Embracing Uncertainty

Isn’t it funny how time, even small amounts of time, can change one’s perspective?  I have been thinking about this all week, especially since I reviewed my business development plans for the United States, written just 3 months prior, realizing that none of the projects or ideas I had in mind were even a thought today.  All of this analysis reminded me of a writing project, albeit a small one, that I took on earlier this year.  Many of you might be aware of the women’s magazine Skirt!, a collection of essays written by aspiring women across our vast nation.  I prepared a small essay entitled: Embracing Uncertainty: A wish for all women around the world.  I was confident that my essay would be chosen for the June 2010 edition, mostly because it followed the theme of the month that focused on women and their strength to overcome obstacles.  Well, much to my disappointment my submission was rejected.  With all of this reflection lately, on projects that seemed so certain but never came to fruition, led me to this short essay.  I would like to share it with you today, as I think many of you can relate.  Looking back, in early 2010 when this was drafted, I did hold much uncertainty toward the path I was on.  But now, just 9 months later, I love my path.

I love it.

Embracing Uncertainty…

What does it mean to embrace uncertainty?  Is it about having the courage to take chances when the outcome isn’t crystal clear?  Is it about being true to yourself, admitting something is not cooperating with your ideal way of being, and making a change?

There, I said it.  CHANGE.  The most feared word in the English dictionary, worthy of 9 definitions as a verb according to Merriam Webster.   The most applicable definition of change is “to undergo transformation, transition, or substitution” (Merriam Webster).  I have a hunch that a handful of you, possibly more, will never embrace uncertainty because it means something will change in your life.  And that change, however rewarding, enriching and positive it could be, UNCERTAINTY overcomes you like an oversized red light on the road of life.

Embracing uncertainly isn’t a part of your genetic code, readily offering itself up through a molecular cascade of events in the human body.  Rather, it’s a unique ability; something unrealized in my life until one special day.  One day, January 1^st, 2010 to be exact, when this 36 year old, North Carolina country girl decided to relocate cross country: San Francisco.

It all started on that anticipation filled day, back in 1991, when I received my senior yearbook and recorded my well thought out plans for the future.  There it was, recorded in black ink, my declaration to the world.  Where would I be in 10 years?  This was a question with multiple responses, all of which took no more than 10 seconds to come to mind.  I aspired to be a teacher; I wanted to shape young minds into leaders and instill confidence in these inexperienced souls (meanwhile I was still an inexperienced soul myself mind you).  I was to live in Florida; that I was completely sure of (although at this point I had never even been to Florida).  The cool winters of North Carolina could easily be forgotten when surrounded by warm, tropical breezes.  As for my marital status, there was no question in my mind that MY prince charming and I would be happily married and truly, forever and always, in love.  This I was most certain of because I had carefully planned our meeting, courtship and marriage in my mind since my early childhood.  Years of daydreaming, of acting out my adult life through Barbie dolls and pure make believe offered what I thought to be a realistic and achievable scenario.  And last but not least, I was to be a mother.  Of all the certainties I fantasized about, this one contained the most passion and intensity.  The unconditional love experienced between mother and child wasn’t an option but a necessity.  It seemed to stem from a loss of my own father at an early age, possibly a desire to re-create the parent/child bond we once held and carry it through a lifetime.

Today, nearly 19 years since I first proclaimed my destiny, I couldn’t find myself in a more different situation.  My carefully crafted plans never suggested I move so far away from my family, let alone California.  An idea such as this at the youthful age of 17 would have surely sent me into a definite state of panic.  Yet today, at 36, here I am.  I have embarked on an inspiring journey into a diverse, heterogeneous society that couldn’t be more unlike my homogeneous roots.

Much as I did at the age of 17, I have a plan.  I plan to enrich my life with culture, business opportunities, new acquaintances and fitness challenges.  I have detailed goals with set timelines for completion, yet there is a clear distinction between today and yesterday: acceptance of uncertainty.  Life is full of uncertainties, yet as an innocent and naïve child you fail to see this or at least understand the concept.  Sure, I suffered my share of disappointments, physical and emotional loss, unresolved relationships and those occasional not-so-happy moments.  However, it still never occurred to me, in my youth, that my plans would not be.  A deviation from the course, let’s say.

Today I am still a dreamer.  I stare out my 12^th floor apartment window, counting the series of illuminations lining the steel frame of the Bay Bridge, gleaming like tiny twinkle lights that once adorned my family Christmas tree.  I hop on the MUNI bus #5, taking the 30 minute trek to Golden Gate Park, positioning myself in the Japanese Tea Garden and saluting the majestic trees, strong yet weathered from years of existence.  I jog along the pier, towards Fisherman’s Wharf, stopping briefly to smell the ocean and bask in its vast and powerful unpredictability.  I am reminded of the uncertainty found in the ocean environment itself; much like human life it is a balance between sheer survival and a courageous attempt at adventure.

Today I am still a dreamer AND I accept uncertainty.  I see its power and I embrace it.  For it is uncertainty that causes us to re-examine our lives and sometimes, maybe just the right time, make a change in our lives for the better.  It is the acceptance of uncertainty that helps us to understand life may not be exactly as we had planned.  It may be a slight deviation from the path or, as in my case, a totally new direction.

Accepting this, embracing this, gives you the power to adapt.  The power to deal with whatever comes.  The power to start a new career, change your look, take on a new hobby, end a relationship that is draining your energy, or possibly fly across the country and live in a new place… and smile.

The Meaning of Life

Yesterday someone asked me “What is the meaning of life?”

Is there a clear cut answer?  Not really.  Life means different things to different people.

I want to help others through my writing, giving me a purpose.

I wish to have close companionship and union with others.

Making a difference… that is my life goal.  Giving everything 100%.  And nothing less.

At the very core of this question comes a simple but heavy speech from Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple

I hope you will enjoy this and carry it with you, as I did…

http://www.ted.com/talks/steve_jobs_how_to_live_before_you_die.html

Enjoy…

Thank you sun!

The blinding sun beckoned me from my slumber this morning,

summoning me to bask in its glory…

I answered the call, lacing up my new Mizunos,

each step more exhilarating than the one before…

Sailboats speckled the bay,

splashing reds, yellows and greens across the horizon…

What a brilliant canvas!

I wanted to reach out and paint mine pink…

A small yacht named Picaroon sat in the harbor,

anxiously awaiting guidance from its master…

I imagined the freedom, the freedom to command,

the freedom to steer the vessel into the distant unknown…

The sound of a child’s laughter called out,

the Giant’s orange and black visible in the distance…

I was drawn across the bay,

curiosity drew me in…

Barely over 5 years of age,

tiny souls dressed and ready to conquer the world…

boney little arms protruding from baggy t-shirts,

black war paint striped their cheekbones…

Plagued by indecision and restless energy,

they spun in circles and fell to the ground…

Chaos ensued as the bat and ball made contact,

no one sure where to throw the ball and to whom…

Fathers offered a loving but stern hand,

Mothers peering through a tattered fence with considerate and loving eyes…

Moisture slid down my cheek without realization,

Embracing the love of the American family…

Again each step, more exhilarating than the one before,

carried me home…

Past the ballpark…

Past the sailboats…

Past familiar faces heading out on their own journey…

Thank you sun for reminding me what is beautiful, important;

I am humbled in your presence.

We all must come down from the clouds from time to time…

Preface: I wrote this blog entry in late March.  However, I didn’t post it because I felt the message was a bit diluted as I tried to touch on so many different points, coupled with the fact that my work had me in so many directions and blogging was not a priority for me.  Now, as my thoughts are coming together and I found a chance to review this blog, I thought it was an important post.  Remember, find comfort in your career.  However, remember to stop and smell the roses.

How many of you have watched the movie “Up in the Air” with George Clooney?  I imagine quite a few of you… I’ve seen it twice and plan to purchase it for my collection of inspirational DVDs.  Why you might ask?  Simply for one reason: I can relate to it.

Not only does this movie and my life share many similarities, but the symbolism to a human being’s need for interaction with others to have a complete life is all encompassing.  Sure, we must be happy with ourselves, confident in who we are before we can truly love and experience others.  George Clooney followed a routine in this film, one he rather enjoyed and thought to be superior to the mundane routines of others in his life.  However, as the film progressed I believe that he realized how important human interaction is.  Once he broke down his barriers, that is.

What can happen when one allows those barriers to break down?  When one comes down from the clouds, so to speak, from time to time?

If you haven’t taken the time to listen to this soundtrack, I highly suggest that you do so.  My favorite song is titled “Help Yourself”, performed by Sad Brad Smith, a Chicago singer/songwriter.  This song has so much meaning in my life, supporting my viewpoints about being open to possibilities and what is to come.  My favorite lyrics are simply:

Take the time to take apart

Each brick that sits outside your heart

And look around you

There’s people everywhere

And though they don’t always show it

They’re  just as scared and we would be more prepared

If you just pulled on through

I’m always in the clouds, moving from place to place, arid desert land with slot machines chiming in my dreams to cold mountain streams to fields of European sunflowers.  It is not simply an easy task to slip from this silent habitat, this safe haven of ascending above all civilization and escaping with only my thoughts and my battery operated technologies.  Music, words such as that of Sad Brad Smith, help me to settle back into reality.  To come down from the clouds.

What is it that I find when I descend?  What happens when I allow myself to break down those bricks surrounding my heart?  I find amazing people with bright ideas, smiles and passions.  Passion for life, simplicity; living each day to it’s fullest and longing to share those days with others.  It is a great feeling, I must say.

My last descent from the clouds, just this past week, opened my eyes to a new world.  I stepped off the plane, feet upon solid ground, somewhat dreading a 2 week stent of being grounded.  Don’t get me wrong; I am anxious to see more of San Francisco and spend time immersed in the simplistic side of the city I fell in love with last year.  However, I have been up in the clouds since my arrival here in the bay area; therefore, my short lived attempts to make new friends had produced very little in the form of quality individuals.  But this time would be different…

In the course of 6 days, my life has been touched by 3 individuals, all sharing the same open mentality and love of life.  I have a new girlfriend, someone who thinks like me and adds so much value to my life.  Our conversations are fulfilling, initiated at random coffee shops, the nail salon and the pet parlor.  Laughter ensues; talk of boys from yesterday, professional quests of today and dreams of family and love in every tomorrow.  I opened my eyes to what could be in my new place, descending from the clouds to experience life, and I was given an amazing new friend.

The random happenings in life, once you come down from the clouds, are maybe not so random.  Although I’m not in total control of my life, I can decide to be open to new situations, chats with complete strangers, offering a word of advice to a newfound friend at a local gathering, being inspired and inspiring others.

I hope you make the choice to open your heart to others.  Chances are you will find some amazing people out there.  People who add value to your life and, even if you do not realize it, you add value to their life as well.

Golden Gate Park: The Japanese Tea Garden

Now that I am a local, I want to act like one.  Tourists might think Golden Gate Park is something for them… a place to tour museums, ride bicycles and let the kids blow off some excess energy.  But it is the same for the locals as well: an escape.  Its lush green gardens and remote corners, much like Central Park, beckon the weary professional to release their stressors and escape for a few moments.

I did exactly this on Sunday!  I went to the Japanese Tea Garden for a little R & R, writing, reading, and some green tea…

This video sums up my mood (melancholy) and the beautiful scenery as captured by my little point and shoot camera (not too shabby, huh).  Enjoy!

Is there such a thing as the ‘right’ man? A woman with a ticking clock speaks out

Taking a break from my search for delicacies and exotic coffees in the bay area, I feel compelled to speak to you today on something a little more personal:

Is there such a thing as the ‘right‘ man?

I read an article this morning in the Wall Street Journal entitled “The Right Man is Getting Harder to Find“.  It described a woman, much like myself, with a career that isn’t her world but does, in some way, define her… athletic… college educated… an overwhelming desire to be a mother… and without a mate.

Let’s start with the basic fact: no two people are alike.  It is impossible to find someone just like you, and if you could in a fantasy world, would you really want a carbon copy of yourself?  Diversity is appealing and can create a balance between people, or at least that is my belief.  For example, if you only like certain foods and you meet someone that has a love for diverse cuisine, you may branch out and broaden your palette.  Or, maybe you spend most of your time indoors and your partner encourages you to try tennis or hiking, allowing you to discover a side of yourself that you never knew before.  This type of diversity is invigorating, new and necessary.

But, what about those types of diversity that are deal breakers or, at the very least, problematic?

Do we have kids or not have kids?

I am an educated individual, and I feel that I need someone who is my intellectual equal.

A balance between family and work is important to me.

I must be an individual with someone who compliments me but doesn’t define me.

The Wall Street Journal article focuses on a woman from Kansas City, my age, who is career oriented and passionate about life.  She has always known that motherhood was her destiny, yet she finds herself with one small problem: no husband to share her passion and life with.  For some reason men are bothered by her independence, her success, and quite frankly everyone she meets seems to be less intellectual and rather boring.

What to do?  Do you hold out for the ‘right’ man, believing that time will bring the two of you together?  Do you let go of the anxious feelings that are ever encompassing, telling you that your maternal clock is ticking and just let destiny take over?  Or, do you put yourself out there, in multiple situations, hoping that each one will bring you the answers you seek?

This is a dilemma that many women, professional women, find themselves in every day.  Is there such a thing as the ‘right’ man?  Maybe, maybe not.  I must admit that I have tried and failed at marriage; loving someone can sometimes blind you to the deal breakers that lie under the surface, waiting to explode at just the right moment.  Don’t get me wrong; I do not regret the paths I have chosen.  They have made me who I am and for that I am extremely grateful.  However, I find myself in the same shoes as Rachel Downtain: no prospect and wanting to be a mother.  with a ticking clock.

The article states that there has been an increase of births among college educated single women of 145% since the early 80’s.  I do believe more women are taking the initiative to follow their dreams of being a mother, even in the absence of a partner which is believed to be the acceptable or social norm.  It is an admirable quality, maybe to some a crazy, neurotic decision.  To someone like me, who has always carried that maternal instinct, it doesn’t sound so crazy.

So, should women settle by 35?  Should they choose someone just to choose someone?  Or, as Rachel states in the article, our vision or dream of what the future will be almost always turns out to be a bit different…

“Going the sperm-bank method is definitely not my first choice, but I am not willing to give up my dream of having a child just because I can’t find Mr. Right. I am having to realize that my fairy tale dream may just be inverted a bit . . . I may have the child before finding Mr. Right.”  -Rachel Downtain, WSJ

So, to all you single ladies with independent personalities and are driven by your career and individualism, what do you think?  Is this the century of redefining relationships?  Are women ready to stand their ground and accept someone in their lives that is an equal in all necessary ways?  Will it become socially acceptable to be an unmarried mother by choice?  Does it really matter what society thinks?

The San Francisco Project: Higher Grounds Coffee House… 3 down, 49 to go

Now it gets interesting… I am actively seeking out coffee shops, hidden gems in the small, local neighborhoods of San Francisco that almost never see a tourist.  I’m a local now, right?  So shouldn’t I act like one?

Glen Park is a small, quaint neighborhood in district 8, bordering Noe Valley, Bernal Heights and Diamond Heights.  Higher Grounds Coffee House caught my eye last week as I was on one of my expeditions, mainly because the tiny, informal cafe sat on the corner of Chenery Street.  Chenery Street is studded with tiny shops, weathered by time, evoking a sense of nostalgia that areas like Union Square and my neighborhood, Soma, could never create.

Higher Grounds Coffee House was a great escape this week, releasing me from the working confines of South San Francisco biotech conglomerates.  The atmosphere was most assuredly one that promotes creativity, mostly spoken for by the rounded wooden tables worn with the past etchings of those that pondered over their next words or pencil strokes.  Classical music surrounded you; large burlap sacks draped from the ceiling left me feeling as if I were one step away from harvesting the coffee beans myself.

There was a diverse clientele in this small setting: a young couple having a late lunch and laughing about their day, an artsy gentleman who claimed to have once taught Gwen Stefani how to draw, and then there was me.  Me, and my colleague, both of us with our Apple technology trying diligently to blend into this relaxed setting yet sticking out like sore thumbs.

The coffee was good, but it wasn’t great.  I had my typical cappuccino with a hint of raw sugar to sweeten the bitterness of the espresso.  The coffee shop didn’t offer free wifi, as a matter of fact, it didn’t offer wifi at all.  However, I guess this is one of the reasons I was drawn to this particular coffee shop in the first place.  It is simplistic: a release from the daily grind (no pun intended).  One doesn’t go there to catch up on e-mails, surf the web and coordinate calendars with matching laptops!  It is an escape from today… something we all need from time to time.

Unfortunately I did not try any pastries or food products during this visit to Higher Grounds.  It was purely about the coffee… for one who was trained by the Swedes to appreciate ‘real’ coffee, I would give Higher Grounds a B-.  But then again, who am I to judge?

Take this review for what you will, but if nothing else, should you find yourself strolling through Glen Park in the near future, make it a point to spend a few moments in Higher Grounds Coffee House.  Maybe you will be inspired to write your next novel…

The San Francisco Project: Pesce in Russian Hill: 2 down, 50 to go

My search for diverse cuisine seems to follow a rather enjoyable pattern: tapas!  One of my latest finds is a seafood tapas restaurant in Russian Hill known as Pesce. Pesce identifies itself as a “Seafood Bar & Venetian Cicchetti” establishment, cicchetti meaning small plates which are typically consumed for lunch or the early afternoon.

I took the 45 bus to the intersection of Polk and Union this past Monday evening which put me within 2 blocks of this new dining experience.  Even though I was so extremely close to my final destination, I couldn’t help but be distracted by all of the adorable shops along Polk Street in Russian Hill.  My temptations got the best of me when I noticed a small shop with some of my favorite European lotions and soaps that I originally discovered on the back streets of Paris.  I hopped in for a quick look and, after securing some female essentials, strolled through the doors of Pesce late, casually late.

If you have spent any time in Paris you will understand my description of the restaurant interior: normal lighting (not too dim), darkly stained wood walls and a white and blue patterned tile floor reminiscent of the casual brassieries in Paris that offered a stimulating landing for such greats as Ernest Hemingway.  Unfortunately my travels have never taken me to Italy; therefore, I am unable to provide a correlation between this restaurant and the country from which its food is inspired.

This night was rather quiet.  Tuesdays in the city, as you can imagine, are not that active.  I was joined by a colleague for this meal; actually, it was their suggestion to dine at Pesce (I’m sorry that I don’t have another unique story about how I found this place).  My friend and I were one of only four tables occupied this night, so I cannot speak for the level of service when the place is jam packed.  However, I can tell you that everyone seemed genuinely concerned about making my first time at Pesce an amazing experience, both with food and service.  Little did they know that I have created my own version of the Michelin Inspector guidebook in blog form…

So, what enticing treats awaited us?  My friend actually slipped a copy of the heavy, translucent paper menu into my purse so I wouldn’t forget the correct names and descriptions of the tastes that delighted us so.  I cannot help but sing about my favorite dish at Pesce: Pappardelle.  Pappardelle is a “wide noodle with braised duck and porcini sauce” (Pesce menu).  In layman’s terms, this dish contained egg noodles, smothered in a perfectly seasoned tomato sauce with what looked like pulled pork but was actually duck.  I’ve tried duck a few times in my life, but honestly I was never impressed.  However, this dish so delicately combined the tender, pulled duck meat with the tastes of typical Italian sauce and pasta that I was literally wiping the bowl clean with chunks of Italian bread!

Another dish extremely worthy of mention was the Capesante.  Capesante is “pan seared scallops with wild mushrooms, green onions, cream and truffle essence” (Pesce menu).  From the first bite I felt as if I were back home, in my mother’s kitchen, sipping one of her comforting creations straight from the stove top!  To say “cream and truffle essence” doesn’t do this dish justice.  The scallops were melt-in-your-mouth as they should be, but the sauce was what sealed the deal!  It was the perfect blend of cream and mushrooms: rich cream with a subtle earthy aroma.  Needless to say, my friend and I made a deal that I could enjoy the last scallop if he could have the last sardine…

There were other dishes, but since they cannot top the pasta with duck and the scallops, why mention them here?  Of course if I encounter something that is truly unfavorable, at least in my opinion, I will share it with you.  But, in this case, just as with my first adventure at Piqueo’s, nothing stood out as a bad dish, inadequate service, or just plain annoying.  I, like everyone else, have several pet peeves.  One is most assuredly bad service.  Being nice to someone is within your control, and I truly cannot accept waitstaff who make a conscious choice to be rude and inefficient.  If this happens to me you will surely know about it.  If everything is as it should be, I will be extremely satisfied and offer my customary 20% tip.  So, in this case, Pesce receives two thumbs up for service and quality!

The San Francisco Project: Piqueo’s… 1 down, 51 to go

Saturday night.      Black leather knee high boots, grayish black tweed pencil skirt, white tank and black cardigan: classic look.      A date.  Cozy and intimate Bernal Heights.      Piqueo’s.      Wait, did I say Piqueo’s?

Yes, one of the highlights of my dining experiences in this vast city.  I stumbled upon this gem, this diamond in the rough.  Earlier that day I found myself in the backseat of a realtor’s car (yes, I said realtor), riding along with a friend to offer a female opinion on properties and neighborhoods within the bay area.  As we snaked through the narrow side streets of Bernal Heights, I felt somewhat at home.  It was a town within a city, somehow offering a handshake to whomever would pass along its streets.  Once we found ourselves driving along the main street know as Cortland Avenue, my eyes grew wide as I examined the intimate shops and restaurants, offering someone like me at least a day’s worth of activities.  And suddenly, as if it were a game of hide and go seek and I had flung open the closet door to find my best friend, I laid my eyes upon Piqueo’s: Peruvian cuisine.

Later that night, dressed and in the company of a wonderful and true friend, I stepped into this tiny, yet welcoming establishment.  The walls were a orangish hue with rustic accents and low lighting.  Laughter was abundant; it was obvious to me that locals knew this was assuredly a place to be.  While a table was prepared for two, I watched the numerous chefs busily prepare everyone’s tapas and main entrees with fluidity and intense pride in their creations.  They stood within a few feet of the main entrance; a small bar for 4 surrounded the kitchen and could be viewed by at least 1/2 of the tables in the restaurant.  Cozy was putting it mildly; I was in somewhat of a daze even before the meal began.  The anticipation was killing me…

I must tell you that I have been obsessed with another Peruvian dining experience in San Francisco that occurred last May.  For the first time I was introduced to real ceviche!  No, not a soup of salsa with a few small bites of seafood mixed in; I am talking about a plate full of fresh halibut with an intense lime flavor and a type of Peruvian corn that, when eaten together, offers the most pleasing flavor.  This one dish has drawn me to all other Peruvian restaurants since this original encounter…

As you can imagine, I started with the Ceviche de Pescado, or halibut marinated in lime juice with a yam and Peruvian corn.  Amazing! Simply amazing!  The presentation was stunning; the halibut was nicely rounded in the center of the squared plate, topped with a sprinkling of seaweed.  One corner of the plate offered a small yam, the other corner housed the Peruvian corn.  A splash of color here and there and magic!  The halibut was so fresh, it must have been brought in that day.  The lime marinade gave it just the kick it needed, and the yam/corn combination cooled the palette to make room for the next taste explosion.

The subsequent dishes offered just as much pleasure as the Ceviche de Pescado did!  Unfortunately the online menu doesn’t seem to have some of the same dishes we encountered on Saturday; therefore, I cannot give you the exact name of the dish.  However, I can give you a quick rundown of what we enjoyed immensely: Steak brochettes served with a special sauce (out of this world), Chile Relleno unlike you have ever tasted before, filled with queso fresco and smothered in a rich tomato sauce, a potato stuffed with beef known as a Papa Rellena, and for dessert we shared the Torta de Chocolate.  Oh, and did I mention the delicious glass of Rosado I enjoyed?  It was the only one on the menu so I’m sure you cannot miss it…

I must also acknowledge the service we received at Piqueo’s.  The attention to detail was superior.  This night can be summed up as follows: superior food, atmosphere and company…

As I laughed at the two of us nearly singing in unison “I’ll take the CC” (that’s chocolate cake for short), I couldn’t help but notice the lady removing everyone’s tea light candles and offering a freshly lit replacement.  I smiled to myself, appreciating the extra care and concern each and everyone had taken to make my experience extremely enjoyable.  Our plates were taken quickly but not too quickly; they seemed to know exactly what we preferred and when.  If I didn’t know better I would think they had ESP… or maybe they’ve done this thing before???

After desert I found myself wanting to stay but having no reason to do so.  Exceptionally satiated, and somewhat giddy from the rather large glass of wine, I felt as if I were dancing my way back to the car.  I would like to believe that my friend enjoyed the meal as much as I did, although I can only be responsible for my own tastes, thoughts and opinions.  All in all I would say this restaurant is at the top of my list for food, hospitality and atmosphere.  Felicitaciones to Chef Carlos Altamirano for creating Piqueo’s… it definitely left a lasting impression on me!

Reflecting on my first week in the bay area…

Dear Blog World:

I just completed my first full week in the bay area!  With my rip roarin’ ambition full steam ahead, I managed to accomplish more than most people would in a month’s time!  Here is a brief overview of the week behind me:

Furnished my new pad…

Worked a full 40+ hour week…

Took a tennis lesson at the SF Tennis Club…

Made (3) new girlfriends, meeting one Sunday for tennis…

Explored 4 new restaurants…

Listened to a wonderful piano player at Max’s Opera Cafe…

Signed up for a talk on writing your memoirs…

Discovered 2 new amazing neighborhoods: Glen Park & Burnel Heights…

Saw Avatar in 3-D (awesome)…

Tonight I am dining in Bernal Heights at Piqueo (I’m into Peruvian food right now)…

Tomorrow I will walk to the Farmer’s Market along the Embarcadero walking path and gather some fresh produce to cook a fabulous meal!

So, I guess all in all I should be quite proud of the week behind me!  I managed to do so many things in a short period of time.  I love the conveniences city life has to offer, not to mention the intense motivation I have felt over the past week to accomplish as much as possible during my stay here.

As I said in my previous blog, I am ready and willing to accept as many challenges as I can in 2010.  As I settle in and make new friends, as well as entertaining friends that visit from the east coast, I will relish in the fact that this girl, from rural North Carolina, is showing herself that she can make it in the big city… just one additional task on my To Do List that is complete…