The Psychogeography Changes

This year has had the most ups and down in the Bay that I've experienced thus far but I couldn't keep doing it without the support and friendship that I've found here. And no other place will ever feel quite like home like it does here.

Still scheming and dreaming. On my way home from visiting

Orangevale/Folsom/Sacramento/Fair Oaks this weekend I reread Society of the Spectacle for a 4th time. Each time I take something different away. If I have to keep struggling than it should be here.

63

Spectacular oppositions conceal the unity of poverty. If different forms of the same alienation struggle against each other in the guise of irreconcilable antagonisms, this is because they are all based on real contradictions that are repressed. The spectacle exists in a concentrated form and a diffuse form, depending on the requirements of the particular stage of poverty it denies and supports. In both cases it is nothing more than an image of happy harmony surrounded by desolation and horror, at the calm center of misery.

Excerpt from The Society of the Spectacle: http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/debord/3.htm

Rear Window from the Garage

I'm finding myself around people who don't identity as anarchists a little more since I'm not doing a lot of things that involve me in larger scenes.  It is really interesting to think about how much I didn't have to explain myself when I referenced something I was reading or thinking about.  I've been mostly spending time with people at work and people on my block.  Since being broke half the month I spend a majority of my time in my house.  And why not enjoy my huge victorian mansion since I'm paying for it.  So I've got my curmudgeon neighbor to the side who directed documentaries and did art instillations at various Bay Area museums who continually talks at me because us young people never talk to people in their 50s.  I've got my bisexual buddhist male neighbor in his 40s who tells me I need to believe in abundance and I will get everything I need.  There is the woman whose son died 4 years ago.  He was shot on the block by a member of MS13 which is still a really major gang.  She's part of Section 8 house down the block and has her daughter & boyfriend living there with 4 of her grandkids.  The trial is about to happen for her son that passed away.  We have a museum designer.  A  pool player.  On the next block a gay couple that took me to Mt. Tam and Stinsen Beach.  Another crazy drug filled house with domestic disputes.  I feel like I'm in Desperate Housewives but Mission style.   This is the first time where I've really been friends with people on the block.  

I just spent the evening drinking wine in my garage with people completely different from me.  I'm pretty amazed by the characters that have entered my life thus far in the city.  I don't exactly know what it means except the fact I'm personable and listen to everyone's story.  If I have to be the token anarchist girl right now, then be it.  I did a few years of no arguing and I suppose it's time to go back to basics.  At least people seem to catch my drift... and I think people are really open to what I'm thinking about.  I don't think in any other part of the country I could talk about the need to rid ourselves of the economy, the state, and faith would be as tolerated.

Ever since 2nd grade I've had people feel comfortable talking to me about their personal life issues.  Parents would complain about their kids to me and ask me if I thought their kid was a brat.  It just happened.  I don't really know why.  I usually lied... I wasn't going to tell someone's parent at school... yah I think your kid is an asshole.  Adults would talk to me about their personal issues and I always felt more comfortable talking to people older then me.  It wasn't until the last few years I actually started to connect with people my age and most youth still scare me.  But I swear if I hear one more old person tell me they can't believe I'm 22, I'm going to scream.  Yes young people can read and think. I'M NOT A POD PERSON.  And so I continue to watch and interact with a neighborhood foreign to me with people living here 15 years and more.

OH SF! You exhaust me.

Well I feel really lucky that I'm getting this time in San Francisco with all the weirdos and intense people that I'm meeting. It's weird to think about where I was at when I lived in San Francisco before on 2 other occasions.

One of them was splitting a room on Judah and La Playa facing the beach. It was beautiful. It was with three other hippies who went to SF State. I didn't really click with them for whatever reason. But the apartment itself was great and I became friends with the girls on the floor. I hated work as usual but part of getting older is just taking it in and becoming institutionalized I think. Institutionalized is my dad's favorite word from the Shawshank Redemption and it seems to fit most situations. Anyways I lived at that apartment for 3 months. It was god awful taking that N-Judah bus all the time. It took forever to get to a certain part of the city out of the Sunset/Ocean Beach area. I was paying $400/month and at 17 years old making $200 a week.

Then I came back to the city again and shared a room at Villa Park Merced at $525 a month. It was a 3 bdrm townhouse that was like a college dorm. It was right across the street from SF State. It wasn't unpleasant but again long time to get anywhere. This time I live in my room by myself but would actually prefer sharing my room. But nobody wants a 4th roomie at my house.

I basically want to make a map of every neighborhood I would live in the Bay Area. It is a very distinct map. Basically it extends to North Berkeley near University and Acton (by Fellinis Cafe) and makes a left on University to a right on MLK and all the way down to downtown oakland (basically wouldn't live below MLK) and then across the bridge to SOMA/Mission. but north of market is a waste of time because I commute to the East Bay occassionally still. And the south bay forgetta about it and same with the north bay except I wouldn't mind living a month in Fairfax at some point. They have a nice sandwich shop and its so lush and green. I looked at a studio on Turk and Hyde in the Tenderloin it's 800/month to be right in crack central with the hustle and bustle. I'd rather get a place in the East Bay.

Each time I'm not quite sure what drew me to San Francisco. This is my third time living here and I'm certainly more secure than any of the other times coming straight from So. Cal but I can't really quite explain it. It's something about the architecture that doesn't feel homey and the way things are laid out. Something always crazy happens here. I love my friends in the Mission who are natives and grew up in Bayview. They are the most sincere honest people I've ever met who happen to be in their late 30s. Just working and living and trying to enjoy every moment. In the city you have to have a scheme and understand why you are here. I don't really know why I'm here besides that all the people I love are in a general vicinity. I'm not a hustler like my father even though I've certainly done my fair share. It's not a constant 80 hr work weeks with three jobs by any means.

Riding my bike 15 mins to work down the Harrison Bike Path is very nice. Being broke 70% of the month to live here... not so nice.

I miss 2244 Dwight the most, the group house where I met one of my closest friends now. I miss the small town feel of Berkeley. But I don't miss commuting on BART, so there you have it. If I start making more money or finding a cheaper place to live perhaps I'll be more excited about SF.

My garage has become the chill pad with couches, ash tray, music, chess board and coffee table. Hopefully soon a mini fridge and bookshelf. I feel so excited that people have visited me and that my house feels like a place people can come over. Going up to Bernal Heights and viewing the city. There is even a bench. Drive straight up Alabama all the way up and the view is better than Twin Peaks... who knew? I didn't but it wasn't until I was in the neighborhood.

Sick to Long!

Right now I'm in the middle of reading So Many Ways to Sleep Badly by Mattilda who also writes on blogspot at nobodypasses.blogspot.com  and I have to tell you right now.  It's published by City Light Books.  This is one of the best contemporary books I've read in a long time for a number of reasons.  The first one that comes to mind is the stream of consciousness that our lives are hectic and trying to balance life between work, sex, and friends is a really difficult challenge.  Then on top of dealing with our health.  One of the reasons I'm able to be reading this book right now is because I'm sick at home and have been all week.

The other that comes to mind and you see this in most of Mattilda's writing is that she is always brutally honest.  I don't get to enter spaces like Blow Buddies or places where they are having circle jerks of penis'.   I just don't.  I have a vagina and breasts.  And getting a peak into what that looks like is something that is interesting to me especially as far as I know there isn't a lesbian/pansexual cruising scene.  I don't get to experience male cruising or the bathrooms at UC Berkeley.   There is a lot of things I don't know about and reading Mattilda's experiences navigating through all of it is very inspiring to me.

I also realize I don't think I'm part of a scene that appreciates such brutal honesty.  A lot of people still have a purtianical sense of privacy.  That I need to withhold information to be powerful and to make sure I am put together. I wish more people would have conversations about navigating through because maybe if we did then we would all realize the discontent instead of thinking there are no problems.  Especially within the anarchist milleu making fun of each other all the time isn't particularly productive.

I recently made the mistake of telling my neighbor about my attraction to our mutual neighbor.  The next thing I knew my neighbor took me on a walk to tell me nothing romantic would ever happen between us.  I think its the worst rejection I've ever had because I wasn't planning on doing anything about it, nor had I said anything.  He decided to take me for a walk and I obliged.  Then decided to lay it on me.  I was shocked and as usual a word on the subject couldn't come out of my mouth.  He showed me this old leather factory on York Street that the owner refuses to let become condos.  It hasn't been in working order but the owner doesn't want to become part of the mission yuppie project.  We keep walking and he tells me he can be my mentor, he wants to tease me to toughen me up (not that I haven't heard that one before, apparently people all over see that as their life project in me, and I say fuck you), and that we can be friends.  Then he mentions if he didn't have restraint maybe something could happen.  All of this talk on the hearsay of a neighbor, why not leave it alone and not address it.  Whatever he's stating his boundaries but I hate the fact he's getting off on seeing me squirm and it leaves me feeling with no control.  I also don't need a mentor but more friends in the city.  It's just not a good feeling and of course he still wants to be friends.  "Everything is still cool, right?"  It's been an ongoing problem that I provide comfort for people by providing them with attention.  I can't seem to find a balance.  I bought him 2 pieces of chocolate from a fancy chocolate shop that I gave to him before this "talk" occurred.  I'm silly but then again what are your early 20s for if not embarrassing yourself a million times apparently.

Mourning

My next door neighbors told me that I was too bright and I wasn't going to last because I see through the bullshit. I kind of chuckled knowing it was probably true but my goal has never been to be on this planet for a long time as a knowing cigarette smoker. I've always made jokes that I'd shoot myself when I found out I had cancer rather than going through the surgery and I'm half-not kidding.

My neighbors in their late 40s-50s couldn't believe how old I was and every minute they could they brought it up. Asking me if I had heard of Don Rickles or Lenny Bruce? Wanting to test my knowledge had I heard of what happened in Jonestown? I actually didn't know anything about the White Knight Riots in 78' or how the end of the era of North Beach came about or the invention of the topless stripper on Broadway. My neighbor is in MOMA, a videographer, who has been around San Francisco forever and the other is the sweet queer man who has a Chihuahua named Tyson and a cat named Bob. They both say I won't last in this world. And maybe I'm not meant for it.

I don't believe in a structure that is about coercion which is exactly what we are in the damn middle of. And how people treat each other due to the bad habits this structure has inflicted upon us. Full of judgment about how people choose to navigate and there is no time for that. But I guess I have to stop mourning the people I've lost and be excited about the people here.

There is no reason we should be working for a fictitious business based of a currency of paper that has valued placed on it. It's arbitrary. I'm wasting 5 days a week selling a product. One man says, "That's life." The other says, "find a job you believe in." Another says, "you will figure out your passion." But what happens if I don't want anything this society has to offer me including your subcultures? I just want to have honest and straight forward conversation without the bureaucracy and the hierarchies. And without your ideology inflicting upon me. Free associations.

Remnants of what is left...

Did you know in Downtown Sacramento there is a bike kitchen on I and 20th? A man from Pittsburgh who drinks PBR and gets paid to be a bike messenger?

Wherever I go I always feel like I'm in the role of observer... just looking at the choices people are making. I see so clearly the prototypes of people and yet what is it that I'm doing? Am I the cliche young person, the loud fat girl, the weird queer girl, and whatever I happen to feel or look that day is no means a clear representation of who I can possibly be.

I used to be a big fan of Sartre until I realized all the choices in front of me were bogus. So there is no way I'm defined by the choices I make because I have a map in front of me I didn't write.

I'm an ally of travelers. I can't do the youthful train hopping bike riding lifestyle but I admire you especially when I know you aren't a trust fund kid.

Wherever I go I happen to find these pockets of difference whether it be an info shop, a bike kitchen, or food not bombs. A friend I became very close with last fall moved to Sacramento due to yet again finances. I'm starting to understand why the veterans of the bay are very picky about who they become friends with. All these hi's and bye's are getting stressful.

So now I've got friends in Modesto, Sacramento, and Palmdale. All very cheap working class places to live. And I'm in San Francisco where I make a good income but its not enough to live here unless I want to be in the boonies by Daly City or can really find a deal. But I made a mistake $833 is too much to be paying in rent. Now lets just hope I can start making money in some other way besides retail. Oh the struggles of the city... oh San Francisco why do you make my life so difficult and exciting.

I just gosh darn it don't know.

A Bouquet

I'm in love with the city.  It is a love hate relationship obviously.  I realize mood is dependent on the time of the month.  Nobody really talks about it enough but the monthly cycle as a person with a menstrual cycle it can kind of be a bummer.  PMS is a real thing.  The days before can be hectic and cause a lot of anxiety for me.  I realized the last three days I've been freaking out wondering if I made a bad decision where I am living and now I'm relieved to realize I was just having a moment of stress.  My body is going through this thing and now it has happened.  I'm not crazy.  I love Margaret Cho on this subject because she always talk about it.  She has this stand up line about how if men had a period it would be a bloody murder scene and it would always be talked about because they'd be whiney and complaining about it all the time.  I can't help but think that is probably true.

Wandering the streets of the city is hectic but I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.  And now I have bought flowers for someone that I really like a lot.  I don't buy flowers for people.  It has something that has never occurred to me until today.  I just randomly asked her what her favorite flowers were and I did it.   I don't know if it is a courting process or a wooing process.  Wondering if this person will like me back.  I'm trying to do things right this time.  Whatever that means.  Someone who gets me and that I have a good time with me.  Someone who can make the time.  And maybe the wooing process will mean I have another friend who doesn't like me the same way.  But it is a chance someone takes over and over again.  I'm really slow about it now and cautious because of rejection.  I keep getting told over and over again I only live once.

Music: "Slow Burning Lights" Album by Blue Sky Black Death