San Francisco Living: A Year in Review

Fact: I still have two boxes I have yet to unpack.

I moved into my apartment a year ago today.

It's funny that I ended up living in the city, because I never aspired to move to San Francisco.  Really, I just wanted to shorten my commute.

With all the recent reports of the extremely high cost of rent in San Francisco, I count myself lucky to be paying significantly under market price for a studio, even one in the Tenderloin.  I saw a posting for a different studio in my building on Craigslist last month, and it was listed as $400 more than I'm paying.  Good grief!  I'm also thankful that my building is rent controlled, so I only experienced a 1.9% increase in rent this year.

Technically, I live in the Tenderloin, but I really consider myself Tenderloin adjacent.  There are definitely areas a block or two away that I wouldn't want to walk alone, but the areas I frequent are safe.  I'm right next door to a hostel, so there are always folks around, which makes me feel even safer.  I haven't experienced a single incident since I moved to the city, knock on wood.

My other concern as I moved into my apartment was the size.  Best I can figure, my studio is about 300 square feet, I took measurements, and my studio is 267 square feet, which is quite small, especially since some of that space is a hallway.

Probably my least favorite thing about my apartment is my kitchen, which is tiny.  I have 10 inches of counter space, which I tripled by squeezing in a tiny IKEA cart.  I was terrified of my oven for most of the past year, because I repeatedly burned things and set off my smoke alarm.  However, I finally invested in an oven thermometer, and discovered that my oven runs 75 to 100 degrees hot, which is extreme!  So, now I have learned to set things 100 degrees below, and can bake without fear.

I don’t feel like I’ve done a very good job of taking advantage of living in San Francisco.  There are so many neighborhoods that I have yet to explore.  I should really put together a to-do list like I had for D.C., and try to check things off.

I doubt I’ll stay in San Francisco forever.  It’s extraordinarily expensive, and I miss what less urban areas have to offer in terms of greenery, safety, and convenience.  On the other hand, I do love having access to ample public transportation (as compared to the suburbs), incredibly diverse food, and a fascinating collection of passionate, young people.

Anyone have any suggestions as I begin to compile an SF to-do list?

In Which I Quote Christian Stuff at You

Chris and I have been reading some good things lately for our weekly Catholic chat via Skype.

The Problem of Pain

During the month of October, we read The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis.  I've always loved C.S. Lewis, from my childhood readings of the classic Chronicles of Narnia to my later explorations of his Christian writings such as Mere Christianity and The Screwtape Letters.  Lewis does such a wonderful job of presenting arguments with clear examples that shed light on difficult concepts.

In the first chapter, I enjoy Lewis's treatment of the question often raised--if God is good, then why doesn't he make everyone perfectly happy?  Either He isn't good, or he lacks the power to make everyone happy, or perhaps both.  Lewis makes a very elaborate argument about suffering being a necessary element of a world that also contains free will, which I will not attempt to summarize here.  But, I did want to share this quote:

Meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix them to the other words 'God can'.  It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things but nonentitites.  It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of His creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because His power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God.

Mm, logic.

I also loved this quote:

When we want to be something other than the thing God wants us to be, we must be wanting what, in fact, will not make us happy.

I was rather surprised that one of the chapters was on Animal Pain, which struck me as a bit incongruous with the flow of the book in general.  He argues that animals are sentient but lack selfhood in a way that supports immortal souls.  However, along the way, he rejects other, weaker arguments against the immortality of animals.  My favorite is this:

Nor am I greatly moved by jocular inquiries such as 'Where will you put all the mosquitoes?'--a question to be answered on its own level by pointing out that, if the worst came to the worst, a heaven for mosquitoes and a hell for men could very conveniently be combined.

Ha!  True that.

Pope Francis

Chris and I are about to start St. Bonaventure's The Life of Saint Francis of Assisi, followed by Introduction to the Devout Life by St. Francis de Sales.  However, we took a week off from our longer readings to explore the America Magazine interview with Pope Francis.  There were a number of wonderful things said during the interview, and I would encourage everyone to read it.  I particularly enjoyed his emphasis that he is a sinner, that he practices discernment in all things, that he sees holiness in patience, and that uncertainty in discernment is leaving room for the Lord.

There was one part of the interview that has been quoted repeatedly by the media, around the idea of focusing less on divisive issues such as gay marriage and abortion.  I was excited about this from the first moment I read it, but all the more so in reading it in the context of a discussion of the Church as a field hospital for the world:

We cannot insist only on issues related to abortion, gay marriage and the use of contraceptive methods. This is not possible. I have not spoken much about these things, and I was reprimanded for that. But when we speak about these issues, we have to talk about them in a context. The teaching of the church, for that matter, is clear and I am a son of the church, but it is not necessary to talk about these issues all the time. 

 The dogmatic and moral teachings of the church are not all equivalent. The church’s pastoral ministry cannot be obsessed with the transmission of a disjointed multitude of doctrines to be imposed insistently. Proclamation in a missionary style focuses on the essentials, on the necessary things: this is also what fascinates and attracts more, what makes the heart burn, as it did for the disciples at Emmaus. We have to find a new balance; otherwise even the moral edifice of the church is likely to fall like a house of cards, losing the freshness and fragrance of the Gospel. The proposal of the Gospel must be more simple, profound, radiant. It is from this proposition that the moral consequences then flow.

I love this idea that we should focus on sharing a "simple, profound, radiant" Gospel, and everything else will fall into place. I have found Pope Francis's emphasis on simplicity and the preferential option for the poor to be extremely heartening, and cannot wait to see what his papacy holds for the world.

Have you read anything inspirational lately?

Mrs. Boucher's Snickerdoodles

Alan brilliantly suggested baking cookies this weekend.  When he asked what my favorite cookies are, I immediately responded, "Snickerdoodles!"  My family has an old recipe for them that we've been using since my dad's childhood, when he got the recipe from his kind neighbor, Mrs. Boucher.  She had him start to write out the recipe in his child's handwriting, and then helped him out to write the rest of the directions.  I love that my mom still pulls out the soft, worn, ripped sheets of paper to reference the recipe.

So, when Alan and I decided that we were going to make snickerdoodles, I immediate texted my mom to ask for the recipe, because no other would do!  We were entertained that my iPhone wanted to autocorrect to "snicker doodles," which we imagined to be excessive chortling while drawing.

I love cooking and baking with Alan, because we somehow always manage to break down laughing over something silly, and the results are always tasty.  This was a particularly exciting baking experience because we got to use his fancy stand mixer--so jealous!

I was pleased with how our snickerdoodles turned out, just as good as the ones from my childhood (and, my father's childhood).  We had to experiment with the baking time a little to get the chewiness just right--too much, and they get crunchy; too little, and they are still doughy inside.  Then again, I'm a little picky about cookie consistency, tending to prefer cookies on the chewy/doughy side.

I hope you try out this recipe!  The cinnamon will make your kitchen smell decidedly autumnal.  Mrs. Boucher's recipe requires no alterations, but some clarifications of my own are included in parentheses.

Snickerdoodles for Dale from Mrs. Boucher

Mix together thoroughly...
1 C. soft shortening
1 1/2 C. sugar
2 eggs

Sift together and stir in...
2 3/4 C. sifted flour
2 tsp. cream of tartar
1 tsp. (baking) soda
1/2 tsp. salt

Chill dough (1 hour).

Roll into balls the size of small walnuts (1-2 tbsp., depending on how big a cookie you prefer).

Roll in mixture of 2 tbsp. sugar and 2 tsp. cinnamon. (Trader Joe's organic sugar is a little too coarse for this; you'd be better off with a more finely granulated sugar to get it to stick well.)

Bake 2 inches apart on an ungreased sheet.  Bake till lightly brown but still soft.

400° - 8-10 minutes - 5 dozen snickerdoodles.

Uxorious

My office recently started up a book club, which is awesome, even if that means I'm somehow in three book clubs.  (Oops.)  We're currently reading Wolf Hall, which is about Thomas Cromwell. So far, I'm not a huge fan of the writing style--historical fiction in present tense is a bit silly--but, I'll withhold further judgment until I have finished the book.

In reading the book, I learned a new word: uxorious. It means excessive fondness for one's wife. Naturally, I turned to Google to find out what the comparable word is for excessive fondness for one's husband.

First, I learned that the top autocomplete when you type "excessive" is "burping," which is amusing. WebMD is very reassuring that burping, like flatulence, is natural, if a bit uncomfortable or embarrassing at times.  However, I've read Mary Roach's Gulp, so I am privy* to the many ways in which gas can go terribly wrong.

More to the point, however, I learned that while "uxorious" is a relatively common word, the equivalent for excessive fondness for one's husband, "maritorious," is exceedingly rare. That says to me that, at least historically, our society believes a wife's love is almost never "too much," whereas a husband can love his wife too much.  That's lame. I think we should stick to a gender- and relationship-neutral version of this word--"obsequious" comes to mind--because love for one's partner, by a man or a woman, should not be immediately implicated as a sign of weakness.

My diatribe is probably unnecessary, as "uxorious" seems to have fallen out of contemporary usage, likely for the same reasons as those I have raised.  That being said, my spell checker tells me that "uxorious" is a word, but "maritorious" is not.  Stop being so gender normative, spell check!

-----
* Pun intended, of course.

Check It Out

I recently dusted off my embroidery supplies to make a delightfully nerdy little birthday present for my favorite bibliophile, Morgan:

It was fairly easy to do.  I googled "library book card pocket" for some inspiration, and determined that--aside from the lettering--this project would simply involve a lot of straight lines using the trusty back stitch.

I sketched out the design on paper to get the spacing right, and then lightly drew the design on the fabric itself.  I ended up just winging it on the letters for the most part.  I'm not a huge fan of how the "C" turned out, and would probably try to make it less angular next time.

This was my first time making something meant to stay in the embroidery hoop to be hung on the wall.  I used some fabric glue to try to glue down the fabric in back, which sort of worked.  I think next time I'd cut a bigger piece of fabric so I had more to work with in folding it down.

Spending a morning watching Star Trek: The Next Generation and embroidering reminded me how much I enjoy this craft.  It's very satisfying to make something physically tangible, especially since I spend most of my time thinking, reading, and writing on the computer.  Now, I need to finish the somewhat ambitious squirrel cross stitch tote bag I've been working on for my mom forever!

Bioshock Infinite: My Initial Reaction

Earlier this summer, Alissa was over for dinner at my place, and started telling me about an awesome new game she was playing, Bioshock Infinite.  She showed me the beginning of a walkthrough of the game on YouTube, and it seemed like a really interesting premise.  Here's a trailer for the game:



However, having no gaming console of my own, I wasn't able to even entertain the notion of playing the game.  Fast forward to last week, when one of my favorite Apple blogs, TUAW, posted news of Bioshock Infinite being released for Mac, touting it as the game of the year.  Only then did I begin to seriously consider playing the game.

You see, I haven't played a video game in quite some time.  Sure, I've dabbled on the Wii here and there at parties, but my last serious foray into gaming of any sort was probably The Sims in high school.  And, of the games I've played, most of them were Nintendo, in the Mario universe...  No blood and gore in Paper Mario, the last RPG I played from start to finish (on my family's trusty old N64, good times).

So, the idea of playing a first-person shooter was a real departure from the norm for me.  And, this one is definitely graphically violent, as I had seen from the beginning of the walkthrough.  But, the game's story was too fascinating to pass up.  As TUAW explains:

You play as Pinkerton agent Booker DeWitt, who is sent to the floating city of Columbia to find a mysterious woman named Elizabeth who has quantum powers. Though the city of Columbia floats in the sky, the game takes place in 1912. Yet many critics have noted that the themes in the game reflect the political, religious, plutocratic and populist divides in America running up to the 2012 elections.

See?  Fascinating.  When was the last time you heard about a video game that employs history and politics in this way?

Still not 100% convinced I should spend $40 on something that was so far afield from how I typically spend my free time, I asked for some feedback from friends on Facebook.  The response was overwhelming--a ton of very passionate comments that I simply must play this game!  Emboldened by the feedback, and always looking for a good excuse to strengthen my nerd cred, I decided to give it a whirl.

Tonight was my third night playing the game, and it is awesome.  I'm playing on easy mode, because I have no idea how to play a FPS, but the game is kindly teaching me what I need to know.  The first two nights, I played using my mouse and keyboard, but I was finding it a bit difficult to handle.  So, I bought myself a used Xbox 360 wired gamepad, downloaded a driver, and was much happier with the gameplay this evening.  If you go this route, I recommend playing with the controller from the beginning, because it was complicated to get used to new buttons and sensitivities for everything after figuring out the gameplay with mouse and keyboard.  Seriously, I had to draw myself a cheat sheet:

I'm slowly but surely getting better at playing the game.  At first, it was just a matter of exploring the city and collecting things, but then the game forces you to make a choice, and that choice had consequences.  Weapons and enemies have been acquired, along with vigors (magic-like abilities), and goals.  I get really tense whenever I enter a room, because I'm anxious about what I might face on the other side, but I'm starting to realize that the repercussions for dying aren't all that dire in easy mode (you lose a bit of money, and your enemies regain some health).  Pragmatic planner that I am, there's something oddly freeing about diving in headlong into a situation over which I have little control, and just going for it.

I haven't met Elizabeth yet, whom I understand to be critical to the game, so I'm sure I'll have more thoughts on the game once I reach that point.  But for now, a few hours into the game, I can at least say that I'm really glad I purchased it, and can definitely see what all the fuss is about.

Noted

The Monday before last, on my way out the door, I grabbed a box of granola bars I'd been meaning to take to work.  I quickly shoved the box in my bag and hurried out the door to face the large number of phone calls I had stacked up for the day.  When I got to work, I pulled the box out of my bag, and discovered this:

 Unbeknownst to me, Alan had left an adorable, punny note on my granola bars because I had mentioned that I was bringing them to work!  Brimming with happiness, I texted Alan to thank him, and this was his response:

And that, dear friends, is how I discovered that my apartment was chock full of these little notes.

Resisting the strong urge to run home and tear my apartment apart searching for them, I instead feverishly brainstormed increasingly improbable potential hiding places.  The kitchen cupboards?  The cookie jar?  Inside a book?  Under the rug?  On Alibi?

By the time I got home, I had remembered that my K-cups had seemed slightly askew when I brewed some coffee that morning.  At the time, I had chalked it up to Alibi playing with them, as she sometimes does, but by then I knew better.  Sure enough, when I pushed the K-cups aside:

Invigorated by my discovery, I conducted a search of my apartment, but couldn't find any more!  Alan was diabolical, and the thought of undiscovered notes was driving me insane.  Part of the issue was that Alan refused (and continues to refuse) to tell me exactly how many notes are hidden, although he has promised to tell me when they've all been found.

By the end of last week, I had relaxed my search, and resigned myself to having to simply happen upon them naturally.  Thursday evening, I was preparing Alibi for a weekend alone (Alan and I went to Bass Lake with some friends).  Imagine my delight as I discovered not one, but two notes, attached to my ice pack to keep Alibi's wet food fresh, and the kitty litter box:

The ice pack was leaning in a way that I couldn't see the note, and I had two kitty litter boxes stacked on top of each other, such that I simply hadn't been looking at the bottom box when cleaning the litter box.  I thought, surely I have now found them all, and texted Alan to confirm, but his response made it clear that he wasn't kidding around:

Only [redacted] more to find!

Seriously, who redacts text messages?!  I spent a relaxing weekend reading books and doing crossword puzzles on the beach, but in the back of my mind, I was still trying to brainstorm more note locations.

Yesterday, I got home from work a little early, so I decided to clean my apartment.  I reached for a paper towel (which, apparently, I use quite sparingly), and discovered this:

My wet hands got the note a bit soggy.  Then, as I was taking the bag out of my little trash can, I found this waiting for me at the bottom:

I still have no idea how many sticky notes remain hidden in my apartment, but I'm growing more comfortable with the idea that I'll discover them in due course.  They are a wonderful little surprise that really brighten my day and make me feel loved.  Now, I just have to think up a good way to retaliate reciprocate.

-----

UPDATE:

Apparently, I also never use all four of my bowls!  I just spotted this (turned the other way in the cupboard) while working from home and making myself some lunch:

Alan informs me that this is the final sticky note that was hidden.  I'm definitely bowled over.