Old Myspace Blog Entries- For Prosperity: San Fran Co-op

Monday, September 18, 2006

Where was George Clooney in my emergency?

About a month ago I bought a bike, a good bike at a great outdoor-market price. (It was probably hot as well, but what do I know). I havent been riding as much as I would like so today I took it out for a spin. Three hours later I was in the San Francisco General Emergency room with the other crazies without medical insurance.

The MUNI rail did me in. San Franciscos public transportation buses (or MUNIs) ride on electricity and fit into grooved tracks in the street. I was on 17th and Church when my tire slid in the groove, throwing me headfirst into the pavement.

People, listen: never bike without a helmet.

I promise you I would be in a veggie state right now if I hadnt been wearing such gear.

Although my head was saved, my chin and body did not fair as well in the bouncing that took place after the initial hit. Two girls saw the fall as gasped; as I lay dazed in the street others came as well. After the general discombobulating effects wore off, the next thing that hit was pseudo embarrassment- Oh no, I created a scene! I was fine. Not a big deal. Then I saw the blood and the faces grimacing when looking at mine.

Please dont do that; youre freakin me out, I said to one of the girls who was the initial gasper as she look horrified at me.
Ahhhhh.you need to go to the emergency room, she replied.

Turn on the tears- no, not out of pain, not out of facial damage or body scrapes. No, turn them on because I am an American citizen without medical insurance. My greatest fear on the stay healthy plan: an accident where I could not avoid such costly care.

Somehow, sitting on the sidewalk park bench, men and their small dogs brought me ice, napkins, and a purple bandana. Thank god I was in the Castro and not in the Tenderloin where I would more than likely get ignored or robbed. Yea for friendly gay men!!

Brent really is best in these situations. He wont coddle, be grossed out, or make you get (costly) attention if it isnt necessary; he is great at making the decisions on what or what is not needed. I should mention that he has been a first friend responder in an earlier bike accident this summer of another friend, David. I went with experience.

Dont make me go! I cried.
You got to go ummis there a chunk of skin laying around somewhere?
My reply: Maybe over there, pointing to the spot of injury.

Looking at the gapping wound on my chin in Brents review mirror I realized I did, indeed, need medical attention. It looked as if a mini shark had taken a bite out of my face. Thats about when my small bout of shock set in.

San Francisco General. I arrived in the Emergency room in tears, I just want to see if I REALLY need attention because I dont have insurance.
And, please add this to the reasons I love this city, the man replied, Dont worry, you need stitches, but we pay on a sliding scale here.

San Francisco, the land seriously considering being the first American city with public healthcare, already has great programs for us poor folks.

Sure the process was slow; sure it was the sketchiest place I have seen in the city (and thats saying a lot). Yes, I saw a fellows scrotum because his gowned was too short. However, three hours, nine stitches, two pretty bad leg bruises, a stiff neck, headache, hands to sheds, swollen, and only thirty- five dollars later, Im doing all right. My chin stitched up amazingly well. I still have my interview tomorrow (damn I wont be pretty) and will do the best I can.

Helmets people, helmets.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

yea yea yea yea

My life is suddenly excellent. I am finally feeling like I am starting on a really strong path to a future I feel good about. Plus I am starting to get paid (small amounts) for the things I love to do.
I am completely ecstatic; I was hired for my first costume design project. I am working with a small company in San Francisco to design Far Away by Caryl Chruchill. I recommend the read to anyone who enjoys reading scripts. The project is exciting and interesting; the material is relevant, full of meat to delve into. Best of all, I get to make a ton of over the top crazy hats. (Over the top, lots o crap is my design specialty). Today I went shopping with the director, a sweet girl who did an internship at the Hanger Theater with Erin Zeruba (another SU alum). It just proves again what a small world it truly is, especially in theater.
Tomorrow I am doing freelance work with an event planner specializing in weddings. (She did Courtney Loves wedding I think thats good?). Im getting paid $18/hour, which I almost think of as getting paid to go to a party.
In an earlier blog entitled, the worst day of my life I spoke of the meeting I missed due to an unfortunate lock out with Todd, the Vintage 415 guy. In some strange miracle, he emailed me and said he would be willing to meet again to talk about some sort of employment. I think I am in love with this man. Hopefully I will be able to freelance for them as well.
I also got called into a second interview with the only desk job that has potential to make me happy. Fuse project is an industrial design company that is really starting to take off (check it out at www.fuseproject.com). The head of the company is looking for an executive assistant. The company is really young and laid back, and I got a great vibe when I went in for my first interview. It looks like it could be a really good experience in a creative environment that is doing big things. Even if I would be doing only administrative duties (planning his calendar and a PR lea son), I think it will work my brain a bit, keep me on my toes, and perhaps help me meet even more new friends (yee-haw!)
Part of me is waiting for the shoe to drop with all my good luck; for now Im going to ride it out with a bit ole smile on my face.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Hair chop.

Films classically depict the depressed on the brink of suicide cutting their hair. A classic scene: cue the sad music and moody lighting; a woman with long braids (normally a society women pressured into a loveless marriage) enters a bathroom and takes her future in her own hands. The first step is cutting her prized locks before she takes her own life. Luke Wilson in The Royal Tenenbaums also committed this suicide ritual. (Men can do it too!)

I feel I should strongly state at this moment that I am not, have not, nor cant imagine thinking about attempting this drastic measure.

However, I will state that I chopped (more like hacked) my hair about two weeks ago.

I understand the vein of these classic suicides. There is something about cutting your own hair that releases a very guttural relief in situations that are a bit out of your control. I am in a transition point in my life. Hacking my hair with a meat cutting scissors from my kitchen seemed like the thing to do.

I must admit I was not slipping in uncharted waters. I have cut my hair with found utensils in the past. Example: During the fall of 2005, I had an interesting but unfortunate hair modeling experience in London, which led to a style that can only be described as a female mullet. (It was trendy in Europe at the time; however, it was a difficult style to carry for someone certain that people can still smell the white-trash Midwest on her). On a vacation to Greece mere days later, I took matters in my own hands and cut the mullet with the scissors found on my Swiss army knife.

I told my mom of my newest hair hacking in the midst of also talking about how sick I was of living in a trailer, wanting to move on, etc. etc. Telling my mother I cut my hair to be about 3 in length scared her, scared her enough to call James to carry on a tayconversation about what was wrong with Erin.

Mom: Why would Erin cut her own hair? And so short?
James: Because shes a lesbian.

(He said she laughed but with uncertainty. I must admit my love life has been a bit slow, and I have just move to Frisco.)

Brent came up to visit on one of my last days in the trailer post hair chop. I was wearing sweats and dragging an overflowing garbage bag behind me. I was also exiting from a trailer. Has your hair ever been that short? he said. Saying no he laughed and pointed out my homeliness.

I was thinking to shave it off completely, just to see what it would feel like. I got scared because I was going to be unemployed soon and realized that a job searcher would perhaps be wary of a skin-headed woman.

I bought a new macbook with the insurance money from my previous laptop. (Everyone won: me with my insurance and updated products, the thief made some money, someone probably got a great deal on a laptop.)
I have now been doing photo shoots of my new short style on the program, Photobooth.

Great fun. See below.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

the worst day of my life

I have recently decided to explore the area of event planning. This lead me to practically stalk (at least their media profiles in varies magazines and newspapers, not to mention their website) the four men of Vintage 415. I wrote emails to other event planning companies, but my heart was always with them. I wrote an amazing cover letter and sent my resume their way. I wanted to work with them and would do whatever it would take to make it happen. To my surprise Todd wrote back- he didn't have a job specifically but my resume (in his words) looked good and he wanted to talk. Lunch at the Grove Thursday at noon. I was... ecstatic.

Thursday rolled around. I had my causal yet professional outfit planned perfectly. At 10 am I realized that I had laundry in the basement from the night before so I slipped on a pair of running shoes to grab it, leaving the backdoor open for my entry back. I was gone thirty seconds. It was enough time for my roommate to leave, closing and locking the backdoor as she left.

I was without money, a phone, a real clue about the neighborhood, or much of anything else.

Now, I'm a resourceful girl. I pride myself on my jerry-rigging abilities. Trust me... I had no options. I even called a locksmith, and for your future reference, it costs over 100 bucks for a 2 min job.

The uneventful, eventful day led to to sleeping on my front step, hungry. (This also proves my theory that some people on the streets are just down on their luck, not necessarily lazy or unable. I will continue to give to the men and women that are found there.)

I didn't get into my house until 6:30 PM. You do the math. I was outside for a very long time. It wasn't fun.

It goes without saying that I stood up Todd (and not even at an office where you can continue working but at a freaking restaurant!!!) I wrote an apology via email. I have heard no reply nor to I expect one.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

So Long El Ranch-o

So I left the ranch.

Seeing it roll on out and dropping the girls off at the BART station had me feeling... sad?!? Yes indeed, sad. A strange emotion I didn't think I would feel when thinking of the celebrated date earlier in the summer.

I am now living temporarily in a brand new co-op in San Francisco. (The name is TBA but Gelato Annex is being thrown around and my favorite.) I am living in a room with Brent Hagen another former Redwood Falls resident who knew?

The area I am in is lovely. The Mission district is incredibly vibrant with La Taquerias filled with hipsters at every street corner. This does provide some challenges however. Today I was looking for a very simple cooking ingredient, pepper. I went to the local grocery shop, unable to locate but finding every other spicy-for-your-burritos spice, I asked the woman behind the counter. Confused she produced a pack of Zig Zags Paper?? she said in a thick South American accent. My face clearly showed my disappointment. We were lost in translation (or lack there of why Ms. Grehl why cant I remember what pepper is in Spanish?) I have yet to find pepper the search continues.

I might also have another more sketchy housing situation (oh isnt that right up my alley?) but I wont know about that until next week.

Although camp still wants me to come in whenever I can, they are on vacation for the next two weeks; I definitely feel jobless. Its an interested situation to be in for a self confessed workaholic. I have been taking daily naps, which has been very refreshing. Today I got my San Francisco Library card and now have the wide world of books to fall into I could perhaps get used to this.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Librarians are bitches

So here I sit- they won't give me a library card (no proof of perminate address... because I don't have one) so my time clicks down on the internet.... 8 min and counting.

A brief update:

I moved out of the trailer and said goodbye to the international girls. I felt.... sad?! Yes. A bit bittersweet seeing it all go.

I have currently been sleeping on a blow up mattress on an awesome victorian house in the mission, which will become a new San Fran coop one everyone moves in (about mid month). Things should get exciting, although I still don't know if that is where I'm going to stay.

I don't have a job yet... enjoying a bit a relaxation. Such an odd feeling for me not to be rediculously busy.

I just finished reading a book on Bohemian living and realized I am getting closer and closer to my ancestors (Grandma Veitenheimer had roots in Bohemia).

Times tickin. Got to jet.