All the Things I Have Ever Loved

I am all the things I have ever loved:

Being warm. Being dry. Blankets. Hugs.

Family. Friends.

Spaghetti. Red sauce. Long noodles twirled around my fork.

My Little Ponies. Inspector Gadget. She-Ra. Rainbow Brite.

Kitties. Hide and Seek. Memory Games. Scavenger Hunts.

Outside and playing Lost Girls. 

The soothing sound of the water. Warm sand between my toes.

The tall thin boy a year older than me whose gaze I could never meet.

Emo. Scream-o. Basement shows.

Goodwill. Messenger bags. Home-made patches. Safety pins.

Eyeliner. Ball-chain necklaces. Cuffed jeans.

Adam. Pot. House parties.

Summers in Door County. Beach days. Sue's magnificent breakfasts.

Driving around in cars.

Adam. Walks in the woods. Fractals.

Late night omelets. Roommates evolving into friends.

Freedom. My black Honda Civic. Quick drives to Madison.

The Irishman with a quick temper but an unparalleled generosity.

Travel. New experiences. The thin line between strangers and friends.

White rice. Steamed. With soy sauce.

The brief summer with a tall skinny representation of wanderlust.

That infectious laugh.

Beers and food television. Video games. Late nights at bars.

Grilling a tenderloin on a Madison rooftop.

Getting kicked out of training for playing Minesweeper too loudly and giggling too much.

My car again. Road trips. Couch surfing.

The Playa. The West Coast.

The week with a boy who blew glass and brought home organic juice.

Philz. The Golden Gate. Carousel rides with a boy from the Midwest.

Huelo feet. Tiki Hut. Sundays on Little Beach.

Hitchhiking.

That same boy and camping roadside. Walking up a volcano.

Selling everything and island hopping in Asia.

Being warm again. Being lost.

San Francisco. Diversity. Culture.

Josh. Then Goober. Then Logan.

Creating a home. Neighbors. Neighborhood.

23rd Produce. Duc Loi. Sun Fat Seafood.

Basa. Radish. Yamo.

Support. Family. Phamily.

Netflix. Rainy day excuses to do nothing.

Still Goober.

A rack full of wine. Cooking while listening to my favorite songs.

Lazy Saturdays reserved for writing.

SLO.

I am becoming more and more enamored of San Luis Obispo.

Last weekend, Josh and I had a rare 3 days off together.  We decided to pack up and get out of the city for a while.

SLO was the perfect destination -- only 3 to 4 hours south, sunny and chock-full of beaches, wineries and fun distractions!

First stop: Avila Beach! Sunny and beautiful little town by the water. Of course, being from SF, we neglected to pack sandals.. Oops. :)

Spent the night at Morro Bay Campsite.  Kind of crazy car camping experience.  Lots of loud children and lost elderly people.  We were also treated to a heated argument in the early morning.

And, because they are so plentiful in the area, we winery hopped throughout the weekend.  Beautiful views, lovely service and tasty wines!!

into the fire.

tour number one began with circles around the 2-block radius of union square scouring for parking or loading zones to accommodate my 15-pax van.  my first passengers stood, side by side, behind large luggage in front of the hotel stratford, eyes scanning for their pickup.  the woman - shoulder-length blonde hair, short stature, aging but vibrant good looks - recognized the logo on my vehicle and motioned to the main next to her.  he - shorter in statue and donning a black cowboy hat, cigarette in hand - acknowledged and nodded in my direction.  as i wrapped up their paperwork, a third joined - young, long blonde hair, full makeup and amply breasted.  and lastly, our final straggler - thin, long face and tired eyes - arrived.  we exchanged 'hello's, loaded up their many (heavy) bags and quickly headed out of the city.  

my speeches were short, the car rides awkward; i worried they could see how green i was.  dropping them off at the santa cruz beach boardwalk, i made a mad dash downtown for a mission impossible-style bank errand.  complications arose, tempers flared and i panicked.  tears. on a rescue mission later in the day, my pax roamed downtown SC while i attempted to finally accomplish my goal.  an hour later -- success!  

two hours down california's pacific highway, we stopped at monterey's cannery row and split up.  lisa (the young german au pair) and i hit up the expensive but nice aquarium.  together we stood inside a giant wave, pet sting rays and stared amazed at the glowing neon orange jellyfish.  for dinner, we all dined randomly at the boar's head in carmel, a restaurant owned by none other than clint eastwood.  lisa, penny (the aging beauty) and i all tried the dirty harry special.  frances (tired eyes) perused the menu for something she could eat -- no eggs, no meat, no fish, no cheese -- and finally settled on locally farmed artichoke soup and salad.  roger (our own personal cowboy) removed his teeth and gnawed on his pork chop dinner, washing it down with 5 cold budweisers.  

at night, i stayed up later than planned arranging details for the next day.  my eyes closed to the comforting sounds of my long lost food network.

day two started with a $2 banana and an equally priced hot chocolate.  after multiple photo stops on the picturesque big sur portion of the CA-1, we turned down the long, one-lane road to our picnic lunch stop.  the van bumped uncomfortably and we stopped often (and treacherously) to make way for oncoming traffic.  our destination was a wonderful pocketed beach area surrounded by sharp volcanic expanses of large rock.  the waves splashed forcefully through the large openings in the rocks as we admired the vast pacific ocean behind them.  the group vetoed lunch on the beach so we ate in the parking lot - our cooler as the prep-kitchen, our laps as our table.  

another long silent van ride.  lisa slept in the passenger seat as the radio station she had selected faded more and more into static.  we arrived in san luis obispo in only enough time to barely walk the main street before the sun set.  we suppered at a local thai place with a multitude of vegan fare and a never-ending supply of buds for roger.  as we left, he lovingly kissed our waitress on the cheek.  surprised and with both hands full of food, she ducked, squirmed and shut her eyes.  the restaurant watched our group as we walked past the window to our hotel.  

again, the soothing sound of ted allen lulled me to sleep.

day last, i ate a well priced $3 cheesy egg plate to kick-start my energy.  we hit the road in order to arrive in santa barbara at the perfect lunch hour.  the day was sunny, hot.  

for lunch, we ate leftovers out of the side of the van.  our cooler prep area spilling into the sidewalk.  by the time we left, it was 2PM.  as we approached the timesuck that is LA, we were met with slow crawling traffic in malibu.  towering multi-million dollar houses and vast ocean views pacified the pax.  worried about time, i bit my nails and nervously drummed on the steering wheel.  once we hit the highway near hollywood, traffic was a standstill.  frances called her airport shuttle to reschedule but we denied.  we inched down sunset boulevard.  0.7 miles away from the shuttle, we were still 10 minutes too far.  they graciously deigned to wait.  by now, it was 7PM and we had just sat through 3-4 hours traffic.  

i cringed on the inside at the disappointed looks of my left pax while i told them we wouldn't be able to finish our hollywood tour.  over promised. under delivered.  i left them with a plethora of apologies.  i left them alone with their luggage in front of the motel 6.  

more traffic to my hotel.  tired, i entered my room to a non-talkative roommate who was glued to her smartphone.  i ate my cold leftover thai food in silence and worried that my pax hated their tour.  more work.  more papers.  at 12:15 i set my alarm for 5:30AM.