Lamb and opera. and baseball.

Word to the wise - summer and San Francisco is not a time of warmth and sun. It's a time of deception, the cold and wet week, the questioning of why I still own tank tops.

(To answer the last question, it's because there are sometimes periods of warmth midday where basking in the sun is a great idea. They're over by 6 p.m. though.)

Friday night was spent at Opera in the Park, a live simulcast of Tosca from the San Francisco Opera house on a giant screen at, coincidentally, Giant's stadium. I mean, AT&T Park. Mike and I met a couple of friends there and we found seats on the field itself. Ballpark grass is incredible plush stuff. And very green. Sitting in left field we had decent neighbors, luckily the women in front of us left at the first intermission so we could stretch our legs out. They couldn't deal with the music apparently.

There was something wonderful about a clear night, bright moon, breeze off the water and a stadium packed with people all watching an opera while having snacks and drinking whatever they smuggled in illegally or bought at an overpriced concession stand. Popcorn and tragedy go surprisingly well together. Also great was when Tosca stabbed the evil police chief (who you understand is evil because he comes in wearing black and is a baritone) people cheered and clapped, then someone yelled "You go Tosca!"

Not your average opera-going crowd.

My bike went flat on the ride over, so Sarah (who joined us for the third act and we smuggled her onto the field) and I wandered towards Market street to get out of the crowd that thinned with every block and caught buses towards home and her friend's place. Just a fun evening, looking forward to the next one in September.

And then, last night, a revelation in lamb. Delicious. Sarah got some pieces that were too small to serve at her restaurant, but perfect size for us. Leaving the artist to her work, a plate of quinoa with lemon juice and herbs, lamb porterhouse, and delicious greens with a balsamic & dried cherry pan reduction appeared before my exhausted eyes. Incredible.

Also Sunday brought me to the Alameda antique market right at its end. Jaylan and I had some issues since the website gave a location that wasn't correct, so lots of driving around the deserted naval base in a zippy champagne colored mini cooper. So hip. We found interesting things to look at, but nothing to bring home except some odd painted postcards for her, a Moroccan tea table for Sarah. Shala found the best: a gorgeous stained glass lampshade that apparently is worth more than the seller knew. It was about the size of her trunk, luckily she has high ceilings and the space for it in her new pad.

Next adventures for the Grove household include making yogurt, more meat experiments, and my figuring out what I'll be doing for my birthday in two weeks. Huzzah!

Yay!

Right quick since I have to get up early in the morn...

Mike got into grad school at SFSU (known as "state" if you're in the know around these parts). It's incredibly exciting and he'll start in the fall, so that's just a bunch of good.

I've been working crazy hours as I get more tutoring, travel to Indiana and all the while attempt, well, a semblance of sanity.

Meanwhile yesterday it was 90, today barely mid 60s, misty and lots of wind. Yet more joys of the bay.

Tolerance

It's a virtue. Like patience, right? One of those things that I've been working on my whole life.

And yet I've discovered that working with the public five days a week is strangely changing my personality. My capacity for fools is probably about the same, but I can be at least surface-level polite for a longer period of time with those I face across the counter. So that's a plus.

However, now when I have time off I don't want to deal with idiots. At all. And thus my social tolerance has dwindled; I can't stand people who puff themselves up on the first meeting much like a bird in a nature episode. I see your plumage. And your disdain that I work in a coffeeshop instead of a dot com, a non-profit, anything else a trendy liberal arts graduate should be doing in this oh-so-trendy city.

Perhaps it's the cliche that rubs them the wrong way.

I take insult perhaps too quickly, am too harsh in my judgments when we start hanging out. But then again, if who you really are doesn't impress people, why bother trying to change? Sorry, I know the answer to that question - I think I'm suffering from a venue issue. That those who travel seem to do it on trust funds and look at me oddly when I talk about struggling through moving to the US in a period of crisis.

Will just keep keeping on. And hopefully get more phone calls at the right time so I can duck socializing that isn't actually an obligation. Perhaps I need to hide in the woods...

Sunday musings

I'm thrilled because I've procured a ticket home to Indiana for a bit over a week in April (huzzah frequent flyer miles coming in handy for once) AND filed my taxes in the same evening. A burst of productivity to counterbalance the general feeling of blah that working early Sunday morning often brings on (along with naps... those are generally good though).

My sister Cassie just left from spending her spring break here - it was a grand old time, lots and lots of walking around the city (unsurprising I know) and she got to meet some of my friends, eat delicious food, and get a little tan. What more do you need? We spent Friday wandering Berkeley, meeting up with Sally before taking naps on the campus lawn in the sun. Spring must be here.

Yesterday after running to the airport I came out of the BART to find a bunch of police facing off with anti-war protesters - heavy. And disturbing way to come home. Luckily there was an incredible dinner at Cortez to look forward to in the evening; the chef is a regular at Peet's and it was a lovely, delicious time with lots of small plates and bubbles to go with. Who knew that jasmine ice cream 1) was a good idea and 2) went so well with mint-chocolate lava cake? I do now! It was also grand to spend time with all housemates as well as the lovely Maren as we nibbled our way through seemingly countless dishes. I'll be going back for sure.

Things just got to keep getting better. Right?