It’s all about the alone time.
- Japantown in the rain: This hidden gem of a neighborhood is walkable from my house in Pacific Heights. It’s like a trip to a really cool parallel planet. I can spend hours browsing the 3-block indoor mall for the most delicate sandalwood incense, lucky bamboo plants, wooden house slippers, or intricately patterned origami paper. (Just don’t make the mistake I made and ask about the possibility of taking a class on how to fold origami. They will look at you like you’re retarded, because in Japan, apparently, knowing how to fold origami is considered so easy you don’t actually have to learn it. Only a stupid white person with a lot of time on her hands would ever ask a question like that.) While in Japantown, it’s imperative to sit down for handmade noodles and green tea. And then wrap it up with a visit to Soko hardware, where you can find every cheap kitschy household item you’ve ever dreamed of at Dollar Store prices: perfect-sized porcelain cat food bowls, cedarwood bath charcoal, paper lanterns. So many treasures!
- Imperial Spa in Japantown: This is a separate trip and gets its own bullet point. I save this one for when I’m feeling rundown or just generally sorry for myself. I bundle up and make the 6-block walk to Kabuki Spa’s lesser-known stepsister down the block. Sometimes I splurge and get a refreshingly authentic, no-nonsense shiatsu massage. But the real treat is the women-only baths, where I can luxuriate in complete anonymity between the sauna, steam room, hot tub and showers without having to carry on one single conversation, since barely anyone speaks English and I never run into anyone I know. I always come out of Imperial Spa feeling like the cleanest and most relaxed person in the world.
- Yin Yoga with Christy Brown, Monday nights at YOGASTUDIO San Francisco: This is my favorite yoga class in San Francisco, and probably anywhere else. I’ve known Christy Brown for years, and she is the real deal. She’s a wonderful anecdote to the crazy-frenetic-bhakti-calisthenic-faux “yoga” this town has become known for. Christy takes it slow, without ever waxing boring. She truly knows how to “set a tone” and “hold a space” and all that blah-di-blah. I have had some of my greatest moments of mental and emotional clarity in this room. It’s meditative, like a concentrated dose of Spirit Rock. Disclaimer: you will not get a workout. But you’ll get out of your head for an hour. Priceless.
- Movie night at the Kabuki: I do love to go to the movies alone. It’s one of those things that’s so dorky, it borders on cool. And I am now so spoiled by the Kabuki that I can’t stand seeing movies anywhere else. It’s been recently renovated as the “Robert Redford Sundance Kabuki Theater” (or whatever) and the ridic ticket fee is a direct reflection of the worth-it amenities. This is an upscale, insulated, decadent movie-going experience. You can pick your seat ahead of time, then luxuriate in either of the two onsite bars for as long as you want, slipping into your theater just as the credits roll. The down side of this is that I have seen a lot of movies quite tipsy lately.
- Taize service at Trinity Church on Gough Street, Wednesday nights at 7:30: This is a new discovery. Trinity Church, it seems, is a San Francisco-style Christian church that not only welcomes anyone, but actually devoted 3 full pages of its election-week service guide to their surprisingly progressive position on Prop 8! I thought this was cool. The mid-week taize is marketed as a “meditation” and has virtually nothing to do with a traditional Christian service, aside from the majestic looming stained glass Jesus illustrations. By candlelight, and accompanied by a world-class organist and opera singer, the officiant quotes Rumi and Marianne Williamson before leading a palatable ten-minute silent meditation. It’s short and truly sweet, and I kind of feel like a better person when I leave here.
- The Farmers Market: Sometimes it’s nice to go to the sprawling, glamorous farmer’s market in the Ferry Building, but when I can find the time, I prefer the smaller neighborhood markets with their multi-cultural flavor. My absolute favorite is the Alemany Market on Saturday mornings in the Outer Mission. It’s cheap, and barely anything is organic, which in a weird way, feels more authentic in this city of “sustainable, green, organic” rah-rah. I once bought a very beautiful cactus there for $4. It’s worth it for the tamale cart alone.
- The public library: I have always felt a kinship with libraries. When I was growing up, they were a refuge from my parent’s divorce and the dreadful joint custody arrangement. Wherever you are, there is always a library. I like to take mini reading daycations. Just me, a book, a city-owned armchair, a contraband hot tea in a to-go cup under my seat, and the perfect excuse to not answer my cell phone. Plus, how cool is it to be able to say, “Sorry I missed your call. I was hanging out at the library.” Right?
