The cafe story

After climbing down the Moraga steps, I made my way over to Golden Bear to take advantage of its speedy wifi. How speedy is this wifi? It's gamer-approved. This one kid comes in several evenings a week, sets up his gaming laptop, and proceeds to play Starcraft (or WOW/League of Legends.. I can't tell) while yelling loudly in Chinese at his friends on Skype.

I set up my own laptop, turned on a podcast, and got to work with my piping hot cup of chamomile tea. Now, when I had first entered the cafe, I made eye contact with an old lady who was sitting at a table with a pile of papers in front of her. I don't remember smiling in acknowledgement. I just looked straight past at the menu and debated getting a late-night croissant. But, I guess in that fleeting interaction, I had given off the impression that I was extremely approachable, with plenty of free time. Perhaps it was my choice of chamomile tea. People with deadlines don't drink chamomile tea. They drink hard, black coffee.

Not even five minutes had passed when I felt a presence at my side. I slowly look over and sure enough, it's the old lady. She was standing there, one hand on her hip, and a stack of papers in the other. She was looking at me with her eyebrows furrowed, with a "what's taking so long" attitude. Thoroughly confused and a bit worried with what she wanted from me, I took out my earbuds and smiled, "Oh, hello..... can I help you with something?" (terrible move on my part)

"Do you speak English?"
"... Yes...."
"Fluent? Were you born here?"
"Well.. I wasn't born here, but I'm fluent... I think." (maybe if I sound unsure, she'll leave me alone)
"Okay, then you can help me with my paper?"

[This question is interestingly phrased. It's not really asking for assistance in the way that "Can you help me...?" does. It's a way of confirming something that has been promised/is physically possible.
For example: 'You promised me you would clean the bathroom in five minutes? Okay, then you can do it now?' or 'You have two functioning legs? Okay, then you can walk across the room?']

"I can??? Um... What paper?"
(Shoves pile of papers into my lap) "I have to read this story for my class and write 200 words."

[At this point, I started looking around, hoping that the cafe owner would come whisk away the old lady apologetically, "Oh, don't mind my senile mother. She thinks she is still in school. Go back to cramming for your very important midterm." But nope. The cafe owner was too busy peeking over the shoulder of the Starcraft kid, entranced by the action on the screen.]

"... Oh so you want me to help you? I don't think I know this story."
"It's okay. Read it. It's about a man and a poor boy that he abuses .. blah blah blah." (Her English is a bit broken, so I'm having trouble understanding her. I am able to gather that a man is abusive to a boy that is not his son, the boy becomes fed up with the abuse, and the boy kills the man.)

In my head, I was imagining myself handing the papers back to her and saying, "I'm sorry Ma'am. I really have no time for this, because I have a huge test in two days!" In reality, I sighed and tried to skim through the poorly printed 4-page story and then her even-harder-to-read penmanship.

I'm not trying to slyly brag about how nice I am here. Because we all know I'm not very nice. My inability to say no in this situation is the result of my upbringing that has instilled in me an unquestioning submission to my elders, no matter how unreasonable they may be. If grandma wants you to read her papers, you read her papers.

I bet you're thinking, "Awwww... the old lady is just trying to improve her English. Can't you just spare a few minutes and commend her effort to keep her mind sharp as she ages?" Yeah yeah yeah. I tried that. But after repeatedly having ridiculous encounters with COMPLETE strangers, one starts to lose patience.

On a more serious note, I especially struggle with how I should act with individuals who are clearly mentally ill. I've had a man follow me around a bus stop while calling out -- almost rhythmically -- what sounded like "ba-TA-ni." Literally AROUND the bus stop. I didn't want to be the asshole that jumped away from the man who is obviously not well. So I slowly sidled over, inch by inch. I gradually made my way around the entire bench, and the man was still right next to me, "ba-TA-ni." The scariest parts were when he would pause. My quick-to-panic mind starts ringing all the alarms, 'Why did he pause? What does ba-TA-ni MEAN?? WHAT IS HE TRYING TO TELL ME?' Just when you start hoping that he will stop and leave you alone, it starts again, "ba-TA-ni."

And then there was the man (who I thought was just drunk) that began recommending things for me to do in SF. It began with the July 4th fireworks over Pier 39 that I could not miss. But by the time he got to the annual jazz festival, I noticed that he was grabbing at his genitals. Maybe he was just shamelessly readjusting himself, but I was extremely uncomfortable and started scanning the street for people who would serve as witnesses if anything were to happen.

Sorry. That took a dark turn fast, huh.
I'm writing this at midnight after a long, gloomy day.
I bet if I read over this entry another day, I will decide to delete it on account of its being a rambling description of my paranoia.

Also, don't worry.
I am looking into buying pepper spray off of Amazon Prime, and I've begun practicing my RBF.
If you walk by me on the street these days, you probably won't even recognize me cuz I look so damn tough.

JUST made it

A few nights ago, I am walking across Geary and the crosswalk is a bit crowded, so I'm forced to walk on the left edge next to all the cars. I guess the kid behind me finds my pace too slow, for he tries to step around me, into oncoming traffic. At the same time, a car comes to a late stop. Not one of those tire-screeching stops, but the driver definitely responded a couple seconds late (probably because he was peeking at his phone or something). The point is, it was kinda scary.

Now, my reflex kicks in and I step back to get away from the approaching car. Yet, instead of seeing a safe distance being created between me and the careless driver, I feel a nudge -- more like a hard shove -- and myself lunging forward.

THE KID USED ME AS A HUMAN SHIELD.

Yes, I'm alive and nothing bad happened, but REALLY NOW?
I hope he is ashamed of his cowardly instincts. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Today's adventure began a bit late. I was already en route to the Moraga steps when I checked my phone. 5pm. 18 minutes before the sun set in SF, according to Google. I doubted that I would make it in time, especially after getting off a stop late and seeing that a big ass hill stood between me and the steps. For a split second, I considered just googling an image of the the damn steps and crediting the source for my blog post.

But I made it you guys, JUST in time. There was just enough light for the Camera+ filter to do its magic.

And then I climbed it. 

It wasn't as bad as the Thousand Steps beach in Laguna. 

A lot less cursing between heaving breaths and much fewer breaks required.

I can't decide. Either I am a diva and over-dramatize all my encounters with people in this city OR this city is truly full of ... interesting... people, who for some reason seem to find me super approachable.

For instance, I went to a cafe to study afterwards and .... I'm tired. I stayed up til 3am finishing Gone Girl, which left me feeling super disturbed. I also have to bake croissants and cinnamon rolls (with the help of Pillsbury doughboy) at 5am tomorrow for a bake sale. I'll tell you the cafe story next time. I've been keeping track of all the ridiculous interactions I've had with fellow muni riders and other "interesting" people in my journal. The ones that haven't already been used as a Facebook status will be shared in a future blog post as well.

The weak ass cliffhanger wasn't intentional. My brain is really just pooped.

Who wants to come visit and see this face in person?

Feeling kinda homesick. =/

Naps. I appreciate naps.

Opening the front door at 7am and seeing my own breath as I mutter, "Why. F'ing. Cold," does not instill any desire in me to make my 30 minute trek to school. But I'm pretty sure that they will kick me out if I don't show up for the 4-hour exam, so I push on.

There was no adventure planned for today, for school had already called dibs on most of the day with tests and meetings, leaving only the shitty chunks like 1-2pm and 4-5pm. So when I walked out of my test too early (I'm pretty sure I "sleep-took" the test -- it's like sleepwalking, but instead of walking, you take a 245-question-computer-based exam), I was forced to be spontaneous. And for me, spontaneity usually means I "spontaneously" decide to take naps. Lots of naps. 

Now, there are a few nooks in which I like to nap around school. 1) The brown leather couches in the cozy study room on the 3rd floor of the library. 2) The brown leather couches in the sunlit lobby of the library 3rd floor. 3) The brown leather couch in the dimly lit corner of the nursing building 3rd floor. Those are some damn fine couches that UCSF has invested in. 

However, my level of exhaustion required more comfort than what those couches could offer. I am okay with curling up like an armadillo for a quick 15 to 30 minute snooze, but I just sleep-took a test. I needed to catch some serious Z's. Thus I headed back home. 

I took the long route back, hitting up Sun Stream Coffee for an acai bowl and an esfiha de frango (description below)...

(You know I had fun with this menu. "I would like an esfEEEha dey frahngoooo, please.") 

...watched some Youtube gurus talk about their 2014 favorites...

 

...and of course, slept like a baby. (no picture available) 

Ideally, my day would have ended here. How nice that would have been! But nope. I had to go back to school for a case study, in which I got to play the role of the super cool pharmacist who contributes with my knowledge of over-the-counter constipation medication. (Glycerin suppositories. They're not pretty, but they get the job done.) 

Next week, maybe I can check out one of these places! 

http://www.thrillist.com/entertainment/san-francisco/sf-secrets-you-didn-t-know-existed

Or maybe I'll take you on my own tour titled "UCSF napping nooks you didn't know existed," in which I rate each location based on comfort, lighting, seclusion, and distance from class. 

"Git in ma bellayyyyy."

Here we go!

Getting up in the morning is gonna take some getting used to. Waking up was fine, but actually getting myself to push off my comforter was painful. I spent an hour in bed, catching up on Instagram and beating the daily challenge on Tsum Tsum, before I could will myself to begin the day.

While walking up Parnassus, I decided what my first Monday adventure would be: crossing the Golden Gate Bridge by foot. I couldn't quite remember who had recommended this to me -- Dyang? Kbui? Jon? -- but it sounded like a great way to kick off my "Let's spend my free Mondays doing more than groceries!" project.

My research on the 38 to and from Trader Joe's informed me that walking the entire bridge would take about one hour (two hours round trip). Visitors should plan carefully, since the bridge also closes to pedestrians at 5:30pm. The same google search also yielded reviews written by both people who loved the experience and those who swore never to repeat it again (after realizing they had always had a fear of heights mid-bridge). The latter accounts didn't dissuade me, despite my own fear of heights, for I had already told 10 people of my grand plans by this time -- and promised that I would be writing a blog post about my experience (with pictures!).

Not being the most thorough of planners, I of course ran into a couple of hiccups.

First hitch. By the time I arrived back home and squeezed into as many layers as I could manage, it was already 2:30pm. Do I want to cut it close and walk the entire bridge? I decided, no. I would just walk halfway and come back, leaving the rest for another day. Brilliant compromise, Jasmine. Now I had plenty of time to quickly whip up my first meal of the day, a salmon bagel (amidst all the exciting planning, I had forgotten to eat...). Isn't it so pretty?

Flub number two. I'm sitting at the bus stop on Park Presidio with 10 minutes until the 28 arrives. I confidently open my book and start reading when I suddenly feel the need to go over the contents of my backpack. Cell phone, clipper card, school ID, half of salmon bagel wrapped in tinfoil, water... damn it, I forgot my wallet. With only 7 minutes left, there is no time to run back home. The annoyance starts to creep in, but instead of taking this as a bad omen as I usually do, I chose to brush it off. 'Don't need it. I've got my clipper card to take me back home. Plus, if someone decides to rob me, I can honestly tell them I've got nothing! I guess they would still profit from taking my new phone...'

Fast forward. The Golden Gate Bridge! The sidewalk is actually quite narrow to be shared by both cyclists and pedestrians. Thank goodness I didn't try this on a weekend. Trying to soak up the view and dodging bicycles without running into amateur photographers was hard enough on a Monday. (It took all my self-control to resist photobombing random tourist photos. The guy walking in front of me who was capturing a video of his adventure with a selfie stick was practically begging me to join in.) I can't really judge, though. I was Snapping my way across the bridge with the best of 'em.

Once I reached a safe spot that was relatively less windy, I did it all. Selfies, Snaps, videos, and even a pano. (Keeping that arrow on the line is REALLY hard.)

I even took several pictures for a nice tourist who was cycling across the bridge by himself. Our interaction began with his shoving the camera in my face while smiling and asking, "Would you?" I tend to opt out of taking pictures for tourists, usually handing it over to a friend who has steadier hands. (I think it's because I feel overwhelmed with the self-induced pressure to capture the perfect picture: one that will make it into these people's photo journals/blogs/Facebooks/Instagrams. If I think logically though, they can -- and probably do -- ask someone else if mine turns out hideous, but I feel anxious nonetheless.)

My first Monday of doing-more-than-groceries was a success! Next Monday, I will be taking a four-hour PCOA exam at school, so I can only squeeze in a trip to Tartine at best. However, my adventures will pick up again the following week. I need to take advantage of my free Mondays while I have them until March.

Until next NEXT week~