Blossoms.

Thanks, Shannon! It’s always nice to hear about people reading the archives; nicer still to hear that they’re enjoying it.

That’s all I need.

i used to get paid to watch porn. i did that for 3 years.
i’ve seen far too many blossoms for anyone’s liking.

i just needed to say… i am about halfway through your stuff posted on tnb and water has sprayed forth from my nose about 4 times already.

that’s all.

It’s my pleasure, Simon.

Wow. Thank you, Simone. What a wonderful thing to have said to me. You’ve really made my day.

That sounds mighty scary! Did you ever look over your shoulder, afraid that the boogeyman might be lurking somewhere near you? I know I would’ve!

That corridor was spooky as all hell. You’d go out the back, down a flight of stairs, and actually walk under the house itself. So at about five it got dark, and then from six onwards it was just pitch black.

I love that St. Augustine quote – thanks for bringing me to it.

Also, it’s a bullshit town, man.

“The house itself was older, but in great repair. There were three levels, five residents, a terrifying and dark corridor to walk through to take the trash out, and Dolores Park was about ten steps away from my front door. As soon as I saw it, I wanted to live there.

I found that when I travel I love being in new places. Going exploring into unknown territory excites me. Never knowing what might be around the next corner, and then stumbling upon something so new and unique it just takes your breath away.

Things like that keep hope alive. Knowing that there’s a chance to go back to SF or anywhere else that may take your fancy.

* * *

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St. Augustine

Yes. He does owe us. He should marry me and get me a visa.

I would like to do all of those things. Esepcially waterskiing. I’ve never done it, always wanted to.

He apparently has some recollection of Tim-Tams.

Though I must say, as signature as winter and hockey is for Minnesota, so are lakes, and you might have more fun if you came in the summer. We are very serious about drinking on boats on lakes and excel at it. If you’re giddy, you could do some activity like fishing or waterskiing/wakeboarding/wakesurfing etc., but it is not required.

I wonder if my husband will mind that I’m inviting international interwebs friends to the Twin Cities with promises that we will entertain them?

My whole thing at the moment is that the key to life is standing at the mid-point of given spectrums; as soon as I’ve gotten through the giant backlog of pieces to write that I’ve set for myself, I’ll be all over it like white on rice. In the meantime, let’s do high and low culture extremes, and get shit-faced in a local but reasonably clean bar.

It’s winter over there now, right?

Or we could go to the Walker Art Museum or the Guthrie Theatre or take in a little Frank Ghery at the Weisman.

Or we could eschew these low and high culture extremes and pay our respects to the time-honored, universal, blue collar tradition of spending every day getting shit-faced in a local but reasonably clean bar.

Whatever you’re up for.

If you’re brave enough to come in the winter, I’ll take you to a hockey game.

Hey, the Universe is going to be good to us in 2010. It’s the year for it. This is where it all starts, Erika – get in on the ground floor!

I will contact you through facebook. I’m guessing your probably in Reno or Dukes’ friend list so I’ll jump over and ask you to be my friend as well.

The story isnt too personal but its also something I dont want to really post publically because you never know whos reading!

Anyhow I tend to think the universe and I have a a good relationship (more so now, with a little therapy I think we are headed down the right path together) though I have yet to win Megabucks or land the dying sugar daddy – I dont at all judge Anna Nicole!

There are some really cool little corners of SF that catch you and don’t let you go easily. I love the Mission, and the Castro. I can’t believe how perfectly I landed in that place on Church and 18th.

Oh, and the architecture! Especially some of the houses around Haight-Ashbury. My friend Erinn visited one weekend and we were checking them out… I really want one. Or two.

Damn it, now I’ve made myself nostalgic all over again.

Oh, the job. The job, the job. I had to tell my housemates about it first thing, because I was worried it would sound like the lamest excuse in the world if they walked in on me watching porn: ‘It’s for work! It’s for work!’

Don’t worry. You haven’t missed a thing.

You know, I didn’t really think (which is odd, knowing me) about the omen-like qualities of finding diamonds in the street on LA. Although technically Zara found them; but still. The ring is mine!

What I meant was, I wouldn’t want it any other way than heading back to the USA.

Wow, I’m really getting into the Australia Day (which it currently is) spirit here.

I visited SF for the first time in Fall 2005. I stood mute and nostaglic when I visited Haight-Ashbury, even though I was a embryo, then an infant, during its heyday. The homeless people looked like they’d stepped out of wild fairy tales. Later, my escort (of the book tour variety) took me to Green Apple Books to sign stock and then whisked me to a hole-in-the-wall dim sum restuarant nearby. That was my first taste, and I’ve never had another because I don’t want to taint the memory.

Don’t even get me started on the architecture…

I fell out of love with this country for quite a long time. Now I love it again, not really sure why. Possibly because I’m living in a part of the country that is more like the England people imagine when they think of England…

Certain events have transpired that means a trip to the US in the summer is no longer impossible. It’s unlikely, with a trip around Europe being about half the cost and almost as exciting a prospect.

You should all come to England. Now. I have a camp bed you can all sleep on. I’ll take you to the Royal Hampshire Regiment Military Museum and show you the Round Table… we can go to The Royal Oak for a steak pudding and a tankard of ale in the evening.

One of the things I liked most about yoga was that it was a way of connecting into my body in a way that is usually really difficult for me; it was nice to feel that way.

Are all East Coasters unhappy? Is what I’ve learned true?

This is why I’ve always felt that I belong on the East Coast. I’m anxious and neurotic and I like snow. San Francisco is beautiful. But people just seem too happy. I prefer to surround myself with other caustic, bitter types.

There’s a line from Angel (because that’s a good show) where one character is talking to another about running away.

Character A says ‘I know, I know, here’s where you give me the big speech about not running away, right, because it doesn’t solve any problems?’
and Character B says ‘Oh, honey. The problem is you didn’t run far enough.’

I would LOVE that. I really liked LA. Remember that ring Zara found for me? Turns out those are real diamonds in that thing.

I’d like a drinking buddy too, and I like that we have the same neuroses. They’ll get along so well, because they have a bunch in comment.

OK. I will.

hows about you take another trip and have another adventure and come to LA and stay put here? we need people like you around, buddy. if for no other reason, i would like a drinking buddy, and we have the same neuroses. come here.

I’m really curious to know what it was that the universe showed to you as a sign for moving; feel free to shoot me a message on Facebook or over email if you don’t feel like sharing publicly.

I’m very grateful I could do something to help you out in your love of San Francisco; although, coming so quickly after I declared myself the envoy of the Universe (did I do that in this comment thread or Duke’s? I can’t remember) it’s a little eerie.

Eerie or not, I’m just glad. Don’t lose track – stay on that straight San Franciscan line and you’ll be fine.

The city alone has everything I could want i.e great culture, food, and wine country only a mere 45 min away.

Many others have tried to argue with me how SF is over rated but I think they couldnt be further from the truth.

My move to Vegas from Texas was all in my asking the universe to send me a sign in regards to the direction of my life. I was guided here through a couple of mishaps and certainly against my parents wishes, so much so that they completely cut me off. But I prevailed and showed them. Now I strongly believe SF is the city where I should be.

I asked the universe once again to give me a sign in regards to SF and it lead me to quit my job in PR/Marketing and into the world of wine which most definitly will open doors for me once I finally make my way to it.

Anyhow your post just reconfirms my belief and for that I thank you b/c every once in awhile I lose track of the goal and need to be set straight again and this is exactly what it did.

I have had offers, which is nice. But you really have to maintain the ilusion if it isn’t the real thing, and the punishments are steep.

Can’t you just get married to an American to get back over here? That’s how it works in the movies.

Damn it. For some reason, every thing I think about San Francisco, someone else is saying today on TNB. God, I love you, SSE.

It’s strange how one of the most common slips always seems to be missing the ‘in’ when referring to a country. Did you enjoy being England?

I hope America missed me. Surely the two of us are just like a rubber band being stretched further and further, and sometime soon, the two sides will have to snap back together?

(please note: in this analogy, the rubber band is unbreakable).

Wait. The producers are Greg and Steph. Okay. We got it covered.

You lose, Cusack!

I love the part about being stricken by everyone having American accents. This cracked me up. It’s precisely how I felt when I was England. It was delightful. But then I had that moment of awareness where I realized I was actually the one with an accent.

I love that the Portland girl was named Laurel. There are many Laurel’s here. Perfect.

This was so beautifully written. I think America misses you, too.

And yes, I’ve done many things in my life that I later realised were inconsiderate, and the feeling is awful.

but I think baseball is bigger in SF— Giant, in fact.

Wait.

Is there already an affiliation of some type by that name?

There was only one thing last week that wasn’t resolved, but there are still forty-nine or so weeks in 2010, and I’m not giving up just yet— if Brangelina aren’t going down, neither am I!

Yeah, I remember seeing some of your status updates. Didn’t sound good.

And don’t worry! According to unnamed sources, Brangelina is A-OK.

I want to go back. Dying to go back.

your last few line are interesting. it’s a sign. 2010 is going to be THE year. I’ve felt it since I woke up on January 1st. everyone is going to end up where they should be— where they want to be.

I have unwavering confidence in the awesomeness of 2010. Last week was one day away from being the worst I’ve ever had. On the last day of the week almost everything reversed, and it became probably the best week of the year so far… (although I was naturally saddned by the demise of Brangelina, which was broken to me by your e-mail…)

Parts of it were terrifying, parts of it weren’t hard at all, parts of it just clicked into place like it was meant to be, so my bravery went through peaks and valleys. Don’t worry, you’re not the only person to tell me it was a brave thing to do. Now, as then, it’s a nice thing to hear.

I really want to see New York. But I think I’m a California type. That being said, I’ve never been to the East Coast, and do feel like more of a latte-sipping liberal than an organic-smoothie-drinking liberal, so, maybe I do belong in NY.

What’s the yoga like over there?

I could never do what you did. Just up and move to another country. Even an English-speaking one. I spent a semester abroad in Israel when I was a junior in college and I’d only just begun to adjust after four months. For most of the trip, in fact, I spent a lot of time friendless and crying.

Come back. New York this time. We’ll take care of you!

If it helps, I left my umbrella in someone’s car in SF, so, with any luck, it will find its way to you, Stefan. I hope it does.

It’s nice over here. You’ll like it.

*under breath* Damn lousy prison country.

Like Zoe, you seem like an American at heart. I sometimes feel like an Australian at heart, and I hope to make it there sometime in the next year or two. I’ve never been.

I’d like to hear those stories, actually. People talk about how LA does weird things to people, but from what I’ve seen, I think SF has a little bit of the same effect on some people.

Simon, pardon the Serbian aside here, sir. The board is yours again.

As for San Francisco, I have stories of that city that I will take to my grave, or release in book form one day, if I ever become strong enough. It’s a weird place that does crazy things to a person. Haight-Ashbury was interesting, but more in a museum way, I thought, than an actual cultural institution of the present.

I like it.

This can be in the lineup after Manned For Life (starring Duke) and Friday Night Delights (with Zara and my wife).

Simon – Hang in there, my friend. June will be here before you know it. By the Fourth of July, you’ll either be so sick of America that you’ll want to dash home in said Astin Martin, or else you’ll be married and a citizen, or just “off the grid” and still here.

Will there be bars that play Justin Timberlake involved? Because if there aren’t, then I ain’t coming.

No, no. I have to go to Minnesota as it is; a friend I’ve never met lives there. So now I have two reasons.

Also, I see that I wrote “thank you both” above, when it should have been “thank you all.” And I’ll say it again: Thank you all.

I hope that clarifies things, Ms. Swimming Pool And Gate.

Are you kidding? I would kill to go back to SF.

Dear internet: literally. Email me if you can make this happen.

The Mission, the Castro, Noe, Market… I miss it all ridiculously. I loved living there so much.

Not the hills so much in the last few weeks of my stay, I’ll admit.

Head pops up from glass table shaped like a guitar.

What sniffing?

I don’t want to go back there!!!!

It’s strange how this missing San Francisco has kicked in so much these last few weeks. It’s actually making me really miserable if I dwell on it too much; the best way I can think of to put it is a kind of sharp-edged homesickness.

I think not dashing in is what caused problems in the first place. If I’d done that, I could have just cruised my way through the next two years.

(I’m eager to start shooting.)

It’s because we consume the most cocaine.

I would highly advise traveling for traveling’s sake. I think it’s very important. That’s a very Australian attitude of me to have, it’s true, but this is what we do. I don’t think I know anyone who hasn’t been out of the country at least once (if only to get away from the fucking spiders and snakes).

Thanks for the kind words; there’s an energy and purpose I saw in Americans that just doesn’t exist over here. I don’t know if people from other countries feel the same way, and I don’t know if it’s something that Americans note about themselves and each other, but it’s a good thing, I think.

Have you seen the Mad Men monologue about nostalgia?

OK. Get money, marry Ducky, save the world, move to USA.

I’m on it.

(Or at least a Moonie.)

Can you ever forgive me?

(I can see the future posts now… The Horrori.

10 million.

(I’ll make two movies.)

Five mil? It’s a deal. Of course, we’d need to live together and get married within the six-month engagement period, I think. I’ve done a lot of research into visas. This makes the fifth offer I’ve received to help me out (thanks Matt! You were #4).

Although I do balk at the idea of the mob enforcing what stories they wish to hear… certain skeletons should remain in closets, I think, rather than dancing (macabrely) out into the world.

Would we not all share a compound?

Brrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddddddddd!!!!

He turned me down. Logistically speaking, there just wasn’t time.

I still think we missed out on some wacky hijinks, though.

Speaking of, does anyone second a request for a Why Duke Wound Up In Serbia piece?

My sense of wanderlust has been acting up lately; I haven’t done any serious traveling since my relocation from Hurricane Katrina. Time to see some other countries, I think. Mexico doesn’t count. No disrespect to the Mexicans, but been there, done that, not a fan of drug violence. Longest I’ve ever been in a plane is about 5 hours. Time to get out and get some dust in my boots from far, foreign climes, I think.

….of course, the current economic climate precludes that.

Speaking of nostalgia…I have no desire to move back to New Orleans (or even visit, really), but lately I’ve been missing this one particular bar, where students in my grad program used to gather on Monday nights after class. It was an absolute dive, too, and not in the cool way, without much to recommend in the way of alcohol selection. But damned if I haven’t been missing the place utterly the last couple of weeks. Even dreamed about it the other night.

Just had to get that off my chest.

Dominick has a book called “100 Great Cities” (Melbourne is there, as is Auckland, as well as SFC), and it makes me wistful to think of the places I’ve been — Paris, Prague, Rome, Montreal, LA — and the places I’d love to visit but can’t right now — Warsaw, Tokyo, Berlin, etc.

We’ll see if we can find a wayward SUNY New Paltz student to marry you when you visit, and then you’ll be free to stay.

Also: it’s strange to think of you not knowing a soul, depending on the kindness of MySpace strangers, and sleeping in a hostel with three other people. I imagine you dashing in behind the wheel of an Astin Martin or something.

I’m hoping the two were unrelated.

It sure was – one of the big deciding factors in my trip to LA was that I didn’t really have to pay for the ticket; the ticket that was going to be my return to SF, which I’d already purchased, absorbed the cost of most of it. August 31 was going to be my back-in-SF-date.

But was your return ticket exchanged for the one to L.A. in September? I remember something about your having to use a ticket by a certain date.

But events overtook me, one way or another, and before I knew it, my carefully-laid plans had all gone astray. I’m choosing to believe that happened for some greater purpose which has yet to be revealed (come on, 2010!), and I was dealing with a couple of other things at the time.

While I’ve always had a desire to return, it’s only lately that it’s turned into a greater yearning. The problem is a tricky one – in order to work in the States (legally) I need certain kinds of visas, and the economic climate is not currently a friendly one.

I’ll get back. Sooner or later, and preferably sooner.

So, yeah, I think I understand you. But if you want that badly to move to SF, or to the States, period, is it really that difficult? Where there’s a will, etc.

But, then, this was advice that I could never take myself.

OK. Here’s what I can do to help:

- go to Urban Bread on 18th and if Tina or Bec are working, tell them that I sent you to try the Flash Freeze (alternately the Bi-Rite ice-creamery)

- across the street, Samovar has awesome waffles.

For something more substantial, and if you’re into seafood, I highly recommend Weird Fish,

but the weather here is definitely better. who doesn’t love 60 degrees every day?

Love ya back, Nick. I’ve since quit (again), and never plan on smoking one of those horrible things again.

That was a few months ago. The next day I wandered S.F. by myself after appearing on some TV news program. Was a weird day. I’m looking forward to going back.

Great post.

Cigarettes suck. Cough.

But I still love ya, man.

And that they’re just as bad for you as regular cigarettes.

Is there a brand called American Spirits?

They’re awful.

I quickly switched to Camels, and then promptly quit on New Year’s Day, 2009. I can still remember smoking on New Year’s Eve when I got back home from the party I’d been to. It was awful. I could actually feel the toxicity of the smoke going into my system.

I did the same thing when I went to France because I wanted to smoke Gauloises.

Like sage-burning and that damn poltergeist. It’s one knock for yes, two knocks for no, and no knocks when I’ve got a lady in the house, you third-wheeling son of a bitch!

But, I digress.

I’m not sure where exactly it is I’ll find myself – I tracked down some pieces in SF, that’s for sure. But if I am ever in DC, you better believe we’re hanging out.

I liked LA a lot too while I was there; admittedly, both are not representative of the rest of the USA. But I did go to see a psychic while I was in LA (when in Rome, you know?), who told me that I’d be coming back to the States, and that I’d always been American ‘in my heart’.

She went on to say that she saw me as a young Confederate soldier in a previous life, then leaned over the table and said, very sincerely, ‘They weren’t all fighting for slavery, you know. Some of them just got caught up in the war.’

And I thought Oh, I see. I was one of the good confederates. Well, looks like this customer is going away happy.