I know, I know. I'm totally lame. You're not even here, reading this, I'm such an infrequent updater.
Today was one of those ridiculously perfect San Francisco days. Blue sky, not a fog bank in sight, warm air (it was even warm in the shade! The shade, I tell you!). I tried to write, but the outdoors just kept on pokin' at me, saying, "hey, c'mere. I smell nice." But not in an icky way.
Innyhoo. So we're settled into the new place, the six-months-possibly-more catsit. There's more mailing and office work than I anticipated, and more heavy lifting, but I really can't complain. And I like writing here, which is something I never felt easy doing at the old apt. I spend the day on an old couch by the window, cat at my elbow. The window looks out semi-subterraneanaly at the garden, which gives a nice fishtanky feel to the whole affair.
I've been going for long walks, too, getting a feel for the new neighborhood. There's more hills and less trees, making for expansive views of what feels like all of California. and there's more bars, only here they're full of exhuberantly drunk men in wigs and tight tee shirts who pay me so little mind that I worry they might walk through me by accident. Which is oddly liberating, kind of like the childhood fantasy of becoming invisible. If I find a way to shoot lasers from my eyes, I'll let you know.