 21:19:02 -0700

Last Friday morning, I walked home from T's apartment through the Mission, and noticed on the corner of 18th & Guerrero a storefront I must have passed by hundreds of times, but never before seen. A line snaked 'round the tables inside, past glass cases of hot pastry, sleepy morning people hunched over their bread puddings, coffees, newspapers. I stuck my head in, curious, as it hit me that this must be the fabled Tartine. I've had my reasons for not going in here before (namely, butter). But, presented suddenly with the option, I took it. A few minutes later, I was walking past bright Dolores Park on 18th Street, licking the hot, sticky sugar of the morning bun from my fingers, and marveling at what I'd been missing, right under my nose.

The analogy is almost too easy. He's been right here for months, now. What triggers sight?

Imminent distance, perhaps. I drove him to SFO yesterday morning, where he, looking for all the world like the mid-30's San Franciscan Brit adventurer that he is, drew a deep breath and embarked for nigh on six weeks of not being here (the only part of "where" I care about).

They all seem to go. But this one has a return ticket ...

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 17:58:49 -0800

I'd hoped it would be rainy this weekend, as my iPhone weather widget was predicting on Monday (itself pushing 90 in the south bay). If I had to be stuck inside oncall on the weekend, everyone else should be, too! But instead, it's sunny, which I grudgingly found myself enjoying as I walked up Market to Janet's early yoga class this morning, Craig covering for me so I could test the flexibility of my operative knee and the strength of its attached leg using the heuristic of repeated utkatasanas. (Verdict: I can do Pigeon! And Camel, even! But still not really half-Hero. Each week, something obvious strengthens, I can do a new pose. I've increased my appreciation of inversions, which I've always loved, and even the long-hated ab work, since it doesn't require legs in the same way.)

And being stuck inside on my couch actually isn't so bad, as I go through the daylight music on my iPhone, edit photos and debate with myself the relative merits of potential new lenses, and eat an almond croissant purchased this morning to be an afternoon treat, comfort for when I would be getting paged. Which I haven't been. (Don't say that too loudly -- I'm not superstitious, yet nor am I totally convinced that I can't jinx this scary beepy device sitting on the table next to me.)

I'm biding time, like I have been since T went off to Nepal three weeks ago -- time until he returns; time here on this couch this sunny weekend oncall; time until I leave for Mexico, to do yoga on the beach on Isla Mujeres and then avoid getting killed by either warring drug cartels or now swine flu in Mexico City.

Two weeks off work -- I've never done that before! I told Cody of my dream last week that I was notified I'd been promoted by a lemon left on my desk, which I broke open and ate, which was sweet. He told me I needed a vacation. I'll happily take one, if only this nascent pandemic passes. Stupid pigs.

I do feel a bit silly, sitting by the proverbial phone. T's been off the grid in the Himalayas for these last two weeks, and I like a modern-day sailor's wife write him emails.

Errands and loose ends to tie up both seem to multiply before a vacation. But perhaps it's less that I have so much to do, and more a need to keep busy? Soon.