Week 1

As far as first weeks go, this was definitely a great one. I spent alot of time travelling the city hunting for jobs and apartments, which got me alot of exercise (my calves huuurt), and I got to know the city better.

Some noteable moments from the week were hanging out with Avi pretty much every night, more than one place telling me "Ya, we ARE hiring" (even though none of them have called me back), a seemlessy never-ending game of kickball at Strange Manor, and the drinking...whoa the drinking. I know, I shouldn't be going out partying with no job, but what else do you expect me to do in a city like this?! There's always somehting to do! Thursday night I went out with Avi, his friend Liz, and her (uber-crazy) sister to The California Academy of Sciences, to DRINK! That's right, on thursday nights they open up this Museum of Natural History-like place to drinking adult fools. That was a blast.

Friday I took the first half of the day to myself, time to relax and reflect. I took a bus to the opposite end of Golden Gate Park and walked halfway back through it before I got tired and grabbed a bus. This is by far my favorite part of San Francisco yet. The western half of the park is very different from the eastern half. Eastern being mostly fields and running/biking paths, the western is a very heavily wooded area. I actually got lost more than once. The sounds, the smells, I really felt like I was lost in the middle of the wilderness.

Now today I moved into my new apartment. Clayton Street, one block away from Haight and Ashbury Streets. For those of you who don't know, back in the 70's, this place was hippie central. Head shops galore, The Grateful Dead lived here, and "Free Love Man!" Because of that famous past, this place has become a must-see destination for tourists. But other than the few hokey gift shops, and niche head shops, there are alot of great, unique stores along this street. Though I'm sure it doesn't live up to it's wild history, I think it's still a pretty cool place for my first apartment here. And for those of you who have asked, without further adieu, pictures!

Kitchen

Jungle-y Back Yard

No Pictures of my room just yet as I don't really have one. I am staying in a spare room for now just so I could get out of my hostel. Once I'm in there, if people hassle me for more pics, then, then I will post more.

Much thanks goes out to Avi, he is definitely the greatest friend I could have asked for out here. Every night I get a phone call or text from him inviting me out to join him with his friends. For anyone who has never relocated to a new city, the most frightening part can be not knowing anyone. Avi has helped me to avoid that tremendously, and for that I thank him.

Days one and two

Day One

Arrived safe and sound yesterday morning at 11:00 AM, stepped out of the terminal to beautiful blue skies and 57 degree weather. It really made me miss the two feet of snow we got in New York two weeks ago. First things first, I have to find a job and an apartment. Though before I can do any of that I need to unload my 80 pound suitcase.

Thats right, 80 fucking pounds. Of course Virgin America Airlines has a limit of 70 pounds, so I had to pay an extra $100 on top of the $20 I already paid for it. What a fucking ripoff, if I had one 70 pound bag and one 10 pound bag, that would be fine and it would only be another $20. Whats the fucking difference, it would still represent the same weight being loaded onto the plane. "Well the baggage handlers have to do more work to get it loaded" Granted, they do have to deal with my heavy ass bag. But do you think the airline passes the money onto them? I don't think so. Just a total screwjob for the consumer.

So I head to the hostel where I made my reservation, looks like a pretty decent place too, not at all what i expected. Lugging my heavy suitcase uphill for what seams like eternity. I get there and the guy asks me for my student ID.

Me: "I don't have one, I'm not a student"

Clerk: "Well then you can't stay here, this is for students and international travellers only"

Great, so my only place to sleep is now no longer an option. He points me in the direction of another hostel down the road (downhill too, thank god) that doesn't require student ID's. Now this place was alot closer to what I expected when from the other one. From the moment I walked in the door, the place reaked like weed, the front desk clerk was passively rude. By passively rude, I mean he's being rude, without realizing it. Things like interrupting every sentence that comes out of my mouth and saying everything with a condescending tone. I paid for one night, I don't want to be here any longer than I need to be.

Room #5...Three bunk beds, reaks of weed even worse than the lobby, only two other tenants from what I can tell. One of them is actually home, he introduces himself as Logan (at least I think thats his name, I'm terrible with names). His teeth look like he's been chewing on gravel, fewer left than a texas redneck. But regardless of my initial impression, he is a generally nice guy. He gives me the rundown on the other roommate, Alan. He lives and works in the hostel (by the looks of him, at least in his 40's), so the front desk guys barely assign anyone else to the room in order to keep it more comfortab;e for him, which is nice.

After getting settled, I need a shower and change of clothes bad. The shower frightens me something awful, but I have no choice. I need to buy some sandals before I step in there again. I have an appointment to look at an apartment between one and three, and it is two, so I rush out the door and hop on the M train heading south. This place is a bit of a hike, over 30 minutes on the train. I don't mind it really though, gives me time to relax, and the train has a few stops in a really great neighborhood between the city and my destination. The apartment itself is not bad. Looks like it was once a normal apartment that was converted to have every common room turned into a private bedroom in order to get more money. Three rooms available, all varying sizes and prices. All with a closet/dresser thingy (there's a formal name for them that I can't think of right now), this is enticing because I have no furniture and do not want to live out of a suitcase. Unfortunately this is the only furniture included, which means I'd be on the floor. Filing this away as a maybe, and I'll come back to it later if nothing else opens up.

Time to make my way back to the city and start job hunting. I'm pretty much hitting every place that doesn't look family-owned or sketchy. Got a few good prospects, a cafe/bakery called Specialty's, another cafe/bakery named Peet's, as well as a couple small retail gift shop places. My phone is dying after listening to music for the whole flight and every second since I landed. My friend Avi wants to hang out, so I go back to the hostel and charge my phone and laptop for like an hour before I head out.

Avi lives one block from the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets, for those of you who are going "Huh?" This is a pretty hip area, I'd say about half good "punk rock loving, kindred spirit" hip and half "preppy douche bags and tourists trying to see the cool neighborhood" hip. Still a place I would very much like to live. Avi told me a month ago that he was moving out of his room and needed a replacement, to which I responded "Oooh!! Me Me Me!!" He brought me up with his roommates and said it was a possibility but I shouldn't get my hopes up just in case. Then last week he told me they had a number of people look at the place, one of which they were pretty stoked about, this made me sad. Well I got a chance to hang out with one of his two roommates the whole night and I believe I made a very good impression. Before I left, he gave me his number and told me that if things didn't work out with the apartment search, to give him a call. As great as that is, I'm not getting my hopes up. I'm just gonna go with the flow and se where it takes me. Hell, I'm in San Francisco, I don't really care where I lay my head, as long as I'm here.

[Curtain Lowers] End of day one, what a milestone :)

Day Two

I awake promptly at 10 AM. I'm supposed to go look at another apartment today at 3, but I don't really want to as it is further away than the first one I looked at. I think I'm gonna blow the woman off. Yesterday for jobs I hit up all the places on Market St in the business district (hence the numerous coffee shops), today I'm gonna head to the biggest touristy areas and try my luck there. Lots of retail, customer service, and food service positions there, which I have a lifetime of experience with.

One of the first places I went to was The International Spy Shop, which I had seen in an ad on Craigslist was hiring. I didn't apply there because it said it was necessary to include a letter saying why you wanted to work there. I've never heard a more ridiculous thing in my life. I NEED TO PAY MY FUCKING BILLS. Add to that the fact that it's a mother-fucking spy shop and thats all the reason I need. Hopefully if I just walk-in and inquire, I won't need to explain my desire to may my bills with their paychecks. The gentleman inside tells me they are indeed still hiring, but they do not have any real applications.

Clerk: "Do you have a resume? You can just leave that"

Me: [Shit, I knew I forgot something before I left New York, I wanted to print a stack to bring with me] "I don't have any one me, I'll bring some by tomorrow"

Luckily he didn't strike me as management, so bad first impression narrowly avoided. Avi offered to let me print some, so I'll take him up on that and return tomorrow. Next few places are not hiring but "We're always taking applications!" I work in retail, I know what that means, my application will become the piece of scrap paper you write on the back of when you can't find anything else. So I keep moving. Boudin Sourdough has a huge bakery/restaurant/bar/cafe rigt near Pier 39, they actually are hiring so I fill out the application and hope for the best. Onto Pier 39.

Never been here? Without a doubt the most highly visited tourist spot in the city. Not really much to see here though, just alot of overpriced shopping ($45 for a Boondock Saints t-shirt!) and some worthless dirty seals. Unfortunatley EVERY store here said they're not hiring till the summer (late May, early June). Onto the Ferry Building.

Unused since the 50's, this place was renovated in 2003 into an upscale gourmet marketplace. I would love to work here. Again everyone is saying they're not hiring but "They're taking applications!" One shining light is a place named Sur La Table, an upscale kitchen supply store. Like Bed, Bath, and Beyond but alot smaller and without all of the suck. They are hiring and the manager is in today!

Manager: "Sure! let me get you an application. [rummages in some drawers] Sorry, we're out of applications. You can just leave your resume"

Me: [FUCK! foiled again!] "Is it ok if I drop it off tomorrow?"

I found a nice cafe to sit and fill out all of the applications I had collected and eat my lunch (an organic apple and asian pear I bought at the Ferry Building farmer's Market). Applications I filled out today: another coffee shop, a chocolate store, a huge gift shop at Pier 39, Cold Stone Creamery, and the Boudins Sourdough Bakery. I've seen plenty of fast food places (McDonalds, In-N-Out, Burger King, etc...) I know from working at Wendy's, that these places are always looking for people. So, if noone else wants to hire me, I will start applying at those places.

Took a few relaxing hours lying in a park reading my book [I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, read it, seriously], then back to the hostel for some much needed rest.

[Bow and exit]

Not much longer now...

Here I sit in at JFK International Airport, waiting to leave behind everyone and everything I've ever known. I spent 28 years in the same small town (save for four years at college), and I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't getting a bit emotional.









As I walked through my house last night, doing my final check for anything that might have been left behind, I found myself a bit choked up. Not only have I lived in the same house my entire life, I've also owned it for the past three years. I've spent considerable time and money repairing this and that, painting nearly every surface, and just generally trying to make it my own. You'd be hard pressed to find anything in the house that I didn't either install myself or repair in some way, shape, or form. This has created an even stronger emotional bond with me, above the fact that I was raised there. Sadly though, it was not meant to be, after the 24k that I got from my mothers life insurance was gone, I could no longer pay the mortgage. I am certainly going to miss having a place to call my own, somewhere I call the shots, my HOME.

I'm gonna miss my friends and family most of all. I've forged wonderful relationships with amazing people during my time in Newburgh. Holly and her wonderful magazine and shows, which helped me to get out of the house I spent too much time with and meet new people, Pratty, without whom there are days I wouldn't have made it through, nor would I be the person I am today (I love you Sarah, and forever will), Arielle and Rich, who have made the last 9 months or so some of the most fun I've had, and of course my family. My wonderfully loving, sarcastic and funny family.

I want to write more, but my flight is boarding in half an hour and I need to get through security. More to come...

Got through security with no problems, just waiting to board. I love everybody in NY and I'm going to miss you all terribly.