I Left A Piece of My Heart…

It’s been way too long since my last post. September of 2021, left me feeling scattered; body, soul and mind. And since then, I neglected this beloved blog. My intentions flattened, writing adventure obliterated, and focus shattered. Was it the horrendous Mercury Retrograde that was wreaking havoc on everyone else too or the moldavite necklace I had been wearing lately that I was warned to be cautious with how long and often I wore it.

Moldavite is a natural, light green almost transparent glass. Tektite formed by meteorite impacts, found in Europe, most prominently in the Czech Republic (where my hubby’s mama hails) and what I describe as a bi-polar sort of glass. The metaphysical properties are strong. One minute you feel the enriched healing properties of transformation flowing through your body, the next a frenzy of overwhelming, out of control feelings surface, leaving you exasperated and mind warped. Whichever it was, it was not a great feeling.

I traveled back home to the Bay Area to visit with family for a long weekend. This was the first time since Covid hit that I boarded a plane. My apprehension to fly wasn’t bad until I arrived at the airport.

Denver International was packed to the brim with people. The concourse is under construction making matters worse trying to shuffle through people without standing or walking too close, but it was unachievable and the security line was a circus show. No way in keeping 6 feet distance apart. I reluctantly meandered through the roped path to the x-ray conveyors, working hard not to panic. I made it through, triumphant whilst plowing ahead, controlling my space in this chaotic, convoluted mess of an airport.

San Francisco International Airport wasn’t as bad as I expected. It was pleasantly stress free, herds of people weren’t on top of each other and the space in between was perfect.

Home away from home was a different story. At first it felt fine, but after the third day I felt heightened, my emotions were triggered easily and I couldn’t wrap my head around why this was happening. Hence, first paragraph above. I’m not one to easily admit when my feelings go awry. Most of the time people can figure that out by my silence and aloof body language. This time wasn’t so different, but I was about ready to lose my shit.

Thank goodness for mothers. Mothers who listen and although feel sad for what you’re going through, at least give you the gift of listening and try to offer words of comfort, especially when it’s about your brother. I still don’t know why he triggered me so much, but it’s in the past now.

San Francisco – Little Russia

My mother and I drove through Sunset, Richmond and the Presidio Districts of San Francisco. She also lives in Colorado and frequently goes back home to visit. She wanted to go to Fort Point as the last trip out to the Bay Area, she ventured on the wrong side of the Golden Gate Bridge. I was happy to go with her. We ate lunch first, at Cinderella Bakery & Café. This location makes an appearance in the first installment in my 3 book series of a Work In Progress. My tortured lovers, personal transformation novel. The food, needless to say was delectable, scrumptious and succulent. I love using food adjectives, as you can tell.

Red Herring Salad on the left, Blinchiki stuffed with sweet cheese on the right served with sour cream and raspberry jam on the side and a beef piroshki next to a nice tall serving of Kvass. Yummy goodness!

So yeah there it is my nice Russian food spread. The male romantic interest in the story is a Russian punk rock drummer. I’ve done and continue to research Russian culture. If anyone has some tidbits to offer or advice on where I can find more unique, unknown, interesting Russian facts, please feel free to comment or send links! For the time being when in San Francisco, Inner Richmond District, check out Cinderella Russian Bakery & Cafe. Bon Appetit! I was also secretly hoping Dmitriy (Russian Punk Rocker) would join us, but fiction did not become real in this case. One can still dream…

We drove up to Fort Point, full of tasty Russian morsels and drink and parked at the Bay. I can’t begin to describe with much affinity for the ocean how being close to it makes me warm and fuzzy inside even though the chill factor can be slightly uncomfortable. But still, it was such a lovely sight to see downtown across the way and watching boats, parasailers, and schooners traverse across the dark-blue waters. The fog rolled in full force. I worked hard to get my shots in before the top part of the bridge was immersed in gray clouds. And that, was still a glorious sight to see. I love my city by the bay.

Fort Point and Crissy Fields

San Francisco Downtown from Fort Point
Beautiful Golden Gate Bridge from the east side of the bay
The fog cometh, enveloping the bridge like a mama swaddling her babe.

I didn’t want to leave. Seriously was waiting on Dmitriy. Ok I’ll stop. But yeah, my home, my old stomping grounds, not here but throughout, I could just sit for hours staring out in nostalgic thoughts. Many memories of my youth traipsing through the city, melancholy over the realization of places and locations closing up, going out of business, defunct because of Covid. My heart heavy with sadness, but I sighed knowing I was there before closures and was part of that city history. We all have it, growing up with places and sceneries we know will cease to exist but look back and feel liberated knowing we experienced the time and place before they became dust.

Just like the heavily chain linked cement posts lining the water, my memories remain in tact for as long as I can remember…

We cruised back through the Richmond District to check out the Balboa Theater. Another locale spot in my story. Where Ruby (the protagonist) and Dmitriy check out a movie after an impromptu dinner date. They watch True Romance that was just released. Should give you a hint to the era. I had fun writing this story that poured out of me and double fun living somewhat vicariously through my fictional character’s eyes, checking out the actual places, feeling the airy vibe and energy of these two star-crossed lovers. Special thanks to my mom for driving us here, there and everywhere.

Outer Richmond District

I like the Muni electric bus lines crossing over the marquee, couldn’t really avoid it from the angle I was shooting from, but it felt authentic in relation to city life. Uncannily Happy Gilmore was playing. Another movie from mentioned era above.

It was a great day driving through the outer rim of San Francisco. We plan to take another city escapade trip when we visit my brother together. Though I grew up super close to the city (San Bruno) and visited a fair amount of places in San Francisco as a kid, teen and young adult, I realized there were parts I had never explored. I mean REALLY explored. Most districts have their distinct unique places like kitschy, novelty shopping or local eateries and historical sites.

Now that I’m approaching middle age (GAWD.) I have a deeper appreciation for full immersion despite a fair amount of friends disclosing how heartbreaking the city has changed. So much since our younger years making it unbearable to be a part of the once cool, edgy ambiance that made the city what it was for us. It no longer exists, the 80s and 90s of the city long gone. A forgotten mentality and amalgam of happily misspent youth. I think, generations past feel this way every time a decade comes to an end.

My own parents felt the same way back in the 80s and 90s about their youth spent in San Francisco during the 60s and 70s, but they too, especially my father complained how bad it had progressively gotten within the past ten years with the type of element moving in and the natives leaving because of high cost living and the trashy city environment.

Pacifica – Rockaway Beach

We said good bye and headed back to Pacifica where my brother and his family lives, driving along the coast on the PCH (Pacific Coast Highway). We stopped at the restaurant my nephew has bartended at for the past 6-7 years give or take. Nick’s Rockaway, practically on the ocean. I whipped out my camera taking shots of the surfers floating on choppy waves like rainbow sprinkles on greenish-white foamy frosting. The fog followed us. Sea spray almost drenched me, yet enough to spritz me and taste the salt on my lips. Ahh my home away from home. I always savor the ocean songs from the surf breaking on the sandy shores and carry the green-blue water and crashing sounds back to Colorado while leaving a little piece of my heart behind. Remember me.

Pacifica, California – Parking Lot of Nick’s Rockaway – Riders on the Storm
Pacifica, California