Tuesday, January 09, 2007

filling in a ticket in her little white book

Why I am surprised that Blogger took a crap on my blog this morning, I have not a clue. It's clearly part of a ploy designed to coax me into switching to Beta, or the New Blogger, or whatever they're calling it at the moment. Oh well, I suppose a little blog detachment training is a good thing. But I also think I might have to succumb to the torture of switching over. Expect major aesthetic issues in the days to come.

Last night, I felt rather guilty, and then I felt angry with myself for feeling guilty. A car had blocked my garage. This happens to me occasionally, and it was particularly vexing last night because I'd gotten home late, and just wanted to get inside and chill. Instead, I had to circle around looking for parking.

This is where it gets tricky. I pay extra to rent a garage, so it does make my blood boil when someone blocks it. On the other hand, there is some weird, unspoken rule in San Francisco that you do not call the po-po on such occasions, because we non-conforming San Franciscans can't be expected to follow silly little parking rules. I watched, and waited, and still no sign of anyone moving the car. I try to be understanding in cases where someone is just dropping something off or quickly popping in, and needs to illegally park for a moment. But this was not such a case. In addition, the dude had parked a BMW with personalized plates in my spot- which sort of automatically made me more inclined to get him in trouble.

So I called the authorities, but usually by the time they show up, the car is already gone. Not this time. I missed it, but apparently, they slapped his a$$ with a ticket. And then, a wave of regret came over me. And I do not understand why. Technically, the dude was breaking the law. Technically, I have every right to be angry and get him cited. Technically, I even went easy on him, as I was given a choice between having him cited and having him towed. Technically, I know I was within reason. Yet, I felt guilty. I felt like I should have shown more compassion, should have been more easy come, easy go about it.

And then I realized that, even though San Francisco is so much my city in so many ways, I was definitely, undeniably raised on the East Coast, and bear its imprint.


I have the best kind of problem right now. RR called it an "embarassment of riches" today and never has that term been more apt. Still, I am suffering from an odd paralysis as a result. I need to make plans and decisions, and yet, all I seem to be doing is sitting around, starry-eyed, stunned. I just don't know what to do with myself, indeed.

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