Partin’ Shots

I had a great trip! I’ve been confirmed as a “good person” by someone I respect and told by a good friend that I inspire him. I’ve shared good meals, good talks, many drinks, and good times with most of my friends. It’s been hard getting to see everyone, but I know I’ll be back.

: time passes :

While I was there, I thought I had decided to move back. Now that I’m back in Juarez… I dunno… I like it here. It’s hard to explain why. Perhaps because there’s still a lot of this city that’s a mystery to me.

Disclaimer: I’m writing this after walking about 4 miles and am a bit on the drunk side, so… I hope no one takes offense to the slightly-edited stream of consciousness style of my writing.

Except for my friends, I don’t really identify much with a lot of people in San Francisco. One of the things I like about Juarez is that I can walk up to anyone on the street and strike up a conversation and the people engage me with no attitude. That’s just not the case in San Francisco; everyone seems to think you have some alterior motive or something.

So here lies my conflict… I love my friends. They’re the most amazing group of people I’ve ever met, but San Francisco, generally speaking, is a city full of wayward narcissists. The conversations I do strike up are generally dull and amount to people trying to convince me how unique or interesting they are. While on the bus going down Haight St., I commented that it’s apparently still in style to look like shit. There’s little middle ground, it seems… you either have poor personal hygeine and grooming habits or you hypergroom yourself. And both are fashionable.

The word “normal” used to send shivers up my spine, but now I view the word as just being who you are. And while I’m all for individuality, I like to think it should extend past ones physical appearance. I dunno… maybe I’m just not post-modern or retro enough to feel like I fit in. If I do move back there, I don’t think I want to live in “the city” as it’s called. I like very much what the city has to offer in terms of culture, events, and stuff like that but the people bore me.

And dating… I’ve spend most of the 7 years I’ve lived in San Francisco single. Here, I practically have to beat guys off with a stick. People here recognize that I’m a nice, interesting, intelligent, creative person… There, I feel like I need a gym membership or trendy, yet strangely unattractive clothes to get noticed. I love going out to clubs here, I hate going out to clubs there. Seriously, I have a blast at the bars and clubs here… I would rather spend an evening licking 9-volt batteries than going out in SF. Perhaps I’m not alone in these feelings and it’s why everyone does so many drugs there, to fuck themselves up enough so they think they’re having a good time. It’s odd… sometimes I think of San Francisco like most San Franciscans think of Los Angeles.

There are certainly more rewarding professional opportunities for me there, which is a very attractive aspect of living there. This is another conflict. Part of me wants to continue along that path and be a six-figure earning professional, but another part of me thinks that’s just a distraction from the more essential aspect of just enjoying life. Maybe my concept of what mediocrity means is changing. Life in Juarez is certainly what most people would term mediocre, but the upper class (and some of the richest families in Mexico live here) is mostly invisible so there’s not this obvious disparity between the classes here. People just want to do what they do, do it well, and then go have a good time. It’s simpler and it strikes a chord with me. Perhaps I started out as an overachiever because I saw all these things that me and my family didn’t have that I wanted, but now I’m getting a different sense of what “being rich” really means.

Maybe I’m just experiencing some form of culure shock. None of this quite makes sense to me… There are so many things to compare and contrast, but Juarez and San Francisco are so strikingly different that it’s hard to equate things to feel like I’m making an adequate comparison. I’d just like to relax in to some sort of existence and feel like I’ve gotten somewhere rather than always striving for something more. I don’t know how to feel satisfied while being ambitious at the same time.

Why do I like Juarez? Last night while walking home from downtown (at around 1:30AM), I stopped off and got some burritos. Then, I started heading down the street and passed a group of guys. One asked if I had a lighter or some matches ’cause he was dying… I handed him my lighter and noticed he was lighting a half-smoked joint. Upon hearing my accent, they asked where I was from and we talked for awhile about what my impressions of Juarez are while passing the dutchie to the left-hand side. I continued on my walk and heard lots of yelling and horns honking at the end of the block. As I got closer, I saw people running around and kind of walked in to a big street brawl. Nothing serious, but there were about 50 people running around like mad even though I only saw two sets of people actually fighting. I stood with the bouncers outside of one of the bars and chuckled with them about how the traffic was piling up ’cause the cars couldn’t make it through the streets because of all the people. I walked past at least 5 cars that had people in them making out. As I got in to my neighborhood, I passed a house where some guys were sitting on a car drinking beers. They offered me one, but I declined and wished them a good night. When I got home, I sat and reflected on the past hour and it just made me smile. It all seemed so “human” to me.

Well, I don’t think any of this has a point so I’m going to go to bed now. First, though, I’d like to share some lyrics from a song from “Sweet Charity” that’s been dancing through my head as I ponder all of these things:

There’s gotta be something better than this,
There’s gotta be something better to do.
And when I find me something better to do,
I’m gonna get up, I’m gonna get out
I’m gonna get up, get out and do it!
There’s gotta be some respectable trade,
There’s gotta be something easy to learn.
And if I find me something I halfwit can learn,
I’m gonna get up, I’m gonna get out
I’m gonna get up, get out and learn it!
All these jokers, how I hate them
With their groping, grabbing, clutching, clinching,
Strangling, handling, bumbling, pinching
There’s gotta be some life cleaner than this,
There’s gotta be some good reason to live.
And when I find me some kind of life I can live,
I’m gonna get up, I’m gonna get out,
I’m gonna get up, get out and live it!