i am in san francisco and it is now.

it's wednesday night. today i took my resume to a german restaurant, went to the movies, ran some errands, had a drink with a lovely old friend and then sat in the park. now it is 8 o'clock and i'm at home in a sweatshirt and my pillowy german pants. i feel good. today i feel good. right now i feel good. i am taking it one moment at a time, trying not to become anxious or overthink. i will assess the moments as they come. this moment is good. i feel good being home at night. i feel good being quiet.

i am starting to restructure my ideas for the future. or maybe i am embracing the ones i wanted, but they are starting to seem plausible.

the ideal situation will be, i work at a preschool during the day. i wait tables a few nights a week. i get a little place out of this neighborhood. i am considering noe valley. i see people when i want to see them and i am alone when i do not. i read. i go out sometimes. i make dinner. i bake. i have my sweet little room with my big bed. i become an adult. i love myself.

i think it can happen.

i don't miss europe. i loved it. i am glad for every minute of it. but i don't miss it. i am fine. i thought i'd have trouble returning, reacclimating. i thought i'd feel distant or lose my joy. i suppose i didn't think those things would happen; i just worried. now here i am and i am fine. i am still beth. i have gone places and everywhere i was, there i was, and i am okay. i feel quieter. inside. i feel contained, defined, outlined. i have said that before and it is the most apt description. i have boundaries. i can feel them and they are good.

i have been doing things i don't normally do, seeing people i don't normally see, taking care of myself, having fun but also being calm.

this is a new beginning.

san francisco is beautiful. tonight i sat in the park with jacqui and breathed in the world. it is vibrant and dewy and soft. it is colorful buildings and clusters of teenagers smoking cigarettes and voices and the smell of churros and umbrellas of mandarin-colored light from street lamps. it is cars and wet grass and dive bars that open at 6 am and little girls on corners dressed as princesses. it is beautiful and alive and i sat there and felt incredible.

and jacqui told me about her relatively new boyfriend who she is so in love with and she's never been in love and she glowed and i felt hopeful about life and living it. that nothing is perfect and her job is hard and she's underpaid but parts are good and she is in love and she has enough. it is enough.

i feel really good. quiet. cozy. still. i feel whole.

i am not sure that anyone reads this anymore.

i am not sure it matters.

san francisco. i could be anywhere and i'm here and i'm glad.

i just keep going.

my name is beth.

this is not what i want.

i am in san francisco. i am home. i am with friends. i am in familiar places with friendly people in a beautiful, vibrant city. i feel comfortable. i feel calm.

and this is not what i want.

that's all that's running through my head. i don't feel panicked, but i do feel fairly certain. it is not that i wish i were somewhere else. i just don't want this life.

coming back has been lovely. i've been wrapped up in sweet arms and eager questions. i've been out to dinner and drinks and free music in the park. i have a nice place to sleep and potential jobs and many things to do and see.

and i don't want it.

i'm hesitant to find a job or a home. because i don't know if i want to stay here. it is fun and i don't know if i'm looking for fun.

i don't know what i'm looking for.

now that my daily attention is not consumed by such simple things-- finding my way, making the train on time, choosing a place to sleep, discovering a good meal, communicating in an unknown language, orienting myself-- now that it is now and i'm comfortable, i'm left with the questions. what do i want from life.

i do not think i want this. i don't want partying every night and i don't want high school drama and i don't want so much commotion. this morning, i did my laundry and watched all of san francisco split into two distinct lines. one in neon spandex and tutus towards the love parade at civic center. and one in cut-off shorts and ray bans towards the bluegrass festival. and i didn't really want either of it. i just wanted something quiet and soft instead.

what do i want.

i want a routine and i want love and i want a safe space. i want to bake and exercise and hold hands and make my bed. i want to work with kids. i want to be more settled. i want to be healthy.

i wonder if that can happen here. i wonder if i can make that happen here, or if i'm too entrenched in the unproductive and unhealthy routines i crafted for myself in this environment.

realistically, i need money and i need my own place and i need to get moving.

i'm scared.

i don't feel terrified. i don't feel like anyone else can help me. i don't feel like i won't be okay. these are the treasures i brought home with me from europe. i am grateful for them.

but i do know i need to make decisions. healthy ones. ones for the future.

i am an adult, for the most part, and i want a good life and i have to make it for myself.

i just don't know where to start.

i guess i start by deciding what i don't want.

i don't want the life i had before and presently, i am living it again. divisadero and fly bar and the same dramas and patterns.

this is not what i want.