Rain and Fire
Realizing while driving to work today through really sodden streets downtown, that it’s not El Nino, no, it’s Global Warming! The rain is getting me down. At least I’m not experiencing the high winds and buckets of rain on the Bay Bridge like I was, back in March. The constant drizzle is another form of torture, though.
On the theme of acts from god, I harken back to this photo of my old apartment in the Mission. Four months after moving from the Mish to North Beach, it goes up in an inferno. I don’t know the cause yet, but I’m pretty sure it was a combination of these lovely facets of urban living:
– an upstairs neighbor who had candles burning constantly
– the persistent smell of gas in the walls
– a pilot light that was never lit, but always emitting the necessary gas for a pilot light
– a slum landlord
Yee-ha! I can’t believe I lived there for five years. What was I thinking? It had a hole in the floor, windows that wouldn’t close, and heroin/crack neighbors (and they were also those junk-people, who can never throw anything away). There were good things too, being 1 block from Church and Market, one of the best restaurant districts for inexpensive but yummy dining (Red Jade, Warakabune, Chow) and also expensive dining (2223, Mecca). Close to fun clubs where my friends worked, so I could dance and get trashed and stumble home.
Check out the site in progress, before we dedicate a real URL to it: Anna’s Chinese Movie.