After spending four years shivering in New England winters, my incredible college years on the East Coast have ended. And now, I’ve finally moved to the city I’ve wanted to live in my entire life: San Francisco. I hope to use this blog to chronicle the small things in life that bring me happiness, from a tart and crisp Pink Lady apple, to small pretty things uncovered while perusing boutiques, to the books and movies that I enjoy, to my runs about the 49 square mile city I now call home.
Although I’ve been in San Francisco for almost a month, I procrastinated the process of organizing Internet. I knew it would be a harrowing experience. I was right. Backtrack to last Saturday. The sales representative at the AT&T store explicitly told me that a technician would come to my apartment the next Friday, between the hours of 8 AM and 8 PM, to install my modem. Of course the 12 hour installation window didn’t thrill me, but it’s no use trying to reason with AT&T for a more precise installation time. So I disrupted my routine, postponed my morning run, and waited. And waited. I love my apartment, and I love to read, but not for eleven hours!! (And especially not when I feel trapped by forces outside my control.) I was productive. I made Angela’s hummus, and was thrilled with the results. I also made her vegan date squares. Another culinary triumph. But still no modem. By 7 PM, after waiting eleven hours, I was stir crazy. I called the 1800 customer service number. Clearly desperate. After an hour on hold, the customer service representative apathetically informed me that the store had misinformed me: the modem was self-installation. No technician was ever scheduled to come! At this point, what was there to do but open a bottle of wine? Fittingly, although I’ve been here several weeks, and I love wine, this night marked the first occasion that I savored wine in my apt. (Usually I’ve been having Kombucha as my cocktail.)
Definitely needed. After a glass (or maybe two) of the cab, I felt infinitely less frustrated. And there’s another perk to the story! Since I haven’t yet reached the level of desperation to induce downing an entire bottle of wine in one night (thanks to the handy Vacu Vin), I can treat myself to more wine tonight. And tomorrow. Fantastic. Almost enough to make me not despise AT&T. Almost.
Other things of note. I met a friend for brunch at a French restaurant in Berkeley this morning called La Note. I ordered the bowl of semolina–perfectly edible, but nothing to write home about. Didn’t hold a candle to my beloved overnight oats. Afterwards we wandered around the Farmer’s Market. The produce called my name but I resisted, too far from my fridge! After an afternoon full of errands (printer, check; white out, check) I prepared my daily hors d’oeuvres of baby broccoli and carrots, with my homemade sparkling water. (Love the Soda Stream!)
And now, my eggplant is salting. During my college years, I always joked to my friends that once I had a real home, I would only stock my kitchen with pink Himalayan sea salt. Basically I’m poking fun at myself. As anyone who knows me can readily attest to, I adore the color pink. And also, although possibly I should be loathe to admit this (especially to the Internet), I sometimes tend towards pretense. But hey, let’s hope that being a smidge pretentious is not as insufferable if you can identify it in yourself. Anyway, I know it’s a little pretentious to only have pink Himalayan sea salt, but if it makes me happy, why not. Long story to explain why my eggplant is currently doused with flecks of pink!
The time to tend to my eggplant has come. To conclude my foray into the blog world, I’m planning to run 17 miles tomorrow morning. (I’m training for a marathon.) A little daunting, but I hope to have a positive report of my run tomorrow!