daily forecast

This is the hottest day in what feels like months, and I am not used to it. Today, this kind of weather does not make me want to go to the beach, but instead to find some sort of activity which might offset the effects of so much heat (mopiness, lethargy). Ideas include:

1. Figure skating, in a small outfit (no tights), with much body-to-floor contact--easy for me, as I tend to fall most of the time anyway. 

2. A complex and distracting indoor activity, to be completed while eating ice chips.


3. The origami-ing of personal cooling devices, while plans are made for the milder night hours. 


in disguise

Most animal species in the world have developed some kind of natural camouflage, which enables them to find food and avoid attack. Here, the female mimics the background color of her surroundings, thus blending in with the habitat.



My brother's graduation was yesterday. He went to a "progressive" high school in the Haight, so there were no caps or gowns, and the ceremony took place in Stern Grove. It was lovely. Afterward, we ate lunch at a Brazilian restaurant where the waiters bring fourteen different kinds of meat around to your table on skewers. No good for vegetarians, but I think Kira would have liked it. The restaurant was selected, of course, by Jordan, who is a herpetologist and was also the president of his high school's meat club. He got a shout-out from one of the graduation speakers for being paradoxical. In a week he is flying again to Kenya to work with poisonous snakes. 

Jordan, two summers ago:

Here, things are not quite as exciting. But I'm liking nights on 23rd and being with friends and even, a little bit, my job as a receptionist, which requires me to answer calls and arrange food for lunch meetings. Working downtown is more enjoyable now that I can take the J train straight there. In the building's lobby there is a shop that sells candy for ten cents, and Adam works nearby. On the way there, in the mornings, I sip coffee from the donut shop on 24th street. It is hazelnut-flavored and it only costs $1.15. 



In the Muni lot at California and Sutter, buses lie like hibernating bears or sleeping rollie-pollies. The lot can be seen best from above, along the hill of Masonic. I like to take this route to the 38 after going to Trader Joe's, even though it is out of the way and the buses can only be seen by peering through a fence and pulling aside the thicket. There is something benign and endearing about them in this dormant state; they seem incapable of any kind of motion until one is roused to consciousness, then rumbles off sleepily toward Fulton or Geary. 



Rabbit: June! It is fifty-seven degrees out, and despite the foggy weather, it feels finally like summer. At Vassar the change in seasons could be charted visually--in the growth of new leaves on elm and beech and Russian olive trees, or the yellow opening of the tulip bulbs circled in front of Main Building. But here the landscape stays the same, and the signifiers are different. Friends come home from school, street fairs begin, spring internships are traded for summer jobs. 

Mostly, I think, knowing I won't be here for much longer makes everything feel sweeter, more potent. It's as though the sensory aspects of summer native to most places (heat, for instance) have been replaced by an increased mental sensitivity. I've started thinking things like, In a few months I won't walk up the Castro hills/ride the 24/pass the strange houses on Elizabeth on the way to my apartment every day. I've even started to feel nostalgic about the living room furnace, a slotted brown box the size of a microwave. Must turn off brain. 

Anyway! Ali, my Vassar baby, came to visit from the East Coast this weekend. We rode the 24 from the Mission to Union, visited Nora's lingerie store on Haight, inspected purple potatoes at the Noe Valley Farmers Market, and watched a fight at Adam's (I covered my eyes). Also had sangria at Esperpento with G, wound through Golden Gate Park, ate the city's biggest burritos, and read about eye yoga in Green Apple. And made pancakes! Nom. 

Then we made a film to document the trip.