I love my crunchy hometown.
Back in San Francisco for Thanksgiving again, and wondering how many more of these there will be. My grandma's turning 93 this year, and I have no clue whether our yearly family reunions will continue when she's gone. I know I've always been curious to celebrate Thanksgiving with friends, or go to someone's house that is closer to NY than California is. It's something I've never known.
Coming home for Thanksgiving was the bane of my existence for a long time—I hated talking to people about my life in New York because I always seemed to be having a depressed autumn. I found the Saturday night Chinese banquet exhausting and superficial. I dreaded going home so much that I'd get completely plastered the night before and miss my flight (this has happened twice). But perhaps sooner than I'd like I'll have a choice when it comes to this bizarre holiday.
Our house is too big. We lose each other easily. We yell unnecessarily.
Our dog is short of memory and endlessly amusing. I talk to him and he seems to remember who I am. I like driving with him in the passenger seat.
The city has completely gotten rid of plastic bags in supermarkets, and every place sells eco-totes or the like. The powers that be are also looking into turning restaurants' used vegetable oil into biodiesel. All the beans at the coffee shop are fair trade. We have a philandering mayor.
Our family are foregoing our usual brined turkey and making a 10-lb standing rib roast instead. The oil spill has made Bay Area seafood unsafe to eat, but 100,000 pounds of crabs just arrived from Oregon, so maybe tomorrow we will have our usual first course of cracked Dungeness crabs.
Fung Tai made a fresh batch of tea eggs at my sister's and my request. I must get a recipe from her, but it will be a test of my Cantonese to do so.
My small independent high school just started teaching Mandarin. I'm seeing a friend from high school tonight who I haven't seen in about 5 years. I've reconnected with a few people from high school within the past two weeks, and it's been surprisingly refreshing. Maybe I'm ready to face all the things that made me want to leave San Francisco. I keep saying I want to move back to the Bay Area next year, but I don't know how much I believe it. Every time I come back to visit it feels like a trial run, though it really isn't because I'm in my parents' house on my parents' schedule.
I do love this city though. It makes me proud to be from here.
Coming home for Thanksgiving was the bane of my existence for a long time—I hated talking to people about my life in New York because I always seemed to be having a depressed autumn. I found the Saturday night Chinese banquet exhausting and superficial. I dreaded going home so much that I'd get completely plastered the night before and miss my flight (this has happened twice). But perhaps sooner than I'd like I'll have a choice when it comes to this bizarre holiday.
Our house is too big. We lose each other easily. We yell unnecessarily.
Our dog is short of memory and endlessly amusing. I talk to him and he seems to remember who I am. I like driving with him in the passenger seat.
The city has completely gotten rid of plastic bags in supermarkets, and every place sells eco-totes or the like. The powers that be are also looking into turning restaurants' used vegetable oil into biodiesel. All the beans at the coffee shop are fair trade. We have a philandering mayor.
Our family are foregoing our usual brined turkey and making a 10-lb standing rib roast instead. The oil spill has made Bay Area seafood unsafe to eat, but 100,000 pounds of crabs just arrived from Oregon, so maybe tomorrow we will have our usual first course of cracked Dungeness crabs.
Fung Tai made a fresh batch of tea eggs at my sister's and my request. I must get a recipe from her, but it will be a test of my Cantonese to do so.
My small independent high school just started teaching Mandarin. I'm seeing a friend from high school tonight who I haven't seen in about 5 years. I've reconnected with a few people from high school within the past two weeks, and it's been surprisingly refreshing. Maybe I'm ready to face all the things that made me want to leave San Francisco. I keep saying I want to move back to the Bay Area next year, but I don't know how much I believe it. Every time I come back to visit it feels like a trial run, though it really isn't because I'm in my parents' house on my parents' schedule.
I do love this city though. It makes me proud to be from here.
posted by 'nette at 9:36 PM
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