Repatriation continues. Today I wonder: what does it mean to live in a city? Generally speaking, cities attract people who like action, have a zest for life and derive fulfillment from their social networks (i.e., "friends" to anyone not down with SF urban-tribe-lingo). Most of these people would probably also like to describe themselves as "spontaneous." So how is it that the life of your average city-dweller is an unceasing pre-meditated continuum of dinners, drinks, parties, meetings, outings and appointments?

"What do I want to do today?" is rarely considered and "Let me check my calendar" is the standard reply to a friend who wants to get together. "We should get together!" we say when we run into an acquaintance on the street. We should? Why's that then? I used to be the first to click the "Yes" button on an Evite but now I'm scared to even open the blasted things because I know the organizer can see that I've looked and I really don't want to come across as disinterested if I don't reply or select the non-comittal "Maybe" option (which, mind you, did not even exist only two years ago. what then??). But really! How am I supposed to know what I am going to feel like doing four Sundays from now?

A year without consulting a calendar definitely did me some good. I am starting to think that if I can't remember it, I probably might think twice about planning to do it. It's a bit of a paradox isn't it, that those of us who yearn to spend quality time with friends and do cool crazy things are not necessarily supported by the constructs of the societies in which we live. How can I throw away my PDA and say "maybe" to those far-off commitments and still have any friends left at the end it all? Anyone? Does this even sound like me? PDA consulting/phone tag playing/double-booking Allison? It doesn't sound like me to me, but I guess I've changed and am still getting to know myself...



I spent Friday night unpacking boxes and organizing the kitchen with my roommates. I could have spent the evening out as usual, I mean, it's Friday. But I will always remember that in travel, days cease to have meaning. One day slowly gives way to the next and a schedule is dictated only by the sun and your body. I'd never remember the date and usually forgot the day of week. Sure, I forgot birthdays and anniversaries (sorry everyone) but I never felt so free. Admittedly, part of me is reluctant to let that freedom go.

The real, simple truth is this. I love my friends and I'm not sure I've always done such a good job of letting them know that. Before I left to travel, I was spread so thin that the people most important to me did not necessarily know how I perceived them or our friendship. I'm trying to fix that. It takes time.

The best part of unpacking was unwrapping the few things I bought while traveling. Nearly everything had a perfect place and brought back waves of good memories and stories. I hung two strings of Tibetan prayer flags on my back porch where they're out of the sun and in the breeze all the time. I tied them with a fisherman's bend knot that Jai taught me.

I think my roommates are plotting to fatten me up. When I first interviewed for the new place, my roommate-to-be pulled out a batch of cinnamon buns. I asked her if it was a usual occurence to have sugary food laying around and without hesitation, she assured me that no, it would definitely not be laying around. Instead, as I later discovered, the Costco supersize boxes of Svenhard's danishes and candy bars are carefully hidden from view inside the food cabinet. Too bad I have X-ray vision, a keen sense of smell and the willpower God gave a puppy.



It was one of those wonderful freak, unseasonably warm weekends in San Francisco. I got my dancing fix at the Sublounge, felt oddly out of place at the 5th Annual Scorpio Ball, did yoga in the sand, made French toast at Jai's going-away brunch, and sat in a sleepy daze while slowly roasting at a birthday bonfire at Ocean Beach for danah and her fellow Sagittarians. Good times. It's Monday in the cube and hot damn, it's lunch hour!