People moving in blocks and waves across the Bay Area Rapid Transit; tough-looking Raiders fans, more mainstream Giants enthusiasts, marginalized Iraq occupation protesters, leathermen and assorted queers from the Folsom street fair. Through it all I swim with a giant 40-pound Schwinn, my San Francisco steel horse, trying my best not to bump into people, to smile in the sunshine.
Pending a credit check I have a place to live, a truly gorgeous apartment in the Southwest Mission. Nice wood floors, high celings, a patio out back in a part of town that's near the throb and hum, but just far enough off it to feel like a neighborhood. A little excited to have a place to call home.
I seem to be catching a lot of breaks, things really clicking and heating up. Can this continue? I hope so.