On the seventeenth of January I wrote that I was at Java Beach. Then I went to the ICC and met my family next
door. There was no room at the
table. A family friend came by and told
me to sit with my brother-in-law. He got
me a seat and I sat next to my nibblings.
His best friend was there too. He
was saying that he hadn’t spoken to his sister in a while. His cousin came by and I talked to the host. The parents had plans—mom had meet my younger
brother in Berkeley. The sisters and I
sat with some of her cousins at the bar and the kids were nearby.
I got my bike and rode Sloat past Lowell
and to Nordstrom. I looked at Jackets
and shoes asking sales clerks. Then I
went to Express and Macy’s and found shoes I liked. I had to buy another pair because they were
out. I made jokes with the clerks. I walked to the Macy’s blazers and found
nothing but the clerk set me straight. I
went to J Crew and the clerk there showed me a blazer that was too small but I
liked it. H+M was for women only. I saw the perfect blazer at Nordstrom but
didn’t buy it. I passed through Express
on the way out. I found my way back to
Sloat and then went past South Sunset and then home.
Dad was in I think when I arrived but I
didn’t go up. I checked with one of my
brothers-in-law and typed for an hour and twenty minutes. Dad left the house around then—I heard the
car leave. When I was done I rode up
Santiago and Ulloa to 17th and parked at McCarthy’s but went to the
Dubliner. I saw dad making a U-turn on
Vicente. He was picking up mom.
There my older sister’s ex-husband—my
German brother-in-law—was drinking with my younger sister’s husband—the
Irishman. There were some girls there
and the German said that his best buddy was Quagmire from Family Guy because he
knew all the ladies. I got to know the
bartender. I stole the drink that the
computer programmer SI grad had sent to the German. He looked like a bro. There were a lot of 80’s hits and the Harvard
Choir was there.
The Irishman was swearing with an Irish
accent and the guy next to me turned out to be from Sligo. He said that the accent was not bad. The Brothers-In-Law left then and the guy
next to me bought me a beer. He seemed
to like me a bit too much. I left after
that and rode Taraval back.
On the morning that I wrote this I was up
at 830. My sister was leaving and I sat
some of the paper. My friend sent me a
message suggesting I show up later and then I got ready to go. Mom took the car to her Lithuanian
class. I went upstairs after trying on
my outfit and dad asked what I was wearing my top hat for, “what the hell is
this shit?” I packed up the outfit in my
big pannier then and frowned at my stack of papers. I said bye to dad and rode to Swell where I
pumped up my tires and bought a lock.
They gave me a cup of Andytown and told me about helping them to build
their roaster.
I rode to GGP drinking my coffee and went
to the Panhandle where there was a bit of traffic. I took Oak and went to Buchanan. She took my bag of clothes and got her boss’s
bike and we went to Four Barrel. There
we sat recounting some of the week. She
had received her Puma’s ashes and we had texted a lot. She kissed me but later then when I wanted at
the counter. There were a lot of people
double parking in front of us. We got on
our bikes and rode to get her sister’s bike because her boss’s sucked.
We went down 14th to Harrison
and then to 22nd to and my friend Charlie opened the gate. Her brother-in-law opened the door to the
house and he showed us his Cargo and greased the bike for us. My friend had disappeared by then so we
followed her and found that she was holding her newborn nephew. We chatted with the couple for a while but
eventually I told her we should go to meet the party at Dolores Park.
When we got there riding down 19th
the birthday girl and her husband were there. My Bike Party friends were there. I remember a roadie guy but everyone else was
new. My bike businessman friend showed
up. We rode Church and then the
Wiggle. The group stopped at the Panhandle
and I went to Falletti’s and got some Prosecco.
We were near 10th when the mountain bikers appeared. I zoomed to the buffaloes then and a few of
us got lost because of it. We ended up
finding everyone near the North Windmill at the beach ramp.
I carried my bike and they distributed
cake and coffee. We took pictures, made
programming jokes and reminisced over the Dr. Seuss Bike Party. The roadie guy stepped on my foot and I
screamed. He didn’t let that go for the
rest of the ride. We wrote up a card for
the birthday girl then—it was stashed in a bridal gown catalogue. We then rode up JFK again and I got to know a
medical professional. A couple of
friends got to know each other. We ten
rode down panhandle. The roadie guy was
waiting on Oak—I told him my foot was “swell.”
There was traffic on the path and then on the rest of the route to
Southern Pacific Brewery there was a lot of shitty car BS. We broke up a little and some car pissed a
few of us.
At the Brewery we locked up and I ordered. We sat down and one of the mountain bikers and
I spoke for a while about bike trips. My
bike party friends got to know my friend.
I asked her about her sister’s bike.
She and I had a beer and a sandwich.
I was surprised at how many people I had to say bye to as I left because
so many people had arrived from elsewhere.
My companion and I went to her house and had Prosecco and her roommates and
I discussed stuff while my companion tried on outfits.
This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This
Notebook Analysis series is meant to
be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In
each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.
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