An Unconventional Link Roundup
On time, seasons, San Francisco, fog, and changing your life
I. On Small Seasons and Long Calendars
I recently moved to San Francisco. A friend visited last month. We grew up together in a suburb of Philadelphia, and in most of my high-school memories, it’s freezing cold. I assume this is how everyone who grew up on the east coast remembers high school, because the “school” part happens during the cold months. All of my most potent high-school-y experiences went down in frigid parking lots, overheated classrooms, or cozy suburban finished basements. (That’s where the drinking happened, the basements.) Fall was vaguely stressful, winter was moody and hedonistic, spring was sad. Summers were hallucinogenic and I’m still not sure they really even happened.
All of which is to say, the first thing Suzy (the friend) said when she walked into my apartment was: “But don’t you miss seasons?” And then she was like, “How do you know the time is passing?”
I’ll probably return to the east coast at some point, but until I do, I’ll be rereading this. I found it on the internet.
On Small Seasons and Long Calendars — Ross Zurowski
Recently, I felt an odd longing for seasons. San Francisco has only two: pleasant and foggy. Trees keep their leaves…
II. How I Ran The Alphabet
I run. “Are you going to look for a therapist?” my roommate asked me a few weeks after I moved here. He’s in therapy, like most well-adjusted single adults in my age bracket, it seems. I tried therapy but quit because, I don’t know, I run. I run for emotional reasons first, physical reasons second. I run when I’m mad. Or excited! I actually run really fast when I’m mad, and a little slower when I’m excited.
Lately, I’ve been running a very specific route: west on Waller, north on Pierce, west on Page all the way to the Panhandle. At night, fog blankets this part of the city, so I’m essentially running through a massive cloud. I’m running through what used to be the Pacific Ocean. It’s pretty cool. And cold.