No Flowers in My Hair

Brief post from San Fransisco. I'm in the common room of the Adelaide Hostel, where my friend Sue is staying, and where there is free wireless access. Sue is upstairs showering or fiddling with headshots for the opening of her show tonight, and Sue's director, Braden, is hanging out in the room.

Yesterday I met Sue, Braden, and our stage manager, J. B. at the hostel, and we briefly paper teched the show. Then we went to the theater and met with the production manager for the EXIT Theatre, a mellow woman named Amanda, and our technician Jean Pierre. We teched for two and a half hours, which was largely spent setting light and sound levels and figuring out what the theater had to offer us. It's a nice little space. Not quite what you'd call a black box, but close.

Afterward, we got lunch at a Thai place and went to Haight-Ashbury to shop for sweaters and be tourists for a while. I'm not much for being a tourist, personally, even when I technically am a tourist, so I was very happy when Braden called a friend of his and she invited us to hang out in her apartment for a while. Ended the night in the hostel talking theatre and life with Braden and Sue until I realized I had better get back to Oakland before the buses stop running (which it turns out never happens...). I spent the night in my friend Whitney's garage (which she and her roommates have converted into an incredibly comfortable, if completely no-frills guest house), and woke up this morning for vegan breakfast with tofu scramble and uberhealthy smoothies with Whitney.

And that pretty much catches you up on what I've done.

A few quick impressions of the city: San Fransisco is beautiful, absolutely beautiful. It's lush and green, even now in the dry season when the hills in the distance are dried wheatgrass brown. The people I've met are friendly and open. There's a sense of community that reminds me of the way things were in Asheville, but in a larger city and with a truer feel to them. People feel genuinely nice. Not just faux nice. This morning on the BART, I made conversation with several total strangers. They acted as though that was the most natural thing in the world.

I find I have an intuitive sense of how to find my way around the city that I didn't get from Chicago for several years. It just makes sense the way things splice together. The way cities in Europe made sense, even though their streets were winding crystalline arrangements of alleys and back alleys. The way New York makes sense to me. And Philly. The air here is sweet and fresh and cool. It's invigorating.

In short, this city feels like an old friend who I just met.