People in my Life Right Now

February 15 – February 21

There’s my sister of course. Milan. Yes, we really are Milan and Paris. There’s no other London, Berlin, Sao Paulo, or third sibling that everyone usually follows up asking about when they learn our names. Our parents just loved how they sounded, complimented, each other. She is also my roommate and I revel in the rare moment when she does stay at our apartment so we can have dinner or drinks together either at Harry’s Bar or Thai Stick. We used to go to Route 101 on Van Ness but we forget to have cash on us nowadays. When Milan asked what kind of wine they had, the bartender Trey (then dubbed “Diego” once learning our own names), simply said Red and White.

My old coworker and fellow indie writer and graphic novelist Aaron’s been messaging to hang out lately, and I’ve been so busy to remember that I’ve got a message from him. But huzzah! We’ve got a lunch date set up. Depends now on when– where.

I see Allie everyday. Same with Lauren, Celina, and Milli, Brandon, and Debra. Allie and Debra run the office, Debra more so when Allie’s tending to the personal itineraries of our company founders. They keep our kitchen well stocked with everything from avocados to Flaming Hot Funion Rings and Girl Scout Cookies and fresh juices. They also keep our Happy Hours alive and well oiled with never-ending Fireball shots and human-size bowling. Not only do we work together but when work isn’t in session we’re out grabbing drinks at Uno Dos or noshing on Mac N’ Cheese at Archive. We’ve also attended movies and spin classes together. I’ve found myself so lucky to be working and experiencing this city with the sweetest and most brilliant people I know.

Gaby is my go-to city girl. She has never failed to find out the free museum days or big sales and cool art exhibits going on across San Francisco. Like me, there was a time she couldn’t come back to this city and we were so far apart from each other, from our mutual friends, from an epicenter with so much going on yet both of us chained to hometowns that really were sucking us dry of everything but our ambitions to return.

Yvonne runs the creperie in the atrium of my office building. She knows when I need a coffee or Norwegian Crepe, without the greens. It’s consensus at work that Moolicious Crepes offers better coffee than the $2000 machine sitting in our kitchen. I like to ask how the location at the Metreon is doing or when she next plays tennis. She just came back from a match in Vegas.

The young cashier at Target forgets who I am and always elaborates on how he’s got to work early shifts on Saturday and still balance his homework fro City College.

The shadow of a large man who followed me down the street from the bus outside my office and proceeded to viciously touch himself.

There’s Kyle, whom I texted in a panic about the perv. He’d calm me down. He says he would so love to kick the man’s ass– not exactly comfort but strangely I do feel better. I message him a lot nowadays. Instagram writers turned Snapchat buddies turned late night conversationalists on subjects like the Loch Ness Monster, writing in coffeehouses (whether Rook lives up to the standards of Philz Coffee), and how he hates snacks, especially cookies. Late night despite it being almost 3 AM where he’s at– the East Coast.

I try not to overthink what our talking really is, but I can’t help dream about what it could turn into. It might seem far fetched or unrealistic or downright silly to be so interested in someone so far off. But when you feel connected, that’s enough to forget the gruesome mileage. Because it’s so easy to talk about stupid blunders at work or venting about the insecurity fits that overcome you and cause you to leave parties early and especially the people on the street who make you feel so disgusted since they have chosen you as their objects of their sexual harassment. Despite all the people in my life right now sometimes you can feel like there is no one there at all. Yet talking to my friend in Jersey just never feels that way. It’s a simple pleasure, the little things we discuss that get me through the week. It all keeps me positive, ready to see who else might just pop into my life for the weeks to come.

And maybe one week it just might be him. In the flesh.


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