Moose in the Kitchen

I’m loving my neighborhood these days. Eight months ago I was planning to move into a bigger place where I could get a dog. Three months ago I was planning to move to whatever hovel in Chinatown would save me the most money. But I wasn’t finding anything that felt right (hovels rarely do) and moving is such a pain in the ass. Then my landlady offered to come down a bit on the rent, and now I’m staying for awhile. And not a week has gone by in the last month when I haven’t discovered someone else who lives on my block. A guy from my old job just moved in next door. My editor from a new(ish) job just moved one street over. After beer dodgeball last week, we went back to a friend-of-a-friend’s house for beef brisket and bourbon. Turns out he lives three doors down from me. As I was fumbling with my keys at the door tonight, the blare of a distant horn intruded on the music blasting through my headphones. So I extricate myself and the distant horn becomes much less distant as I realize the car of origin is right in front of me and I really need to start turning down the volume on my ipod. Friend o’ beef brisket and his girlfriend are yelling at me from their car. So we talk Bay to Breakers strategy and I get what might be the first fist bump of my entire life before I turn around to go inside and manage to trip over a parked car. (Yes, really.) (Shut up.)

The Life, Awesome switch flipped recently (one must enjoy the switch flip because you never know when some jerk with a grudge and a case of halitosis will flip it right back again) and now I keep getting emails from my mother – who can track my movements much more closely now that she found my Twitter account – saying things like, “WHY ARE YOU GOING TO FLORIDA?” and “HOW ON EARTH DO YOU GET TO GO TO QUINCE?” (She doesn’t actually use all those caps in her emails, but they’re implied.) Subtext being: Why are you borrowing money from me if you’re going to Florida and eating in fancy restaurants?

Yeah, I had to dip into Bank of Mom for the first time in years after my car died and the (reputable but tax shy) mechanic needed to be paid in cash and my computer released its digital ghost into the ether and its body had to be dumped on the scrap heap of abandoned electronics and suddenly my bank account had approximately 37 cents about the time rent was due. Anyway, Bank of Mom does not subsidize plane trips to the East Coast or my desire for agnolotti. So I had to stress that these are windfalls from the land of Life Switch Flipped to Awesome. Windfall #1: Friend needed someone to accompany her to Disneyworld and drink mai tais by the pool. I’ve never cleared my schedule so fast. Windfall #2: Friend moving to Seattle wanted a last culinary San Francisco bash and asked if I’d like to have dinner, price no object, and do I have any suggestions? WHY, YES. YES, I DO.

Life certainly has an ebb and a flow. One week you’re ripping out your hair in tufts over surprise bills and the next you’re being invited on trips and eating beef brisket. Must remember that beef brisket for when the switch flips again.

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4. I Really Hope I Paid PG&E
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