cow day

The other night, I hung out with my high school debate team partner Laura for the first time in 15 years. The first thing I said was, “How was your day?” I had no idea how her days had been for the last decade and a half, but you gotta start somewhere. I’d like to do the same with this long-neglected blog, and tell you about my Thursday.

I had the day off from work Thursday, because of a zany “floating birthday holiday” I get to use anytime during October. After half-waking up when SK got ready for work at 7, I slept until almost 10. Honestly, this was the height of luxury for me.

In New York, I had the bizarre work schedule of 11-7, which absolutely spoiled me. I could stay up until 1 or 2 in the morning and still manage to wake up leisurely and get a decent night’s sleep. Here in SF, I have joined the ranks of regular nine-to-fivers and I absolutely loathe it. Waking up at 7:15 is no great hardship compared to my teacher friends who wake up around 5, but I still resist it with every bone in my body. I am a big overgrown bearded baby.

So I woke up, turned on the space heater and had some coffee with the cats. (If I haven’t mentioned, Grayskull now has a friend sparring partner named Bean.) Powered on the computer and opened my Edible Queens e-mail account. And there it was, after three weeks of waiting, a glorious e-mail with the subject header cow day.

I’ll be honest- I had almost given up. I first had the story idea in early September, when my buddy Nick drunkenly lamented at 3am: “Dude if this is the city where you can get anything at any time, why can’t I go look at a cow right now?!” Since then, I had shopped the story around, managed to find an enthusiastic buyer in the WSJ, done all the reporting during my last week in NYC (while frantically trying to pack), and written the story in my first week here.

But since I turned it in, virtual radio silence. The original editor who had enthusiastically sent me the contract went on maternity leave, and her replacement editor was largely terse and unavailable. So when he sent me the cow day email Thursday morning, saying that he was “loving the story” and apologizing for the delay, I wanted to fly back to New York and make out with him.

So I spent my birthday holiday going back and forth with the editor, answering small questions and providing links and sources. I sustained myself with leftover chicken enchiladas (my cooking specialty) and green tea, with the windows open to let in the crisp fall air.

At 6pm, I headed out the door and checked the mail, where I found a sweet care package from my old friend Emily, with postcards and sourdough starter. I then went and caught a free movie premiere (one of my favorite pastimes/obsessions) with my aforementioned debate team amiga. We then had Pakistani food, sitting outside at a delicious dive, watching drunk and crazed Giants fans stumble down the street, screaming “Viva Los Giants!”

It was one day in San Francisco, but I hope there will be many more like it. I’m happy to be here.

4 responses to “cow day

  1. Nice opening paragraph. Not to pander, but I feel I have seen marked growth in the maturity of your writing in the last couple of years (which, I guess, would explain your recent publishing achievements). I’m proud of you. Just sayin’.

  2. What a great way to spend a birthday redux. Well done on the WSJ piece!

  3. What the hell is a floating birthday holiday? For real?

    Nice job on the WSJ piece. You used all of my favorite words.

  4. makes me want to drink alchoholic beverages

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