today i went to the fabric store. i bought fabric, for secret things (sshhhhh! you can't know until christmas!) and, really enjoyed it.

on my way back, on the bus from the mission to the "tender nob," as my neighborhood is sometimes so uncomfortably called, i had such a pleasant experience sharing a space with the people who were on the bus.

first, as i was waiting for the bus, the man sitting near me said, "man, it's cold isn't it?" this was ridiculous because the sun was coming down (it's always sunny in the mission) and it was very warm. i said, "no, it's warm! i like it!" and he said, "i just wanted to see what kind of personality you were! it is warm, and i like it too!" he struck me as a little odd, though pleasant, but i didn't sit near him on the bus since he snuck on the back anyways.

i sat in down near the front, and another young lady my age gets on and sits next to me. i thought she had spoken to me, but she was speaking to another lady, saying "you too!" when wished a happy thanksgiving. we smiled, and i continued reading a blog post about making thigns out of fabric (and i can't tell you what kind of things because i would give away what someone is getting for christmas!). i shared a smile with the thanksgiving lady, across from me, when the baby at the front of the bus cried incessantly and we all felt bad for her, and for her mother. i shared a laugh and a short conversation about teething with the girl next to me when the older mexican men sitting across from the baby stared clapping to try to distract her from her own crying.

i was very glad that, even when she was on the phone, she said goodbye as she was getting off the bus, and that the thanksgiving lady gave me a lovely grin as i exited the bus myself, as did another older gentleman.

that was one jolly bus ride. it reminds me of how much i really like people.

I know, I know.

I can hear you all now.

Erin never blogs anymore.

All four of you are sad.

------------------------------

I'll give you quick highlights, I guess, since it's been so long. I've started keeping a journal. I agonized for about 27 minutes about which notebook to pick. [Green. Lies flat. Lined. Smooth, thick pages. Letter sized.] So it's not super awesome yet, but it might be something super awesome. Just writing.

One of my favorite neighborhoods is the Mission. Great book stores [Dog Eared Books. Modern Times.], delicious burritos [Paplote. El Castillito. Los Jarritos], interesting community centers [826 Valencia.], tasty coffe [Ritual.], and clever little shops [Her Majesty's Secret Beekeeper.]. I go there a lot.

There is a man, Dr. Francis Rigney, whose mother founded Raphael House [and, before that, the American Cancer Society.], who often comes for dinner. For a while, he was Jack Kerouac's psychiatrist. He knew all the beat guys. So that would be a cool thing, if I thought Kerouac was cool. Actually, it's kind of cool anyway.

I like my work. I like the people. I'm trying to find a church...supposedly there are lots of Orthodox people in San Francisco but the only ones who are my age already live with me...so...

That's life right now. My project for myself, or really the project that Zak gave me, is to mull over the idea of community and how we can implement this into Raphael House currently. So more to come, I suppose.

- E

B to the O-M-B

Okay, you birds. I have finally sat down at a real computer. For some inexplicable reason I feel a bit like Doogie Howser. That's probably because I am saying all of these words I am writing in my head as if I were doing a voice-over. It's also because I wish I had a soundtrack to my life as awesome as that opening song was.

Okay, you birds. So I am in San Francisco now. I got here on Monday after having spend a nice weekend with a going away party, sleeping a lot at my grandparents', seeing my baby cousin Aiden, and going to St. Seraphim's (and then a BBQ at Fr. Lawrence's - awesome!). I've settled in fairly well. There are three other girls who live with me who are interns, and one who is a paid staff member. There are also other men and women who live on the third floor of the house. I will have two more roommates soon, that is, if the elusive "Rachel" ever makes an appearance.

So far my work here has been just filling in where needed. Yesterday (Friday), I started working in ChildReach by cleaning and sorting out clothing donations, which included a shirt with artwork incorporating fallopian tubes. That got donated to the GoodWill. The cool thing about this program is that I get to go on field trips with the kids! I might be going to the Giants/Dodgers game next Sunday, and I will be going with my co-worker (supervisor?) David to Angel Island with the kids.

The other big chunk of my work here will be assisting with case work and "working the floor," as it's called. I am not so sure exactly what the latter entails. That's what I'll be learning this next week. I've already sat in on a case review meeting, which was very interesting. I'm hoping that I will be able to take on work with the case managers. If not, there will of course be plenty of other things to do around here!

Besides living in this amazing place with some pretty awesome people (cooks! directors! families! interns! Darlene the front desk lady!), I get to live in an amazing city. Don't get me wrong, this city is (forgive me) bat-shit crazy. But it's awesome. In the last few days I've gotten to see a few different parts. I went to the Mission last night, which is full of hipsters. I laughed at them, secretly wanted to be one, and then laugehd at them some more. In some ways, the lifestyle is appealing, until you realize that it's just another case of the gluttonous monster Capitalism subsuming everything society produces, even counter-culture. But I digress. I went with a girl named Sarah, and we hit up this cafe which was cool, because I could get a nice beer without having to go to a bar. I also have been down to Union Square a few times now. There is a Muni/Bart station there, as well as a hotel with a bomb glass elevator. I mean bomb in the way that it's way cool, not that it blows up when you reach the top or anything. I've also hit up Civic Center, which is where the library is (I only checked out 6 books yesterday...) and I saw Gavin Newsom. Which was weird.

Today I went to Ocean Beach, and we explored a little bit the "ruins" of the Sutro Baths. It was strange, because at first we didn't know what they were (we being myself and Lucia), but we recognized them as resembling ancient ruins, and she suggested that there were baths here. I wasn't so sure, but some "research" at the Cliffhouse gift store revealed the former existence of the Sutro Baths. Also, apparently, San Francisco has been home to some pretty bomb World's Fairs. I mean bomb in the way that it's way cool, not that it blows up when it's over or anything.

I have yet to have any crazy adventures, although today as I was riding back from church on the bus a person got on. At first I noticed the headgear - a flowery swim cap. Then I noticed that this lady was pantless. Then I noticed this lady had hairy legs. Then I noticed this lady was not a lady, but a man, wearing briefs and a T-shirt and makeup and high heels. Then about three stops up this person gets on the bus again. Then I realize that this is not the same person, but another person dressed exactly like the first person.

This is very long, so I apologize. But this city is pretty bomb. I mean bomb in the way that it's way cool, not that it blows up or anything.

Follow me.

I know this is so lame.

But I have started to blog at tumblr.

http://erinbernard.tumblr.com/

I can blog from my phone, which is nice. But mroe substantial text updates will be here. Update your RSS feeds accordingly (ha. ha. ha.)

I love you all.

Sister Golden Hair

This song is. Amazing.

+ Memory Eternal

From Father Josiah:

ARCHIMANDRITE SYMEON, 82, of the Monastery of St John the Baptist in Tolleshunt Knights, Essex, in the U.K., reposed late in the night of last Thursday, August 20th. Father Symeon was one of the original four monastics who came with Elder Sophrony (Sakharov) from France to England in 1959 to found the monastery. Father Symeon’s funeral on Saturday afternoon, likened to “another Pascha,” lasted over four hours due to the large number of faithful – many being his own spiritual children – who came to kiss his hand a final time before he was laid to rest near his spiritual father, Elder Sophrony, in the crypt of the monastery’s funerary church of All Saints.

Father Symeon, right, with Elder Sophrony

I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Father Symeon in January of 2007 when I visited the Monastery of St. John for the first time with Pres. Catherine and the girls (and baby Garet). I didn't speak with him much, except for he was telling us a story once, while giving us a tour. He showed us his office where he meets with/confesses people. The man had life in his eyes, even if then he was 79 or so.

The photograph below is from the Paschal procession at St. John in 2008. Father Symeon is holding the icon with Father Z, standing on the right.

With the spirits of the righteous made perfect, grant rest also to the souls of thy servant, O Savior, and preserve him in that life of blessedness which is with thee, O Thou who lovest mankind.

sing the song, don't be long,

So I picked up this album today at Red Planet Records down on Indiana (What happened to CD World?). The place was chock full of classic, and I mean classic, records. Tons of the Beatles. Of course, some twit had to write his name all over Hard Day's Night, not that I was going to buy i anyway. I bought Revolver, for no particular reason.

But I digress. So I picked up this album, and to be honest, it is only because I love "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes." It's a classic song, but it most recently sparked my interest late one night as I was driving back to Riverside from Palm Desert this summer.

I have to say, there is something about the photograph, the whole set up of the album art that I really love. The dilapidated house, the blue shutters, the torn up couch that probably used to be quite a beautiful piece of furniture, the palm tree peeking out on the left side there...and the mailbox.

Below is another photograph from the same time. I like the more vivid colors, the change in details, and the fact that Nash is not looking at the camera. I like his style...


I also picked up another album for my Simon and Garfunkel collection, Bookends and then a copy of Paul Simon's Still Crazy After All These Years, and some Dire Straits and two Fleetwood Mac albums. So even though they'll be sitting on my shelf for the next year, it's nice to know they'll be here when I get back.

Timshel

"Thou mayest rule over sin," Lee. That's it. I do not believe all men are destroyed. I can name you a dozen who were not, and they are the ones the world lives by. It is true of the spirit as it is true of battles--only the winners are remembered. Surely most men are destroyed, but there are others who like pillars of fire guide frightened men through the darkness. "Thou mayest, thou mayest!" What glory! It is true that we are weak and sick and quarrelsome, but if that is all we ever were, we would, milleniums ago, have disappeared from the face of the earth. A few remnants of fossilized jawbone, some broken teeth in strata of limestone, would be the only mark man would have left of his existence in the world. But the choice, Lee, the choice of winning!

--John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Jordan and Bettina got married! Hooray!

Now to figure out what the hell is going on inside my own head. Hopefully I'll come back for a visit in November. Hopefully I'll come back in November more myself.

Today I Saw...

From Today I Saw. Love it.