Last Day in San Francisco

Last night I went to the theater with James. We saw a witty dramatization of Edith Warton’s “The House of Mirth.” The theater was beautiful in a baroque sort of way. We had a bird’s eye view of the stage…hopefully the picture that I took will come out in spite of the low lighting. The ending of the play was pretty tragic as the heroine (Lilly) dies (some-what romantically) from tuberculosis. She dies poor, unmarried, and unpopular three conditions that she fights against for the three hours of the play. Had she chosen to follow the truth in her heart from the beginning and concern herself less with what people thought of her she would have been happier. Even though the play took place turn of the century in NY, I can still relate to some things. When I moved out on my own from my parent’s house it was a big scandal. Not so much because I was on my own but because I moved in with a man and I didn’t marry him. Everyone talked about it; the family friends, the neighbors–in short, everyone disapproved of my decision. Truth is everyone talks. In our culture there is still that sense of virginity being a woman’s most prized posession. I remember the guilt associated with having sex for the first time. I was mortified. My father’s words (and I’ll never forget them) were, “Once you have sex you’re like a used garment in a closet and no one will want to wear you.” So there I was, 16 years old, a used garment, stuck in a relationship with a horrible guy. Insecure. Having unsurmountable difficulties at home. No friends. What was I to do? Needless to say, I never want to be 16 again. Those days are over. I’m very different now. Stronger, confident, successful. The road is long though…lots of learning ahead of me, lots of lessons still waiting to ambush me when I’m not expecting it. Tonight feels good…maybe it’s a Thursday night thing.

So far I love the city. I’ve actually had a chance to walk around. I walked down to the financial district and into Chinatown. You gotta love those skinned roasted ducks in the windows. Tonight I’m headed to the Museum of Modern Art with a friend, that sounds like it’s going to be rewarding. The more time I spend here the more I like it. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll move to earthquake central. It’s so beautiful here, very easy to forget that the ground shakes. Everyone knows that it does but they don’t care, aren’t conscious of it, like it’s something in the back of their mind. Living in Costa Rica and experiencing the wrath of a large earthquake was something I’ll never forget. It all started with the clinking of glasses and by the time I knew it the walls were cracking, the road looked like a snake as it rose and fell in the chaos of the moment. Crazy. Time stands still when the ground shakes. By the time it’s over it is hard to believe that only a few seconds have passed. Everything looks like a wasteland. The world that you knew lies there, in shambles, forever changed. That was back in 1983.

My plane leaves tomorrow at 6:30AM for Denver. I’ve had the chance to think about a lot of things. I think this weekend will be considerably different than past weekends. I’m finally coming around full circle, so soon it will be time for a new beginning. I’m ok with being alone, it doesn’t bother me half as much as I thought it would. I would rather be alone than surrounded by people who can hurt and confuse me. I’m happy right now. Another good Thursday. Definitely.