Not Especially Eastery

My neighbor Marin invited me to play tennis at his fancy club downtown and so for two and half hours yesterday morning under a forever-blue sky with the Bay Bridge, the Ferry Building and San Francisco's most spectacular buildings hanging out in the background, that's just what I did.

I stretched, showered and hauled my aching, aging body to the Castro after tennis to join Bevan and Sid for an Easter-ish brunch at Squat & Gobble.

Then the three of us strolled through the 'hood making a pit stop at Giddy for sugar before heading to Hellman Hollow in Golden Gate Park to watch Puerto Rican Refu-Jesus claim the 2018 Hunky Jesus crown. In true San Francisco fashion, the other Hunky Jesus finalists were Gun Control Jesus (his signs were pretty racy, even for the Internet) and Yoga Jesus, who led the rowdy Sunday crowd in a series of hilariously blasphemous poses.

The day wrapped up with a noodle dish and two episodes of Gilmore Girls on the couch with B and Ellie and I think that this Easter, although not especially Eastery, was an improvement over some of the other Easters.

Another Easter Sunday

I'm sitting on the couch nursing a sore throat as my bare feet rest on the coffee table next to a pile of used teabags and my fingers traverse the World Wide Web in search of an inspirational quote iPhone case. Celeste and Jesse Forever, which Bevan DVRed on STARZ last night, is playing in the background.

In the movie there's a scene in which a wayward pop star character who's supposed to represent Britney Spears or Ke$ha or someone of the like has a drunken breakdown over a boy she'd been dating and begins to cry and drapes herself around the representative from her management company in a needy hug and says, "I'm just so sad and tired." And right now I get her. I get that Ke$ha stand-in.

Easter's a tough holiday for me. I know a lot of people consider it a happy day on account of the Jesus rising from the dead thing, but it mostly just makes me think about my Aunt Jean who died from Leukemia when I was in college. I'm not sure if she preferred Easter over any of the other holidays but she dressed in pastel colors and wore hats and big earrings year-round so I always assumed she was a fan. Anyway, on the first Easter after she died I spent the weekend in my bed in my college dorm room on Water Street feeling lonely and reading Jodi Picoult's My Sister's Keeper which is about a teenage girl with Leukemia. The book is beautifully written but has a soul-crushing twist ending that took me completely by surprise and I remember bursting into tears when I'd finished and calling my parents and feeling embarrassed for having to do so.

Today, on account of what's happening with my mom, things feel a lot like that day in New York City almost a decade ago except that now I'm much further from home and a twist ending seems unlikely. So as my iPhone continues to buzz with "Happy Easter!" text messages from my friends and family members, I'm tempted to reply "Is it though?"