2012... What a jerk

Oh my, it’s been a long time. I wish I could say I’ve been too busy to blog because I’ve been living a fabulous San Francisco life.  I haven’t.  As a matter of fact, this has been one shitty year. Honestly, I’ve had worse times in my life.  However, I set out in 2012 to live with more intensity, to accomplish goals, to become a better person. I didn’t do much to accomplish any of those things.  I’ve been a lazy bitch. Here’s the skinny on what went down in 2012 (or what didn't). 

When I came to San Francisco in April, I was bursting with naïve optimism.  I had lined up an awesome apartment, met some wonderful new peeps, and I had found a job that seemed to be a good opportunity.  It turned out to be four months of verbal abuse with low pay and high stress.  Mostly that stress came from fear of being yelled at at any moment by one of the most intimidating, awful people I've ever met. My boss even said in a meeting one day that he wanted to put a sign up in the office with a picture of the Auschwitz sign that says "Live to work, work to live."  That was my cue to get the fuck out.  I spent April-August in a miserable work situation that made me hate my very existence.  I cried most days wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into.  Not only was my job shit, but the stress made me a rotten bitch who was difficult to live with.  My poor roommate bore the brunt of that abuse.  In my defense, I still maintain that he is a disgrace to gay men.  Seriously, who doesn’t wipe kitchen counters?!  I kid.

My now former roommate is a great guy, and he really made my early months in SF bearable.  In spite of how much better my life was in the evenings by watching endless episodes of Weeds, I nearly returned to Oklahoma.  Nearly.  When it became apparent to my employer that I didn’t operate well under the model of fear based motivation, they laid me off.  It was the single most liberating moment of 2012 for me. I knew immediately what had to happen.  I had to move out of my apartment and figure something out. My upstairs neighbors were oh so gracious to have me in their home for a little over a month, and they still speak to me!   I spent that month looking for work, barely making it on what little unemployment I was receiving. When it was time to move on, I went to Sonora, a couple hours from the city, to stay with my Mom.  I spent a few weeks there until I received a job offer in Oakland. That was actually a great time for me and my Mom.  We were two bachelorettes conquering the DVR and creating memories via the Wii.  After receiving a job offer, I realized I didn't have enough money to even get to the bay area, let alone enough to sustain me until I received my first paycheck.  I swallowed my pride and went to emailing a bunch of very dear friends in Oklahoma who all contributed over $1000 inside of 48 hours.  It was that moment that shaped my outlook for the coming year.  In spite of everything, I am loved, and I am not alone.  

In my search for a place to live, I met a wonderful couple my age through the Bay Area Reddit Users Group (mad shout out to the fantastic Sam and Joe!) and they offered their spare room for rent (seriously, I love the internet).  It was only for a short term, but it was something, and it allowed me to be in Oakland to start my new job in early October. By November I had found a new apartment sans roommates.  So here we are.  I live in the attic of a 140 year old Victorian in Oakland.  My San Francisco dream didn’t turn out the way I thought.  I’m in Oakland, just across the bay and I can’t help but feel like I’ve been thrust into purgatory.  Although it’s just a waiting period, I signed a year lease, and I plan on using that year in Oakland to get my shit together so I can return to the city I love.  Oakland isn’t so bad.  It’s flat, which is great for this fat ass who has taken up a bicycle over a car, and the gang violence they talk about on television is really isolated to certain parts of the city, which I am not in.

In spite of all the things I cut myself down for not having accomplished, I must point out that I accomplished one huge part of my dream.  I moved to San Francisco.  I can’t believe that I’m here. Every time I get off the train and step off the escalator onto Market Street I get this brief high.  It’s just an amazing place.  It’s everything Oklahoma wasn’t.  I feel, for the first time ever, that I am exactly where I need to be.  While it’s difficult and I have my moments of loneliness and bitterness accompanied by doubt, fear, and regret, I accomplished something huge this year, and I’m pretty fucking proud of that.

So here’s to 2012, I’m glad you’re gone.  And here’s to 2013, may we always remember that life is what we make it. We control our destinies, and no one else can stop us if we know what we want.

So here are my goals for 2013:

Stop worrying-

A friend of mine pointed out to me how much I worry.  It's stuck with me, and I'm trying really hard to overcome that.  Here's to a worry free 2013. 

Foster deeper, more meaningful friendships-

Most importantly, I need to foster deeper relationships with the AMAZING people I’ve met since arriving here.  I need to make more time to spend time with these remarkable people.   

Be… not a fatass-

As I say every year, I need to lose weight.  I’m a fat ass. There’s no way around it.  I know it, everyone around me knows it, let’s just get past the niceties and point out the elephant in the room. I have no real plan, but to be more conscious of what I eat.  I’m hoping that having adopted a new mode of transportation will help with this.  I'm not going to say that my goal is to lose weight, so much as it's to make healthier decisions. 

Date-

Seriously, It’s been 14 months since I had my heart ripped from my chest. I think most days that I’m ready, but I find myself still talking about him, or even blaming him for the way things have turned out for me. Then again, it’s a heart knowledge versus head knowledge.  I know that him leaving was the best choice for both of us.  I tell myself that daily, but you know.  It’s hard ‘n shit (that's for you Dan). But it’s obvious that it’s time to move on. I’m hoping to do that in the coming months.

Write/Blog-

I want so badly to write more, not just blog, but I think I might finally carve out  some time to write at length about my experiences with having AIS. It’s something I’ve become increasingly more open about and I’m passionate about educating people on the variations in how we each experience the very mutually exclusive male/female gender farce.  I’m quite obviously decidedly female, as AIS doesn’t really allow for too much gender ambiguity.  However, I have made some wonderful transgendered friends in San Francisco who, in spite of what my Oklahoma roots have taught me, are well adjusted, wonderful people who happen to have been born into the wrong body.

Sell my car-

The most painful decision I’ve made since I’ve been here is that I no longer need  my car.  I have decided to sell my dearest Ziggy.  We had a good ride, now it’s time for me to ride my bike off into the sunset and rid myself of the insurance and loan payments.

Pay off my credit cards. Again. –

Seriously, do we ever fucking learn?  Also, I plan on making a dent in my student loans.

Stop being a jerk-

Meaning… follow through with promises.  I’m terrible at that.  Terrible.  I have no excuse, except that I’m a lazy bitch. 

Routines and Things

I’m here.  I’m here in the wonderful city of San Francisco.  I’m in a little café in the Mission district with the aroma of hot panini sandwiches hanging on the air like a thick, delicious fog.  I’m surrounded by all kinds of interesting folks.  In the corner is a gentleman who I’m positive is a spy of some sort.  He keeps looking at the door like he’s expecting his evil arch nemesis to saunter in and challenge him to a super secret laser gun duel a la Dr. Horrible.  Behind the counter is a very sweet older Asian gentleman who clearly takes pride in his sandwiches, sandwiches I’m told are known around the city as the best.  The tiny shop is full of people on their laptops, banging away at the keys, hammering out some novella they’ve had trapped in their heads for months, or simply finishing up the day’s work.  It’s a nice quiet atmosphere.  It’s the picture of San Francisco, and I love it.  I couldn’t be happier.

In the months leading up to my departure from Oklahoma, some suggested that my move to San Francisco was an ill conceived plan for me to run away from my problems. It was forecasted to end in disaster.  While I’ve only been here somewhere in the neighborhood of a month, I think I can safely say that it hasn’t ended in disaster, nor will it.  I’m learning my way around the city without a GPS, thankyouverymuch.  I’m astonished daily at the breathtaking beauty this city has to offer.  Around every corner is a sight to behold.  Granted sometimes the sight is someone taking a piss on the sidewalk, but it’s not all that often, and honestly, not really all that noticeable.  Of course, as with any adventure, it’s not always sunshine and rainbows.  There’s the occasional fog, and sometimes a jerk hits your car and doesn’t leave a note… but that’s a story for a different day! You came here to read the exciting adventures of an Oklahoma girl. 

My arrival here was met with little fanfare.  There was a quick hello on the street with my new roommate and then, my new life began.  It began rather quickly.  I unloaded my car and shortly came to the realization of just how much I had packed into my very tiny Volkswagen.  It seemed like so little when I was leaving behind a whole house full of stuff. I never thought about the magnitude of things I would be fitting into a single room, and I hadn’t even added furniture.  My roommate (whom I’ll tell you all about another time) ventured to IKEA with me straight away.  It was a bit of a trip for this Oklahoma girl.  It’s like Sweden and Wal-Mart had a love child, it’s fantastic, and it’s my new crack.  I furnished my entire bedroom for $800 INCLUDING the U-Haul I had to rent to get it all home.  The U-Haul was an experience in and of itself.  IKEA is located just over the Oakland Bay Bridge in a nice area adjacent to Oakland.   Yes, that Oakland.  The very same Oakland you hear about on television.  As it turns out, this place was not only IN Oakland, but in the heart of the worst possible part of Oakland.  So here we were, a Colorado hipster and his naïve Oklahoma transplant of a roommate, in the heart of the worst part of the whole of the San Francisco bay Area. 

We got off of the freeway and we were immediately deposited onto MacArthur Boulevard.  I kid you not when I say that everything on this street was covered in graffiti.  When I say graffiti, I don’t mean the works of art that you see in the Subways of New York, or the murals on the sides of buildings.  I’m talking about tags, some punk’s initials.  There were tags everywhere, and on everything.  For dramatic and/or hilarious effect, imagine a dog walking down the street with some punk’s initials spray painted on his side.  It was that bad.  As we ventured slowly down Mac Arthur, we came upon a scene straight out of COPS.  There were at least 6 police cars, and a dozen officers surrounding one dude on the sidewalk, with all their weapons drawn.  On one corner of the street stood a group of young, rather hard looking men wearing red, and a little further down the street was a group of young, rather hard looking men wearing blue.  This was no soccer match.  I picked up my U-Haul and jetted my way out of there as fast as I could.  It was such a huge difference from the area surrounding the IKEA just a mile or so away. It became very real that I wasn’t in Oklahoma anymore. 

The weeks subsequent my arrival were mostly filled with building a routine.  Truvy handles the routine thing well.  We start our day every morning at 5, okay 5:30, okay… 5:45.  We take a walk around the block and when we return, I feed her and then I start my flight of the bumblebee morning routine to get ready, as I’m usually late because my lazy ass stayed in bed too long.  I have to be at work at 7, so there’s very little traffic out at 6:45.  It only takes me 15 minutes to get to work.  It’s quite nice.  I started my new job just a few short days after I arrived.  I was immediately thrown into a new area of the construction industry I’ve never been a part of.  It was scary, it was fast, and it was overwhelming.  In the weeks since, I’ve found my sweet spot at the office.  I’ve settled into my job nicely and I’m getting to know everyone.  I’m still gazing out my office window for short intervals throughout the day, in awe of the fact that I am here.  I still feel like I’m on a long vacation most days.  All the guys at the office tell me to hang onto that.  I still can’t believe I’ve done this.  I’m so very proud of myself, and also very excited for what’s in store.  I know it will take me years to see all that this city has to offer, so I feel like a perpetual tourist. 

The hardest part, as with any move, is meeting people.  I have a wonderful friend in Marin, just north of the city, and I’ve met a couple of people from the local atheist group, but most days I’m at home with my roommate. I’m forcing myself to attend at least one meetup a week.  I’m hoping this will prove a good way to meet new people.  I’m not going to lie, it gets lonely.  If you know me at all, you know how much of a social butterfly I am.  It pains me to be stuck at home, and it pains me that I have no one to share $2.00 beer night with at the OSHA Thai on Union.  TWO DOLLAR BEER NIGHT.  Those are Oklahoma prices!  So I’m hoping I can make a friend to share a cold one with.  For now, I’ll drink to my friends back in Oklahoma whom I miss more and more everyday.  

The Irony of a Broken Dream

Welcome to my new blog! Welcome to SFOkie.com I'll be posting much more now that I'm beginning a new adventure. This is the easiest way for everyone back in Oklahoma to keep up with the sitcom that's about to become my life.

Its ironic that from the most heartbreaking moment of of my life, the beginning of something greater was born. It's crazy how things change. Six months ago I would have said I would be planning a late summer wedding. I would have said we would live in Oklahoma and grow old here with our brood of adopted offspring. I would have been very wrong, and very naive. It was only five months ago that he left (most days it feels like 5 years). Some would say I went off the deep end. I would say I simply opened the flood gates of all I was holding back in the name of love. I'm about to live my dream, a dream that would never have been possible if I were tied to the most cautious and unadventurous of men.


Originally, when I made the overwhelming decision to make this move, I had planned to have the house sold by mid April and whether or not I had a job I'd be leaving in early May. Things never work according to plan. The house isn't sold and I already have a job. I leave April 16, and I'm nowhere near ready. I've found a fantastic place to live in a great location in San Francisco, just a few blocks from the ocean and Golden Gate Park. More importantly, I've found a great job that I'm super excited to dive into. It's a new area of expertise for me, but it will utilize the entirety of my skill set. I can't wait to see what happens. I'm stupefied at how fast this is happening. In just seven days days I'll be heading West toward my life's dream. It hardly feels real.

I Left My Heart in San Francisco

On May 3rd, 2003, I came to Oklahoma City with barely anything at all. If all goes well, I’ll be leaving almost 9 years to the day after I arrived in OKC. For those of you who don’t know, I’m about to embark on the greatest adventure of my life. I’ve always said that if I could live anywhere, I would live in San Francisco. So… I’m selling everything and moving to San Francisco. More on that later… In my last post, I said of 2012: “I hope that there will be an uptick in the intensity with which I live my life.” In all my years, the one thing I’ve never done is chase a dream, I spent a lot of time pining for the day that my dreams would come true. If you’ve known me for any length of time you’re probably thinking I’ve gone off the deep end. I want, simply, to enjoy my life. It’s time for me to do the opposite of sane, safe, and stable. My emotions vary from scared shitless to sadness. I’m scared that I’ll end up not finding a good job and having to live in the tenderloin, carrying pepper spray with me everywhere. I’m scared that I’ll get mugged, or have my phone stolen right out of my hands, I’m sad that I’m leaving behind a great job, my kitty cats, my handsome little Chuck Chuck, and some AMAZING people, some of whom I’m just getting to know. However, in spite of all of that, I’m excited. For once in my life I’m doing something not out of consideration for others, but for myself. I honestly believe that it’s what’s best for me.

Isn't it beautiful? Hills! Actual hills!

But, why San Francisco? If you’ve never been there, it may seem nuts. Most people seem to think it’s full of bums, transvestites, and it has constant earthquakes. That’s not entirely true. It does have those things, but the earthquakes aren’t constant, the bums are mostly confined to the sketchy parts of town, and the transvestites, well I don’t see where the drawback is. As a woman with abnormally GIANT feet, I’m super excited at the prospect of making friends with whom I might be able to share fabulous shoes. San Francisco is the second most densely populated city in the US (17,000+/sq. mile). Coming from Oklahoma City, one of the most spread out cities in America (density of less than 1,000/sq. mile), that’s going to be quite a change. I’m going from living in a modestly sized 2 bedroom house with a big yard that I have all to myself into either a rented room or a one room studio where I’ll have to fight for parking and listen to my neighbors have sex. If the city chews me up and spits me out, Oklahoma will always be here. I feel that, if nothing else, this adventure will grow me in ways I just can’t possibly fathom right now. I just long for a change in scenery, and that tight feeling in my chest that lets me know that I’m alive. I can’t wait to see where this leads me. I need an adventure, and more importantly, I need to leave behind the stagnancy I’ve found myself in.

The thing I’m most excited about is being closer to my Sister and her big dumb husband (I love you Tim!), my Mom and my niece and nephew who will be just a short 2 ½ hour drive away. The bonus to all of that is that THE Emma is just a few miles North of San Francisco in San Rafael. She’s a wonderful British transplant whom I met through NewBeetle.org. She’s been a wonderful encouragement and I’m so glad she’ll be nearby. I just hope she realizes how much I may rely on her in the beginning. Like, for example, when I can’t pay my rent after I haven’t found a job and I get arrested for prostitution trying to make ends meet. I just know that dear sweet Emma will be there to bail me out.

Looking back over the last few months since Ryan left, I’ve had a tremendous change in my ideals. Having experienced a loss that I honestly, very naively thought I would never have to experience, I realized something about myself. Having been faced with the failure of a relationship I had hoped would last a lifetime, I came to a difficult realization; I’m not entirely sure that marriage and family are what I want. For the first time in my life I’m okay with that. I’m not in a hurry to meet someone new, I don’t care if I ever do at this point. I know that will change. but for now, I’m perfectly content. That's a feeling I’ve never truly known, only something I feigned.

I’m hoping to leave May 5th, pending the sale of my house. As I’ve been doing my early preparations, I’ve discovered just how much crap one can accumulate in 9 years time. I’ve found boxes of stuff I haven’t touched in 2 years or more, clothes I haven’t worn in nearly as long, and bills dating back 5 years. It’s ridiculous. I’m excited to continue my love affair with this amazing city with a clean slate. No baggage, not so much “stuff”, just me, my dog, my car, and a dream in my heart. I hope I have a super sassy gay roommate.