Taken with picplz at 667 O'Farrell Apartments in San Francisco, CA.

After all the complaining I did this morning about my rhinovirus I
have to admit it's been a real blessing being cooped up in my
apartment these past few days with tons of old belongings I just moved
from storage. With the rain pecking at my windows and my friends being
flakes I can't say I feel I'm missing out on much. I've really enjoyed
rediscovering my domestic side as I cooked a meal for the first time
in literally years, and made iced tea last night. I have an old La
Pavoni lever espresso machine I found on the sidewalk when I lived in
the Mission that's begging for some fresh ground local roasted coffee,
and an old chrome waffle iron I bought at a flea market in Oklahoma
that needs to be heated up too.

Tonight I'm making chocolate instant pudding, which I found in my box
of miscellaneous pantry items that's been sealed up since I moved out
of the one bedroom my girlfriend and I shared in '09. The box says
"Great Value", the Wal-Mart store brand, meaning it must've come with
me in that U-haul trailer I towed from the apartment I shared with my
sister back in '06. Having brought a lot of Wal-Mart goods with me
from Arkansas, it always made it easy to know what belonged to me when
it came time to pack up and move out. That package of pudding would
have sat unused in one other apartment in the Lower Haight for a year,
and probably two more storage units as well. I don't even want to
count the number of times I must've lifted the weight of that pudding
packet only to have it sit waiting to be turned into a creamy
chocolatey goodness. Tonight it's journey is complete, and I will soon
have it's weight lifted from my hands and deposited in my belly. Best
of all, there's still one more box to go!

I did much complaining on Tuesday as I lugged box after anonymous box
up stairs and down hallways until I could barely move around in my
small studio apartment. I felt like I had just unnecessarily
complicated my lightweight minimalist existence with stuff I hadn't
had a use for in the years they've sat in storage. However, as I dig
through books, movies, framed photographs, and dishes that I have
managed to live my life without, I feel like an archaeologist
unearthing a way of life long forgotten. These things, though not
exactly necessary for survival, remind me of parts of my past that I
haven't been reminded of in ages. I've been in San Francisco five
years now, and I've been sad because I don't feel like I've yet gained
anything, but these useless artifacts remind me of all the places I've
been, and the things I've seen. My old art projects from college, the
magazines I bought in Argentina, even the NES I grew up playing as a
kid. I've come a really long way these 28 years

Oh yeah, my birthday is on the 24th! Who's taking me to dinner!?

It can hardly be believed but tonight I woke up in such a state if disease that I employed the time-honored folk-remedy of gargling hot salt-water in an attempt to stop the spreading infection. When I rolled onto one side of my head halfway through the night I felt a sharp congested pain in my left ear. My sleeping brain accompanied the sensation with visions of dancing to electronic music at Burning Man; a fitting analogy for the throbbing irritation I am experiencing if there is one. This was in addition to and likely because of the sore throat which has tormented me for several days. So great was my irritation that the thought of pouring hot iodized water down my nasal passages seemed like it might bring some relief. As a child I was almost certain that this ritual was a sadistic treat my mother saved for her most desperate hour trying to soothe a sick child that simply wouldn't let her sleep. Even now having applied this barbaric treatment to myself I can't be sure whether it was the gargling or the violent wretching that inevitably followed which brought relief. However, I do believe it has made swallowing easier and--perhaps by virtue of the tears it brought to my eyes--helped to clear the clogged nasal passage on the same side as my ringing ear. Next I think I shall try another folk-remedy that my mother never availed me of; whiskey!

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