February 2010
Definitions:
Sport Climbing- Ascending routes of extreme gymnastic difficulty protected by closely spaced bolts.
Belay- Safety technique in which a stationary climber provides protection, by means of ropes, anchors and braking devices, to an ascending partner.
Introduction
I have a fear of falling. That's right, falling. That is not exactly the best fear to have in an adventure sport.
Facts
-My climbing partner and I have a 100 pound weight difference.
-I must free climb 40 plus feet, while dragging 4 pounds of rope.
-In order to pass the Lead Climbing test you must take a 15-20 foot fall.
-When gym climbing, the ropes are wrapped around a drum at the top of the route to provide extra friction. Basically the belayer feels 1/3 of the climbers weight.
-When lead climbing the only friction is the quick draws and ATC. The belayer feels 100 percent of the weight of climber.
Story
My climbing partner is an amazing climber, for months now he has wanted to start free/lead/sport climbing. The catch to being a bad ass lead climber, you must be a strong/confident climber. I'm not very confident in my climbing and have a fear of falling, so lead climbing wasn't something I was too excited about. However, after a trip to Yosemite I was definitely convinced and excited to begin training for this feat.
We made a climbing New Year's Resolution: pass our lead climbing test by February 28th. January came and passed, no lead climbing class. February came... still no lead climbing class. I think you are picking up on how much I was not looking forward to this class. Still, a resolution is a resolution and in order to finish by our deadline we needed to take the class, like yesterday. So on Friday evening I decided to inquire about lead classes. After a short conversation, I walked away with an appointment for 8:30am Saturday the next morning. Excited about our private lead class, my climbing partner started a conversation with our instructor... just as I walk up he asks, "What is your weight difference." I said, "100 pounds." Before I could think to myself, "I wonder why?" Our instructors face lights up, and says super enthusiastically, "You're gonna go flying!"
As you might imagine, I didn't sleep Friday night. The realization that I was going to have to take a 15-20 ft. fall, go "flying up into the air", be in control of someones life, and drag 4 pounds of rope up a wall was overwhelming.
We arrived for our class and learned how to tie the Yosemite knot, practiced clipping into quick draws, learned how to spot climbers to the first clip, how to shuffle the rope as a belayer, how to stop the rope as a belayer, and finally learned rope management and feet placement as a climber. In case you didn't know, you aren't allowed to practice true lead climbing in the gym until you have passed the test. So, if you never take the class or practice out doors, your first test could potentially be your first time ever actually taking a true fall and your first time being on the receiving end of a 20 plus foot fall.
As my climbing partner was ascending his first route, our instructor says, "You guys are my little experiment. I have never seen a weight difference quite as large as yours." I am thinking, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Out of nowhere my climbing partner is ready to take his first fall, and BOOM my ass shot in the air, my ATC slamming into the first quick draw. The first quick draw is 15 feet up the wall, hanging about 8-12 inches from the wall. Remember fifteen feet is about 5 feet taller than the average bedroom ceiling. Awesome right?!
Now it is my turn to lead, let me tell you dragging four pounds of rope up a wall, let alone a wall that is not completely vertical is hard. Four pounds is about the weight of 1 gallon of milk. Would you want to drag a rope up a fifty foot wall, while stopping every five feet to clip the rope to wall, so that if you fall you won't die? Probably not, but I am crazy and this is what I do for fun! Anyways, I reached the top of the route and it was my turn to take my first fall... what was I going to do? Chicken out and say no no no I cannot do this, and climb down to the next clip?! Nope, I harnessed my fear and fell! It wasn't that bad! Totally ready to come down to the ground, they told me to climb to the top again and re fall!! After my second fall, I realized that falling isn't too scary... but that flying up into the air.. that is definitely scary!
Point of this story, I am a bad ass and there ain't nuttin you can do about it!
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
"Um.. Do you know that guy?"
January 2010
Prologue
The Tenderloin-- Nestled between successful commercial areas and high priced residential areas, parts of the Tenderloin have historically resisted gentrification, maintaining a seedy character and reputation for crime.[9] Squalid conditions, homelessness, crime, illegal drug trade, prostitution, liquor stores, and strip clubs give the neighborhood a seedy reputation. --Wikipedia
So what brings me to the tenderloin? The FOOD!
Okay, so I must digress and tell you a little bit about the fabulousness of Saigon Sandwiches. I am not sure how many of you are familiar with Vietnamese Sandwiches, but basically they consist of a bread-- usually a french roll, Dressing-- usually mayo, meat-- usually chicken, pork, tofu, or pate (pureed liver w/seasoning and veggies-- usually pickled carrots, onions, cilantro and jalapenos and occasionally some vegetables I am not familiar with. I think that when most people hear Vietnamese Sandwiches they think of Lee's. This is what I think of when I think of Lee's... stale french rolls that practically gashes the roof of my mouth, and food that feels like it was made at Burger King. You are lucky if you get meet and veggies in one bite, and they always seem to put all the mayo in the space of ONE bite... kind of gross. For those reasons, I am usually turned off to Vietnamese Sandwiches...
A few months ago I was convinced there was a place in the Tenderloin that had the MOST. AMAZING. VIETNAMESE. SANDWICHES. EVER. On a random day I stumbled across this Saigon Sandwich place and was shocked to see a line that reached to the end of the block. As I was passing the restaurant, I came across a couple in disagreement... the girlfriend was insisting on eating at Saigon Sandwiches while her boyfriend was insisting on eating at Lee's due to the lengthy wait. I am not exaggerating the scale of this girls temper tantrum. Mid sidewalk she starts yelling at her boyfriend, and going into a lengthy description of why she must eat at S.S. and not walk the two blocks to Lee's. I knew right then and there I had to try these sandwiches.
Story
I was headed threw the "loin" to Saigon Sandwiches for some delish cheap lunch. When I am downtown, I walk with purpose and as if I have a place to be... It seems to me that when you walk with purpose the crazies feel the "do not mess with" aura. However, on this particular day it didn't matter how much purpose to threw into my step, my aura was reading "TARGET". I was wearing brown tights, a bright flowing bohemian skirt, a pale yellow long sleeved shirt, and a green scarf... I was a walking target. I feel like I am a perceptive person, and I try to pay attention to the details... somehow my perception failed me on this particular day. I remember walking down Van Ness, turning onto Turk, Crossing Polk, and finally crossing Larkin... I even remember turning around when I got to the corner of Larkin and Turk.
I arrived at my destination excited that there was no line and only three people inside, "Yes!" I had missed the lunch hour rush! I walked into the store to see a totally normal couple looking at me like I was crazy, I grab my purse to pull out my wallet when all of a sudden I felt what seemed to be a hand grab the top of my head and slide down the crown my head to my pony tail and then "Woosh" my head flew back. That's right people, someone had pulled my hair! So, I did what any normal person would do, think "What the fuck?!" I turned around to a tall, scraggly, bearded, ashy faced, crazy man smiling and rapidly waving his hand at me. I yelled at him, "What the..?!" I think my raised voice must have startled him because he ran out the door.
I dismissed this weird incident thinking, "Welcome to San Francisco, and HOLY SHIT that was weird!" I ordered my Sandwich, and realized that the "normal couple" were still looking at me like I was crazy. I made eye contact with them allowing them speak to me when they asked, "Um.. Do you know that guy?" I wanted to yell at them, "REALLY?! Does it look like I hang out with homeless people, let alone homeless people who would pull my hair?" Instead, I laughed and said, "Nope. No idea who he is."
Prologue
The Tenderloin-- Nestled between successful commercial areas and high priced residential areas, parts of the Tenderloin have historically resisted gentrification, maintaining a seedy character and reputation for crime.[9] Squalid conditions, homelessness, crime, illegal drug trade, prostitution, liquor stores, and strip clubs give the neighborhood a seedy reputation. --Wikipedia
So what brings me to the tenderloin? The FOOD!
Okay, so I must digress and tell you a little bit about the fabulousness of Saigon Sandwiches. I am not sure how many of you are familiar with Vietnamese Sandwiches, but basically they consist of a bread-- usually a french roll, Dressing-- usually mayo, meat-- usually chicken, pork, tofu, or pate (pureed liver w/seasoning and veggies-- usually pickled carrots, onions, cilantro and jalapenos and occasionally some vegetables I am not familiar with. I think that when most people hear Vietnamese Sandwiches they think of Lee's. This is what I think of when I think of Lee's... stale french rolls that practically gashes the roof of my mouth, and food that feels like it was made at Burger King. You are lucky if you get meet and veggies in one bite, and they always seem to put all the mayo in the space of ONE bite... kind of gross. For those reasons, I am usually turned off to Vietnamese Sandwiches...
A few months ago I was convinced there was a place in the Tenderloin that had the MOST. AMAZING. VIETNAMESE. SANDWICHES. EVER. On a random day I stumbled across this Saigon Sandwich place and was shocked to see a line that reached to the end of the block. As I was passing the restaurant, I came across a couple in disagreement... the girlfriend was insisting on eating at Saigon Sandwiches while her boyfriend was insisting on eating at Lee's due to the lengthy wait. I am not exaggerating the scale of this girls temper tantrum. Mid sidewalk she starts yelling at her boyfriend, and going into a lengthy description of why she must eat at S.S. and not walk the two blocks to Lee's. I knew right then and there I had to try these sandwiches.
Story
I was headed threw the "loin" to Saigon Sandwiches for some delish cheap lunch. When I am downtown, I walk with purpose and as if I have a place to be... It seems to me that when you walk with purpose the crazies feel the "do not mess with" aura. However, on this particular day it didn't matter how much purpose to threw into my step, my aura was reading "TARGET". I was wearing brown tights, a bright flowing bohemian skirt, a pale yellow long sleeved shirt, and a green scarf... I was a walking target. I feel like I am a perceptive person, and I try to pay attention to the details... somehow my perception failed me on this particular day. I remember walking down Van Ness, turning onto Turk, Crossing Polk, and finally crossing Larkin... I even remember turning around when I got to the corner of Larkin and Turk.
I arrived at my destination excited that there was no line and only three people inside, "Yes!" I had missed the lunch hour rush! I walked into the store to see a totally normal couple looking at me like I was crazy, I grab my purse to pull out my wallet when all of a sudden I felt what seemed to be a hand grab the top of my head and slide down the crown my head to my pony tail and then "Woosh" my head flew back. That's right people, someone had pulled my hair! So, I did what any normal person would do, think "What the fuck?!" I turned around to a tall, scraggly, bearded, ashy faced, crazy man smiling and rapidly waving his hand at me. I yelled at him, "What the..?!" I think my raised voice must have startled him because he ran out the door.
I dismissed this weird incident thinking, "Welcome to San Francisco, and HOLY SHIT that was weird!" I ordered my Sandwich, and realized that the "normal couple" were still looking at me like I was crazy. I made eye contact with them allowing them speak to me when they asked, "Um.. Do you know that guy?" I wanted to yell at them, "REALLY?! Does it look like I hang out with homeless people, let alone homeless people who would pull my hair?" Instead, I laughed and said, "Nope. No idea who he is."
Monday, February 1, 2010
"Okay, time for you to go."
December 2009
Prologue
I kind of scored the jackpot when finding my apartment here in San Francisco. How? Well, 1. I have a washer and dryer IN my unit, and 2. The L train stops directly in front of my apartment. You can't really appreciate how amazing these two things are until you have to chase after a bus or lug your laundry 4 city blocks to a laundromat.
Story
Around 10:30am I decided to head downtown to do a little Christmas shopping. For those of you who are not familiar with the MUNI trains, they are trains that shuttle people, on tracks, above and below ground.
For those of those of you who are reading this entry pre the uploaded image, bear with me. For those of you who are reading it post the picture, please refer to the image below.
So like I said, I hopped on the L train and headed downtown. I tend to like to sit in very specific parts of the trains, specifically the the seats at the back of the coach which face each other and the seats that have what appears to be tires under the seats, these big bumps make for good foot rests(the trains obviously don't have tires but that is what it looks like from the passenger perspective). On this particular day I was sitting at the rear of the second car, in the seats facing each other. To be very specific I was sitting "steps going down" side in the middle seat. On my left, sitting, was a middle aged women and standing directly in front of her was her white haired husband looking like your typical high school gym teacher. On my left, sitting, was what I am assuming was an early thirties awkward Chinese man.
This MUNI ride started out not unlike most MUNI rides. I sat there with my "muni face" staring out into oblivion trying to ignore the fact that I was sitting shoulder to shoulder with someone I didn't know, while trying to avoid an awkward surface level conversation. BUT, filled with the holiday cheer, and overhearing the couple next to me talking I decided to join their conversation. This is where it all begins.
Sitting on the train chatting away, we passed West Portal Station and then arrived at Forest Hill. It's a pretty rare sight to see homeless people in the Sunset- Twin Peaks area but it does happen. So when a fairly large black homeless woman entered the train at Forest Hill it caught my attention, after a quick glance and sniff I continued on with my conversation. Next we arrive at Castro Station, the train at this point is full and the homeless woman is standing in front of the rear entrance "steps going down side." An elderly man, I am guessing in his late seventies early eighties, attempts to enter the train using the entrance being blocked by the homeless woman... he is unsuccessful. The man yells at the women to move out of the way, she doesn't budge. Getting more and more irritated, he basically shoved her aside and gets on the train. This infuriated the women because she was shoved, but also because now everyone in the train was staring at her.
Apparently being the center of attention was not her thing, but that definitely didn't stop her from yelling at the poor elderly man who just wanted to get on the train! Being the sweet girl that I am, I offered the elderly man my seat. He refused. By now the woman is pretty angry and now talking about her race and how she is struggling for shelter and food, it was kind of sad. The elderly man still thinking her ranting is directed at him yells at her, "I ain't said nothing about your color!" The Chinese man gives up his seat to the elderly man, meanwhile the elderly man is telling her to shut up, and the Chinese man interjects and says, "just ignore her... she is crazy! just stop talking." This is where it gets whack. The woman, freaks out and claims she isn't crazy, and says she isn't yelling at the elderly man. She points at me, and says its, "her!" From what I could make from her ranting... She was upset that I didn't offer her my seat, instead I offered the elderly man my seat.
Let me re- cap this scene. It goes in this order: homeless woman in door way, tiny divider dividing the elderly man sitting directly in front of the homeless woman, me, and the nice couple I was chatting with. The rest of the train is silent, trying to have on their MUNI faces... meanwhile being 100% attentive to the altercation happening. We have me, trying to not be involved and chatting with the couple next to me and an elderly man and homeless woman arguing. Then, she points and yells "it's her" to me. I am so confused. Next thing I know spit is sliding down my cheek.
Yes. That is right, I had just been spit on. I sat there shocked. How many people get spit on? Shortly after we arrived at Van Ness Station and a fellow MUNI rider recognized the importance of this woman getting off the train. Two BIG guys well over 6 feet grabbed her by the arm and just tossed her out the door onto the platform. Just like that they tossed her out the door like a bag of garbage and said, "time for you to go." Immediately after the doors shut, and we were off. Everyone went back to not paying no attention to anything, while I sat there with the smell of nasty spit stained of my cheek.
Prologue
I kind of scored the jackpot when finding my apartment here in San Francisco. How? Well, 1. I have a washer and dryer IN my unit, and 2. The L train stops directly in front of my apartment. You can't really appreciate how amazing these two things are until you have to chase after a bus or lug your laundry 4 city blocks to a laundromat.
Story
Around 10:30am I decided to head downtown to do a little Christmas shopping. For those of you who are not familiar with the MUNI trains, they are trains that shuttle people, on tracks, above and below ground.
For those of those of you who are reading this entry pre the uploaded image, bear with me. For those of you who are reading it post the picture, please refer to the image below.
So like I said, I hopped on the L train and headed downtown. I tend to like to sit in very specific parts of the trains, specifically the the seats at the back of the coach which face each other and the seats that have what appears to be tires under the seats, these big bumps make for good foot rests(the trains obviously don't have tires but that is what it looks like from the passenger perspective). On this particular day I was sitting at the rear of the second car, in the seats facing each other. To be very specific I was sitting "steps going down" side in the middle seat. On my left, sitting, was a middle aged women and standing directly in front of her was her white haired husband looking like your typical high school gym teacher. On my left, sitting, was what I am assuming was an early thirties awkward Chinese man.
This MUNI ride started out not unlike most MUNI rides. I sat there with my "muni face" staring out into oblivion trying to ignore the fact that I was sitting shoulder to shoulder with someone I didn't know, while trying to avoid an awkward surface level conversation. BUT, filled with the holiday cheer, and overhearing the couple next to me talking I decided to join their conversation. This is where it all begins.
Sitting on the train chatting away, we passed West Portal Station and then arrived at Forest Hill. It's a pretty rare sight to see homeless people in the Sunset- Twin Peaks area but it does happen. So when a fairly large black homeless woman entered the train at Forest Hill it caught my attention, after a quick glance and sniff I continued on with my conversation. Next we arrive at Castro Station, the train at this point is full and the homeless woman is standing in front of the rear entrance "steps going down side." An elderly man, I am guessing in his late seventies early eighties, attempts to enter the train using the entrance being blocked by the homeless woman... he is unsuccessful. The man yells at the women to move out of the way, she doesn't budge. Getting more and more irritated, he basically shoved her aside and gets on the train. This infuriated the women because she was shoved, but also because now everyone in the train was staring at her.
Apparently being the center of attention was not her thing, but that definitely didn't stop her from yelling at the poor elderly man who just wanted to get on the train! Being the sweet girl that I am, I offered the elderly man my seat. He refused. By now the woman is pretty angry and now talking about her race and how she is struggling for shelter and food, it was kind of sad. The elderly man still thinking her ranting is directed at him yells at her, "I ain't said nothing about your color!" The Chinese man gives up his seat to the elderly man, meanwhile the elderly man is telling her to shut up, and the Chinese man interjects and says, "just ignore her... she is crazy! just stop talking." This is where it gets whack. The woman, freaks out and claims she isn't crazy, and says she isn't yelling at the elderly man. She points at me, and says its, "her!" From what I could make from her ranting... She was upset that I didn't offer her my seat, instead I offered the elderly man my seat.
Let me re- cap this scene. It goes in this order: homeless woman in door way, tiny divider dividing the elderly man sitting directly in front of the homeless woman, me, and the nice couple I was chatting with. The rest of the train is silent, trying to have on their MUNI faces... meanwhile being 100% attentive to the altercation happening. We have me, trying to not be involved and chatting with the couple next to me and an elderly man and homeless woman arguing. Then, she points and yells "it's her" to me. I am so confused. Next thing I know spit is sliding down my cheek.
Yes. That is right, I had just been spit on. I sat there shocked. How many people get spit on? Shortly after we arrived at Van Ness Station and a fellow MUNI rider recognized the importance of this woman getting off the train. Two BIG guys well over 6 feet grabbed her by the arm and just tossed her out the door onto the platform. Just like that they tossed her out the door like a bag of garbage and said, "time for you to go." Immediately after the doors shut, and we were off. Everyone went back to not paying no attention to anything, while I sat there with the smell of nasty spit stained of my cheek.
My second experience on BART
October 2007
For those of you who have never heard of BART, it stands for Bay Area Rapid Transit. Basically, it's a train that services and connects the East Bay to San Francisco and continues down to San Mateo County. If you would like to know more about BART ... all you need to know is this: too many people take these trains, and the seats are cloth. Did I just say Cloth? Yes! Did I just say too many people take these trains? YES!
In October of 2007, my distant relatives decided to have a family reunion. But, at nineteen years old who really wants to be at a family reunion? Not me. So, I hopped on BART into San Francisco to visit my old room mate who had just moved to SF for school. My first ride on the train was smooth. No incidents and I was blissfully unaware of the bacteria lurking all around and on me.
The following day, it was decided that I was being rude and needed to return to the East Bay. My Dad and Brother met me at the Embarcadero Station... we boarded our train and off we went under the bay! So, here we are sitting in our chairs chatting and laughing when all of a sudden we see a man standing in the corner of BART looking around. I tried not stare, not because this man was dressed like a gangster but because its RUDE to stare!
All of a sudden we hear something that sounded just like a narrow strong stream of water hitting the ground. All three of us look up to see the man still standing, turned against the wall of Bart with his pants unzipped... PEEING ON THE FLOOR. This grown man dropped his pants in broad daylight on a public train and PEED ON THE FLOOR!! I am sure this idiot could feel our eyes burning holes on his back, so he turns around and says, "When you gotta go, you gotta go." Just like that, like its not a big deal that I just peed on the floor. He zips up his pants, buckles his belt and of course by then BART had stopped and he walked off the train. So here we are shocked that someone just peed on a train, and pissed that we have to smell it!!
For those of you who have never heard of BART, it stands for Bay Area Rapid Transit. Basically, it's a train that services and connects the East Bay to San Francisco and continues down to San Mateo County. If you would like to know more about BART ... all you need to know is this: too many people take these trains, and the seats are cloth. Did I just say Cloth? Yes! Did I just say too many people take these trains? YES!
In October of 2007, my distant relatives decided to have a family reunion. But, at nineteen years old who really wants to be at a family reunion? Not me. So, I hopped on BART into San Francisco to visit my old room mate who had just moved to SF for school. My first ride on the train was smooth. No incidents and I was blissfully unaware of the bacteria lurking all around and on me.
The following day, it was decided that I was being rude and needed to return to the East Bay. My Dad and Brother met me at the Embarcadero Station... we boarded our train and off we went under the bay! So, here we are sitting in our chairs chatting and laughing when all of a sudden we see a man standing in the corner of BART looking around. I tried not stare, not because this man was dressed like a gangster but because its RUDE to stare!
All of a sudden we hear something that sounded just like a narrow strong stream of water hitting the ground. All three of us look up to see the man still standing, turned against the wall of Bart with his pants unzipped... PEEING ON THE FLOOR. This grown man dropped his pants in broad daylight on a public train and PEED ON THE FLOOR!! I am sure this idiot could feel our eyes burning holes on his back, so he turns around and says, "When you gotta go, you gotta go." Just like that, like its not a big deal that I just peed on the floor. He zips up his pants, buckles his belt and of course by then BART had stopped and he walked off the train. So here we are shocked that someone just peed on a train, and pissed that we have to smell it!!
Starting New!
Why am I starting this blog? The stories.
"Unless you live here, you can never really believe these stories. But once you do... you just smile and say, "Welcome to San Francisco."
All the stories told here are true, or at least mostly true. The names and locations of each story may be changed in order to protect my identity or the identity of others!
Enjoy.
"Unless you live here, you can never really believe these stories. But once you do... you just smile and say, "Welcome to San Francisco."
All the stories told here are true, or at least mostly true. The names and locations of each story may be changed in order to protect my identity or the identity of others!
Enjoy.
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