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FlickrThe San Francisco Experiment, Day 1.5
I came into San Francisco last night, after a birthday dinner with my sister. I slept in my old room, and marveled at the cocktail of familiar and strange down there—walls I know and a closet I no longer use. This morning I woke up about when I usually do, and got a ride with my departing parents to work.
Today, work was work, barring (excitement of excitements) some photo time with a co-worker and his erstwhile protégé (which might actually produce a workable headshot, lucky me, and provided some interesting insight into the photo process—who'd have thought a white car was a useful photography tool?). Then after that shoot, he dropped me at the train station, and I took a ride north I have not taken in over a year.
Caltrain from Hillsdale to Millbrae; from there, a BART ride to Daly City; and from there, a walk up a hill I am fairly certain exists to ensure the world never lacks for sharp angles. Food for the cats, both tame and stray, and food for myself once that was one. And then, some time alone with Not Providence, which ended with 1200 words and some burning questions about what I'm doing in this chapter to advance the plot (an important question which I'm really glad I've started asking with regularity). And now, it is a quarter to ten, and feeling the pulse of worry and doubt, I am going to retire from writing for the evening and go read some Charles Stross before I sleep; I've got a nice long commute in the morning.
Today's thoughts on the experiment are as seen in the first paragraph: this place feels all at once familiar and strange, the associated routines both fresh and unrehearsed and very natural. I was halfway up the hill from Daly City BART before I had to even consider my route. Yet all at once, this house is eerily quiet, and there is a feeling of isolation that I don't have in the suburbs of Mountain View (yeah, figure that out; maybe it's excess debauchery leaking in from Castro Street). I am happy to be here, to be able to help my family, to have a change of pace, and to revisit a house that was home for five years. But I'm also going to be glad to go back to my bed in four short days.
Today, work was work, barring (excitement of excitements) some photo time with a co-worker and his erstwhile protégé (which might actually produce a workable headshot, lucky me, and provided some interesting insight into the photo process—who'd have thought a white car was a useful photography tool?). Then after that shoot, he dropped me at the train station, and I took a ride north I have not taken in over a year.
Caltrain from Hillsdale to Millbrae; from there, a BART ride to Daly City; and from there, a walk up a hill I am fairly certain exists to ensure the world never lacks for sharp angles. Food for the cats, both tame and stray, and food for myself once that was one. And then, some time alone with Not Providence, which ended with 1200 words and some burning questions about what I'm doing in this chapter to advance the plot (an important question which I'm really glad I've started asking with regularity). And now, it is a quarter to ten, and feeling the pulse of worry and doubt, I am going to retire from writing for the evening and go read some Charles Stross before I sleep; I've got a nice long commute in the morning.
Today's thoughts on the experiment are as seen in the first paragraph: this place feels all at once familiar and strange, the associated routines both fresh and unrehearsed and very natural. I was halfway up the hill from Daly City BART before I had to even consider my route. Yet all at once, this house is eerily quiet, and there is a feeling of isolation that I don't have in the suburbs of Mountain View (yeah, figure that out; maybe it's excess debauchery leaking in from Castro Street). I am happy to be here, to be able to help my family, to have a change of pace, and to revisit a house that was home for five years. But I'm also going to be glad to go back to my bed in four short days.
Labels: travel
posted by Tyler at
9:37 PM
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