I picked up this book for five dollars at a bookstore while we were in Napa this weekend. The cover caught my eye, and I'm always a sucker for collections of essays/memoirs. But I was especially struck by the subtitle: Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone.

If you know me, you know that I'm not a solitary person. I love being with others, living with others, sharing and talking and laughing and eating with other people.

But I'm at a strange place now. It's the holidays. First the first time in my life, I'm living completely on my own. My parents have just left. I'm suddenly single - the one person that I even semi-regularly cooked for is utterly and completely gone. My evenings consist of coming home, walking and feeding Oliver, making something small to eat, sitting at my computer and working on graduate applications, and then watching episodes of Angel. And it's quiet. And no one talks, except for me occasionally speaking to Oliver.

A few years back, I found myself at a restaurant in Georgetown, eating by myself (which later inspired a poem*). It was such a new and strange experience. I loved it and hated it. I find, now, that I am there again... contemplative and lonely and solitary and strange and self-reliant and sensual and independent and sorrowful and joyful and deeply, deeply weird.

I'm a few essays into Eggplant, and already I love the way that these themes are emerging and intertwining with my own life. I need to re-learn to be alone, and be okay. And know that there are always people around if I need them.

But it's okay to be alone, in the kitchen, with an eggplant. Or a pomegranate, as the case may be.



*When Miranda Goes Out To Eat By Herself

She tastes like salt and
smells like water. She eats
salmon, loose and geometric,
wraps her legs around black
wrought iron chair legs.

She edges away at the butter
as though she is searching for
something. She buries her thumb
in the lemon wedge. She yearns
for brackish waters.

She pries into the strong clams
hot mussels
slick oysters
She dislodges every one, cracking the shells
against their hinges, each small, solid heart
tugged from its cage. In her mouth they are smooth and
milky, they are other tongues; her mouth is full of
tongues that are not hers, sea tongues,
salt tongues. Sand grains crunch in her teeth, and
the shells drift in their own misty brine.
She runs her fingers through the water for remains.
She presses bony shards between her fingers. She
crushes them into small mountains of calcium.

She reaches for her sweaty glass, trembling
with crushed ice. She washes them down. She
roots through her damp pockets for more than
they cost and less than they are worth.

She leaves her shoes sitting on the chair. She
marches towards the sea.

It's been really amazing having my parents here. They've been keeping my mind off things and spoiling me: Christmas decorations for my apartment, groceries, new shoes, a new coat because I didn't have one, new sheets...

We went up to Napa & Sonoma counties and also Sausalito this weekend. Friday was the V. Sattui Winery and Castello di Amorosa. Castello di Amorosa was very pretty but otherwise unspectacular; V. Sattui, however, was AMAZING. Amazing wine (I bought a bottle of Gamay Rouge, which was sweet and delicious, and also a bottle of port, because I am freaking awesome), amazing food, absolutely lovely.

They had a marketplace full of delicious, fantastic food - meats and cheeses and olives and breads and sauces and it was fantastic. When we sat down to have lunch, the couple sitting across the table from us got engaged, right there! That's the second time that strangers have gotten engaged less than a foot away from me.

Sausalito was lovely. The weather was perfect. We met up with my uncle's brother (who's a firefighter in SF and a really sweet guy) and ate seafood and went into cute boutiques. One, called Hubba Hubba, had these GORGEOUS pashmina/silk scarves for $20. The one that I got is this beautiful olive and eggplant colored pattern. I mean, $20! What a deal.

We've also been having dinner with lots of folks while they've been here. We ate at Frances and Jonathan's one night, had a fun Thanksgiving with rebellibrarian and bigmeaniejerk, and also had dinner at Mary Kay's - she's the woman who lives in the big white house. She's super nice, and Oliver loves playing with her (very large but sweet) dog. She was shocked to learn that I hadn't been to Yosemite, and said "Next time I go, you should come with me."

There are a few problems with my apartment that I need to figure out. There's some mildew that's showing up in a very specific spot in my apartment. My mom and I cleaned it off with bleach/water, and now two weeks later, it's coming back. The gas heater is also not working right - I've been using my space heater, but I'd like to heat my whole apartment and not just a three foot circle around my desk. I know I should just call my landlady, but I'm slightly worried that the mildew is from something that needs a ton of work.

My apartment looks awesome, though - covered in Christmas lights and my little tree and garland and lights around the window and a wreath on the door.

I signed the paperwork, paid the first month's rent, and I can start moving into my cottage whenever I want.

OMG.

I should probably point out that this is the first time in my life that I've ever lived on my own on my own. Like, not with a friend, or a roommate, or a family member. Now, it's just me and Oliver. Oliver is kinda like a roommate, except that he doesn't pay rent, steals the blankets, and eats the food that I buy.

Freeloader.

So, the last month has been particularly challenging for me for a lot of reasons.

I finally realized recently that I am really, really unhappy with my living situation. I went into a real depression/funk when Sarah left for graduate school, and taking on a total stranger who cooks gross smelling meat and doesn't clean was not the best idea.

But I dealt with it, because I needed a roommate. All I wanted is someone who would pay their share of the rent.

... oops.

He didn't pay August's utilities. When I reminded him, he said that he'd get me the money. September rolled around. He paid the rent, but not the utilities, again. Then October came. He called me to say that he was sorry, but he didn't have the rent. He said that he had about half (NOT including the utilities that he still owed me).

He said that I could just pay my half, and then he'd just be late with the landlord with his half. I told him no, that I have an impeccable rent record. I told him that I'd pay the whole thing, but that he would have to pay me within ten days.

It really fucked up my finances big time. I ended up with fees, my checking account depleted, my savings half gone... it was a mess. And I was PISSED. Obviously. I made him sign a contract agreeing to pay me back everything, plus the fees, plus the owed utilities.

Well, the deadline has come and gone, and I haven't seen him in three days. His shit's still here, so he hasn't left, but he's avoiding me.

I am so done with this bullshit. For fuck's sake, you're a grown man. You're as old as my father. And you back out on the rent that you owe your 20-something roommate?

So I called my landlady. Who I love, btw. She calls me her "second daughter" and is this funny, sweet, short woman with curly hair and lipstick on her teeth. She took me around to four studios in Berkeley, all within walking distance of my office. They were all really lovely (if you ever need an apartment in Oakland or Berkeley, hit me up for her number - she has the cutest, quirkiest places), but I fell in love with this gorgeous little in-law behind a larger house. It's right next to Berkeley Bowl, has a fenced-in yard. It's like a very tiny little house, and is covered in gorgeous vines and flowers and has a lime and lemon tree and the renter who rents the main house (which is a historic building, apparently) has a hammock and table with chairs and a hot tub in the backyard.

The in-law itself is a studio, but it's got all kinds of built-in shelving and a tiny little island and skylights and it's seriously amazing. And there's a YARD. And a LIME TREE.

It's more expensive than my current share of the apartment, but I had my year review at work today and got a raise! The new raise almost entirely covers the difference in cost.

Okay, I like lists. So... pros and cons.

PROS

Walking distance to work
Walking distance to Yoga to the People
Walking distance from Berkeley Bowl
Walking distance to BART
(All of the above things mean more walking/biking, which means more exercise)
Adorable in-law
Yard for Oliver
Lime tree
Own space with no creepy/flaky roommate
Can switch internet providers at a convenient time
Landlady says that I can switch my security deposit from old apartment to new one and can move in whenever I want

CONS

More expensive than current situation (BUT offset by raise, and will be saving money on gas anyway)
Smaller space (BUT I can condense my possessions, which is never a bad thing)
Moving is a pain (BUT I have friends who have offered to help me)


So... I think I'm going to call her tomorrow and accept the new place. And I'm going to start moving ASAP.

She said that if the current guy wants to stay in this apartment, he can find a roommate. I'm going to tell him as much. I'm sightly nervous - I hate confrontation, and "I'm moving out in two weeks, so you either need to find someone else, pay up, or leave" is kind of a doozy to drop on anyone. But I don't feel bad I'm working on not feeling bad. Because the dude still over me over $500. If I were a landlord, I could have evicted him two weeks ago.

And also? Not only does he owe me that money, but I have been nagging asking him for the utilities for ages. I sent him polite, itemized emails detailing the utilities and rent, and he has been completely unresponsive. I do not have time for this shit. I'd rather pay more rent than deal with stupid people's crap.

And this new place is so cute. Squee.

I woke up at four in the morning because Oliver was freaking out. He was at the window, barking barking barking barking barking...

"Shut up, Oliver!" I yelled, half asleep. He didn't stop. I rolled over, towards the window.

And I saw lights.

I reached for my glasses as Oliver continued to bark. And I saw flashlight beams.

There were people in my alley.

For those of you who have never been to my apartment: my room faces a courtyard in my building, and I also have a tiny alley that's just mine that runs on the other side. No part of my room faces the street, and while there are occasionally people in the courtyard, there's never anyone in the alley except for me.

I slid out of bed and did a bellycrawl to the window, all while Oliver barked. I peeked over the windowsill. Outside, and on the roof of the next building, and in my alley, were shadowy figures with flashlights.

Ohmygod. Ohmygodohmygod.

One of the shadowy figures on the roof turned, and I saw the outline of a holster.

Oh. Police officers. Okay. Still freaky, but less freaky.

Their flashlight beams danced around some more. I put on a robe and walk outside, where no fewer than eight police officers were congregated in my courtyard. They saw me, and one of them broke away from the group and walks over.

"Hi," I said. "Um, you just scared the living crap out of me and my dog. What's going on?"

"There was a tagger up on the roof next door, but he's gone now," the officer said.

I looked at the group of them. Eight officers? For one petty vandal?

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" he suggested.

Back inside, Oliver had finally stopped barking, and was looking rather pleased with himself, reclining on my bed. I gave him a treat.

"Thanks for looking out for me," I said. "Good boy."

His tail thumped happily on the comforter. We both went back to sleep.

So, I finally found a roommate.

He's not my ideal roommate - he's older than me*, for starters. But he seems nice enough, and wants to rent the extra room and really likes Oliver, and Oliver liked him, and he apparently works a lot and also sometimes goes out of town for long chunks of time. That's fine. I just need someone to rent the damned room so I don't get evicted or eat up my savings or end up on the street in a box.

My roommate doesn't have to be my good friend. I'll just miss, you know, having a roommate who's a good friend.


*Not, like, late twenties older. More like forties older.

Sarah left this morning.

Just now, I was trying to make pot stickers and I ALMOST BURNED DOWN MY ENTIRE KITCHEN.

Send help plz.

A week and a half ago, I set up an appointment with this very cool-sounding girl to come and look at the apartment this morning at 11am. I got up early, cleaned the whole apartment, and was in the middle of straightening my bed when I got a phone call. It was her.

"Ummm... so, I just google mapped the apartment and... ummm... it's not exactly where I want it to be, sooooo... I'm not going to come by. Good luck!"

... thanks. Thanks for waiting until forty-five minutes before you were supposed to show up to bother looking at Google Maps.

I DO NOT GET why it's so hard to rent out this room. The price is reasonable, we're in a decent neighborhood, near the BART station, near downtown Berkeley, near UC-Berkeley, near Berkeley Bowl, the apartment is huge and beautiful... argh. I keep trying to be cool and not worry and trust that everything is going to be okay, but those nagging worrisome thoughts keep creeping back into my head.

I first discovered Freecycle when I kept noticing firinel talking about it, just after I moved to California. For a while, it didn't really matter, because I was basically homeless and was already having enough problems schlepping my own crap from place to place. So I rerouted all Freecycle emails to a seperate folder, marked them automatically read, and forgot about them.

A few weeks ago, with some downtime, I cleaned out the folder and begin to actively monitor it. The problem with Freecycle, of course, is that if something is up for more than 10 minutes, chances are someone's claimed it already. So the only way to really do well is to more or less sit on the email, refreshing occasionally, and responding as quickly as possible.

Since Sarah has been gone, I've managed to acquire the following:

A coffee table shaped like the Star Trek symbol.
An entertainment center
A papasan chair
A huge, comfy, wonderful office chair
A queen sized memory foam mattress topper (brand new)
A bookshelf
Camping gear, like a lantern and sleeping bags
An expresso machine
Pots, pans, dishes
A bamboo rice cooker
An XBox (the green Halo edition)
Art supplies from last year's Burning Man

I also managed to stumble across a local foodie who was moving back to Texas, who gave me canning jars, huge glass jars of different kinds of grains and flour and sugar and wheat, jars of tea, of dried herbs, flavored oils, a huge, unopened bottle of olive oil, and approximately 50 jars of spices, mostly unopened.

Yesterday, I stumbled across a local lesbian activist who was cleaning out her bookshelves and came away with 20 books, mostly about LGBT issues (including The Gender Workbook and Stone Butch Blues).

So, when I say that I recommend Freecycle... I'm not joking. Try it out. Especially if you were like me and really needed to furnish an apartment.

I have not been as productive in months as I have been this weekend. I wrote, managed the Emergency Pager for work, bought sneakers and a few sweaters at ridiculously discounted prices, went to Half Price Books and had gelato with Sarah, went grocery shopping, saw Kat AND KC AND Chris Patrick Morgan AND Frances AND Jonathan, and also... painted the kitchen.

This is what the kitchen used to look like:



And this is what it looks like after Sarah, XP, KC, and I tackled it with two gallons of paint:



I'm incredibly proud of all of us. I also can't wait to tackle the other rooms in the apartment. :)

It was a fantastic weekend. Casey came over Friday night, and Saturday was spent adventuring in Urban Ore (and picking up a pasta pot and a lid for my frying pan for, like, $4) and checking out San Pablo Avenue, including Good Vibrations and this really neat store that had used pianos for $99.

We went to Berkley and had dinner, and then drove back up to the North Bay. Have I mentioned that the North Bay is incredibly beautiful? Casey took me to the Marin Headlands at midnight and we walked on the beach and it was lovely and adorable and and we saw the Milky Way.

Sunday, I met up with rebellibrarian and her husband bigmeaniejerk (who, incidentally, recently lent me practically half of the graphic novels on my list) for dinner. We were going to go to their favorite Cambodian restaurant in Oakland, but it was closed, so we drove to Almeda and had delicious seafood in a restaurant on the Marina. There were peanut shells on the floor.

On the way home from the restaurant, we drove past a yard sale that was about ready to close up. Sitting on the sidewalk was a lovely black couch.

We stopped and I got out and looked at it. It was $30. $30! ZOMG! The problem is that their car was far too small for it. We decided to go and get Beatrice, and hopefully the couch would fit inside and we could tie the trunk down with twine and whatnot.

So we left bigmeaniejerk sitting on the couch with a pretty throw that they threw in for free and a book that he just bought.



And went and got Beatrice. And twine. And pantyhose.

When we came back, we discovered that the couch was too wide for Beatrice. Uh oh. But I was absolutely, positively convinced that we could make it work. "I'm the daughter of an engineer!" I announced, to no one in particular. "I will get this couch home."

We ended up using the twine and pantyhose, as well as rope and wire, to tie the couch to Beatrice's roof. I had to crawl in the driver's seat through the window, and drive with my hazards on at 15 MPH, but we got back and got the couch in the apartment with relatively little difficulty.

It's perfect. And amazingly comfortable.



Did I mention how much I love California, and how lucky I am to know such fantastic people here?

*edit* Here's the living room as it looks now:

I'm alive! After a week and a half of no internet access, my new apartment finally has wireless. So yay! Big long update coming - it's been a crazy ten days.

The new apartment is located near the Oakland/Berkeley border, though it's technically in Emeryville. I am officially in love with it.

So, you'll have to forgive the quality of these pictures - I snapped them off in the middle of moving a bunch of my stuff into my NEW APARTMENT OMG and wasn't very thorough. Even now, as I upload them, I'm realizing that I forgot to take pictures of things. Oh well.

My "yard."



My front porch. The box is for firewood. The landlady says that I can feel free to put plants or whatever I want here.



The front door! It's purple! It also has this crazy manual ringer (the brass thing in the middle) that I had never seen before I came to California.



( the tour continues this way )