Project Dissertation

I moved to this fabulous city three years ago mainly to; be near an airport for travel, be able to not trade my stilletos for trainers, and to finish my doctoral studies in four years. Yes, that pretty much sums up my priorities at 30. So now I am ABD with nine months to go and San Francisco is no easy city to ignore. Although, I would argue that each experience that deters my academic writing is really just needed inspiration. Welcome and I hope you enjoy...

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Location: San Francisco, California, United States

Bilingual, Bicultural, and Dual Citizen. J School B.A., M.A. in High Incidence Disabilities, & ABD in Education.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Love Happens

The Carnaval SF theme seemed infectious. Although overcast skies meant missing the parade, did make it out to the street fair. My favorite was the big hot vat of sizzling oil that was serving up crisp hot churros street side- just like Tijuana. My girlfriends were less enthusiastic about some of my traditions, like having to join the drum circle, but we walked out on a perfect note- Los Lonely Boys singing how far is heaven... Hip-Cha.

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I can't imagine how we sounded on the bus. Buzzed on our way to a carnaval after party to get our samba fix. Arguing in rapid Spanish about, umm...my intelligence in relation to my appearance?

I looked up in the middle of it to make sure we hadn't missed our stop to the festivities. I noticed a couple staring right at me- guilty as I blurted, "endonde estamos," they blurted in English the street name. I asked how far till 6th street? Do the numbers go up or down? All things I knew when sober.

That settled I got back to my fiery display. Without skipping a beat I got up at our stop, without him. The Lesbian couple followed me with their eyes before they took pity on him, and told him that was his stop too. I flashed them a smile of thanks, and once we hit the street it was all good. Cha-Hip.

*

There was a little plank of wood we sat on to look at the ocean. The sun was out, the wind was sharp. My friend was feeling melancholy for a country deep in South America, and this was our intervention.

Heard stories of growing up seaside, jumping into the ocean in Sunday best. That's what happened when parent's sometimes trusted the children to go to church without them. Then there was the summer story, decided to live with friends, "was a hippy," until mom came and retrieved you back to home.

Taking in the sun, from the looks of Ocean Beach, no one really minded a little wind.

Across the street the Park Chalet was overflowing with people setting down their own blankets and setting up there own chairs to indulge in the lawn and microbrew on the last section of Golden Gate Park before you meet the ocean.

Beer in hand, we found a piece of lawn to set our selves down on. Sat there on my scarf a makeshift seat, the sun was perfect I could have sat there all afternoon.

2 Comments:

Blogger El Editor said...

Wow! Sounds more serious than I thought. My advise - enjoy the moment.

8:56 AM  
Blogger Lorena said...

re-divertido Che!

5:09 PM  

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