Last Times

We leave early Tuesday morning. Our last day of work is Sunday and of course, we've saved everything we have to do to be ready to leave for Monday. Personally, I'm in the nostalgic phase of leaving an adventure city. Everything in my mind is based upon "last times". The last time I'll drive through China town with the windows down after dropping Rachel off at work. Singing in the car in between stop lights where I drop my volume and watch all the Asians dedicate themselves to finding the perfect produce. All of them picking their way from market to market rummaging through countless bins of vegetables, roots and fruit I can't identify, searching for an acceptable specimen. The elders, all always so hunched over, ancient looking and scowling as if nothing in the world any longer meets their standards. There's always several panic-sticken looking men and women, practically sprinting, carrying heavy suitcases or pull carts, trying to make a bus that isn't going anywhere fast enough for them to miss it. I enjoy my drive through China town- it's like driving through a wormhole into a completely different world. Today was my last time sitting on my blanket in Percita Park with a book, my eyes stinging with clumsily sprayed tanning oil. My time in the park is rarely relaxing because it revolves around trying to find a comfortable balance between reading without sun in my eyes and getting my face tan. This is never relaxing because the balance doesn't exist. The relaxation only happens at the times when I put my book down so I can rest my arm and watch all the dogs play catch with they're owners who only like to talk about what breed of dog they have. You'd think I'd have learned to just leave my book at home. The goodbyes and mapping out of goodbyes have started to happen at work. I hate goodbyes. I'm sick of saying them and feeling the sadness that wraps itself around them. The hub of construction right by my house shifted in the past two days which means my last turn left onto Bryant to go to my house was had without my knowing. I feel cheated. Besides my last day of work at a job that I love, the biggest last is going to be my last walk down the wharf in between Rachel's and my restaurants. I can't count how many times I've done it in the past five months and it's probably my favorite part of the day. There's street performers, sometimes sea lions if I feel like walking down Pier 39, about 20 languages happening around me and a fantastic view of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz the whole way. This last walk will happen tomorrow. From Fog City Diner to Cappuros, which is the favorable direction because the wharf gets busier the closer you get to Cappuros. Also I can take my time since I'll be coming from work rather than rushing toward it. Saying goodbye to my coworkers isn't even something I like thinking about. I've worked here the longest of all the places and these people are like my family. The only bad thing I could possibly say about this job is about the uniforms. White in a restaurant is silly and impractical. That being said, I couldn't ask for a better job or for better coworkers. Thank God I don't have to say goodbye to Becca yet. If I did, it would make this week a million times more stressful. Becca will be coming to Denver for a few days and I'm so excited to show her one of my favorite cities in the country. As sad as all these "last times" are, we're ready to go. We don't hate San Francisco. Actually, we've grown to really like San Francisco. But it's time to move on. I just found out a few days ago that I was accepted into Hunter College. At least that's what the recording sounded like when I sneakily checked the status of my application via phone. I'm 99% sure I was accepted to Hunter. I'm going to start in February and have about 8 classes to take before I can apply to Hunter's Nursing Program, which is one of the best in the country. I'm keep thinking back to an 18 year old Joey, showing her chemistry teacher a blank homework sheet in defiance. He would look at me, take a deep breath, mark something down, and move on. Once he walked away I would lean back in my chair and continue my conversations with my friends about rehearsal the day before and about rehearsal after school today. I was going to be an actor- I didn't need to know chemistry. .....woops. The average GPA of a student getting into Hunter's Nursing program is 3.5. Whats the difference again between an electron and a proton? I'm excited to actually find out if I'm smart if I apply myself. I'm telling myself I am. I'm also telling myself I'm lucky part of the Nursing School application is a personal essay. One thing is for sure- that was the 'last time' I get to get away with not doing my Chemistry homework. I wish I was able to savor that moment more...I feel cheated. -lj