Hostel in the Mission

What would compel anyone to live in such squalid conditions? I went to a house party this past weekend and experienced a level of self-induced poverty I never knew existed in San Francisco. The woes of being hipster.

I entered a warehouse-like building and was met by a long wooden staircase. Everything seems normal enough so far. However the top of the stairs open up to a hallway filled with trinkets and weird objects living the floor and walls. The wooden floor is stained by rotting wood. There are fashion mannequins propped against someone’s door. I don’t know what compelled me to use the bathroom at this point, but venturing forward I saw a cramped communal kitchen filled with hipster druggies. Gods only know what they were consuming. A bit further, I came upon the restroom. I walked in to find exposed nails from the walls and a mysterious nook where which I assume a water heater was once housed? I peed quickly. I wouldn’t put it past this place to have peepholes lining the shadows.

I went back out to join the rest of my friends who had found the party in the communal space. I walked through this dingy hallway for what seemed like an eternity, encountering drunkards strewn about the place. One man left his door open. I peeked in and found that his bedroom also doubled as a belt-making workshop. Where did he sleep? Who knew. Perhaps the leather accessories hanging from the ceiling helped lull him to slumber. The place is full of mysteries I will never come to understand.

I continued and found the entrance to the party. I had to walk through a communal workshop of some sort. I can’t even begin to describe what this area was used for, but it resembled a carpentry workshop. Did people build things here? Or did they sleep here? I was boggled. Regardless, I had to climb out of a window in order to reach a communal roof patio where the party was held.

I will admit that this commune was pretty cool looking. There were Christmas lights hung across the ceiling. Hammocks were set up as well as some BBQ equipment. I glanced at my periphery to find that in order to reach this space, you could have crawled out through a number of other windows – some of which led to straight up people’s bedrooms. I had the liberty of then peering into the party host’s room and discovered that it was a tiny, tiny dorm-sized box only fit for one twin bed, a bookcase, and a closet. How much did she pay for rent? I wasn’t able to nail down an exact amount, but I’m damn sure over $800. No way would I commit any more than $300 on a place like this.

The vibe was fun, but the conditions were absolutely not. Who would choose to live in a place like this? They must be really into the freaky or have a very high tolerance to the insane. Yet all in all, this was the epitome of a San Francisco experience that I wouldn’t have traded for the world. Although it did annoy me for quite some time.

Mosquitos and Wounds that Won’t Heal

Several random things in my life. The focus has been school lately, but even I’m getting sick of talking about it all the time. Let’s focus on some other things happening in my life.

Immediately on my mind is the fact that my apartment is infested with mosquitoes. I’ve never had to live in a place in America so riddled with them. I wake up in the middle of the night hearing buzzing against my ear. Absolute hate. Even after I think I’ve found and killed them all, I find their bites and bumps popping up all over my face and neck. It’s not a good look. Need to buy bug killers for this.

The next most immediate aggravation is a wound I’ve had on my leg since the Fourth of July. I foolishly climbed out of an apartment window and climbed a fire escape to reach the roof of a building. In the process, I stabbed my leg against…something? Thus, the result was a bloody leg and gnarly scab. All in all, it looks like shit. It’s also really itchy. Even though it’s been cold and windy in the city, I’ve been wearing short pants to let the wound breathe. Might I add that liquid bandages are not as amazing as I once believed.

Was meddling more trouble than it was worth?

I’ve been extremely stressed at school, even though it’s only been the second day. Because of schedule conflicts and a disgruntled student populace, I’ve been forced to change my schedule and argue with the administration. The issue is complex.

Everyone hates Everything is Media 1 because of a bad teacher. Everyone wants to be in Everything is Media 2. Everyone fights with the administration to get into Everything is Media 2, and they succeed. I was a lagger because I believed they would change me into Everything is Media 2 without hesitation. By the time I raise arms and demand getting in, the class is full. The only alternative is to disband Everything is Media 1 entirely. I accept. Thus, the entire class (now all 5 students) is sent into different directions. Everything is Media overall is a pivotal class for my quarter because it provides much needed 360 degree campaigns for my portfolio. However, I no longer have that and am left scrambling to find a substitute by my own devices.

Tis the summation of what caused me a lot of grief today. I suppose being in that small class would have been acceptable, but why would I pay such a large sum tuition not to be taught a damn thing? I suppose it was right of me not to be complacent, but as a student, I shouldn’t have to be dealing with these politics and schemes to begin with. Can’t I just concentrate on my education? Geez.

Update:
The night got even shittier. I was kept awake by a menacing mosquit; I got placed into a useless Improv class which conflicts with my work schedule and gives me no portfolio pieces; and when I finally did get to sleep, I woke up with a swollen eye.

If misery needs a muse, I can be its supermodel.

Start of a new quarter

The third quarter of advertising school has begun. As predicted, time has sure flown by. I shudder to think of the fact that I’ll need to develop three all-around campaigns to present for my portfolio review. The task seems nearly impossible, but then again, I know that I’ll be producing a mass amount of work this quarter. I’d do well to align myself with diligent people who have a good head on their shoulders.

Aside from that, I must also remember to not frack around too much this quarter with too much of a social life. Sure it’s important to maintain my sanity, but at the same time, there’s virtue in sacrifice. If I could forgo at least one “fun” activity a week, that would be goal well enough met in an exercise of self-restraint.

Develop-develop and always progress. Keep your eye on the prize and stay diligent this quarter. That includes maintaining a healthy eating regime, workout routine, and blogging schedule. In the larger picture, monotony in the span of three months is insignificant – so just accept it.

Once Again Discontent

Everyone loves San Francisco except for me. I feel like I’m living in a cage. Is there something wrong with me? I hate to keep bringing up my discontent, but if I let this aggravation fester privately inside for too long, who knows what might result.

6 more months.