My first ever "Opera" experience

"So are you guys coming?" our friends inquired.
I looked at my husband and he shrugged, "It's free. Let's give it a try. At least we'll get to see the inside of AT&T Park. I doubt we're ever going to go for a game."
"True," I chimed in. I know squat about baseball. And even though my husband knows the rules, neither of us are fans. So I dragged my lazy self off the couch, dressed warm in a sweater tunic, boots and my winter coat (yes, that's the attire for a regular September evening in San Francisco), and we made our way to the Park along with thousands of other pedestrians who seemingly were headed the same way.

There were hoards of people who had lined up for the SF opera, showcasing 'Rigoletto' on the big screen that evening. Honestly, I did not understand what the fuss was all about. To me, an Opera consisted of actors with high-pitched voices who sing their way through the entire act. "Why don't they just orate like other actors do and spare everyone the shrillness?" was a question I often asked myself. Well, I was going to find out today. It's good in a way that we decided to go for it; at least now we would have an experience to back us up when we tell everyone why we're not opera fans.

We made our way up into the stands, and what I saw when we entered left me dumbfounded. The grandeur of the lit up park holding thousands of spectators with the backdrop of the ocean was indescribable. We took our seats amongst thousands of others and waited patiently for it to begin. Going through the synopsis was absolutely necessary if I wanted to understand anything about the story at all. It was after all going to be sung in Italian. There were 3 acts and I was reaching the end of the third page when I caught my husband fiddling with his phone checking out some deals for electronics. "Don't you want to read this and know what it's all about?" I asked. "I gave up somewhere... here." he said to me nonchalantly, pointing at the third line of the first page. I shook my head and continued to read anyway.

And, it began. People around us were prepared with boxes of food and drinks, and that prompted me to check for the duration of the opera. 2 hours 35 minutes. 2 hours 35 minutes?! Maybe the aim is to go on till their throats are sore.

So the court jester Rigoletto apparently is hated by all the courtiers for ridiculing them and their lives and everything about and around them. Court jester. Really? How did that position even come up in court? And how would they apply for it? Poking fun at people for a living. Lame. He and the Duke are both cursed by this old man Monterone, because the Duke seduced his daughter (who apparently was married, and it was not her loyalty to her husband but his presence in court that kept her from flirting with the Duke; one promiscuous lady I must say), and Rigoletto made fun of him when he was arrested. All the courtiers as a plan of revenge kidnap Rigoletto's daughter, thinking she is his mistress. Yeah, why not. This ugly little hunch back would strike so lucky as to have a pretty young mistress. Well he could too. I fail to grasp how attraction worked in those days. The Duke was ugly, believe me, and he would get any lady he wanted! Maybe it was the money.. or his power.. okay, moving on. So his daughter is called Gilda. Her parents must have really hated her to name her that. Did they think they were having an 89 year old? And she and the Duke are in love with each other! Apparently they have seen each other in church and their 'eyes have met' and they fell in love. So, this Gilda.. .naive? Maybe. Stupid? Definitely. Okay, so after she is kidnapped and brought to the Duke in court, she and her father have this moment wherein she tells him all. That honestly was heart wrenching; the father-daughter scene. I would have been moved to tears if they were actually talking and not singing about it. The high pitched "Faaaather Aaaiiii love hiiiiiiim" in Italian didn't really tug at my tear glands. The end was tragic. Very. Rigoletto is furious at the Duke and hires an assassin to kill him. Unaware of this plot, Gilda is taken to the inn where the Duke is, and sees him flirting with the assassin's sister. She is heartbroken; but despite his betrayal, she still loves him and sacrifices her life to save him. Foolish foolish lady. This is how Monterone's curse is fulfilled. Scary. 

To sum it up, I was actually not bored at all! Yeah okay, those italicized sentences I typed in the paragraph above were actually in my head at the time I was viewing the opera, but it was a great effort and a nice way to spend the evening. My husband begged to differ though, and I did catch him fiddling with his jacket zipper multiple times during the show, which according to him was more interesting.

On our way out, I eyed the soy patty burger in my hand and noticed I had downed almost the whole thing. Soy patty. Eew. I really must have been engrossed watching the opera to have finished that. Proof enough, Rigoletto gets a thumbs up from me!

Apartment hunting in San Francisco!

This post would ideally have been written sometime in May 2012, but once you read through it, you will know why it's being written now in early August. "Too much happening" is the most valid reason I can think of. 

So anyway, for most of us living here in the United States, apartment hunting would not be much of an ordeal. It's really not that painstaking, this is the usual rut; you look around on craigslist or rent.com (or some such sites), zero down on what you like (and can afford), go to the leasing office, fill out a bunch of forms and voila! You're the newest resident there. 

When my husband and I were planning and coordinating our move from the South bay to San Francisco, there wasn't anyone happier than me. Our dream of living in one of the most beautiful cities in the country was finally coming true! What we were leaving behind was nothing much that would really be missed, so in spite of this being the 6th move in one year for me, I was overjoyed. Packing? No problem. We quickly got some boxes from U-Haul, put up most of our furniture on craigslist and we were almost set.

We started looking at the rent in the city and that's when we had most of our eyeball-popping and jaw-dropping moments. The lowest rent for a one bedroom was a little less than double of what we were currently paying. I will not lie, we definitely knew that we would have to be broadening our wallets a little more than what we were used to when it came to rent; we had mentally prepared ourselves for it. But we didn't know that this apartment hunting process was not like any other hunting we had done before, this was more like a job interview. Landlords asking a bunch of questions, scanning you from top to bottom to see whether you're a good fit for the place or not. Stressful! 

"Carry your checkbooks, offer of employment and pay-stubs".
"Seriously? I am not going for a job interview, it's apartment hunting!"

"Yeah I know, that's why I'm telling you to carry all that."

"Wow. Okay"

For a moment I had thought my friend was losing it. But we took her advice anyway, and the weekend we started apartment hunting, we had folders ready with all the aforementioned papers in place. 

SOMA, Mission, Downtown, Pacific Heights, Nob Hill, Marina, Castro, Hayes Valley.. we must have searched almost everywhere. We not only took appointments but also drove through these areas, in case we missed something that was not posted online. And that folder? I must tell you, we ran out of copies. I felt like an executive wherever I went, handing out important papers. If we were paying $$ at present, everything we saw was either $$$ or $$$$. I am not even going to talk about the $$$$$. If the price was right, the place was small and old (sometimes even bordering on crappy), if the place was great the prices were going through the roof. This was a long-term move, at least for a year, so we did not want to make the wrong choice. 

Some apartments had 'open houses', a term I thought I would come across only while house hunting. "Really?" I gave my husband a questioning look, and he shrugged "Let's see what it is." A weird gathering of strangers scanning the 600 sq ft. apartment is what it was. Each one eyeing the other, as to who is going to get the place. 

"So, do either of you smoke?"

"I don't but she may start soon!" my husband joked and we both laughed. 

"Seriously, do either of you smoke?" A landlord with clearly no sense of humor.

"Oh no we do not."

"Great, I shall consider your application and get in touch with you, thank you very much for stopping by."

After submitting a 5 page long application and all the details about our jobs and salaries to a stranger, our fate still lay undecided in his hands. Maybe smoking was the deal-breaker. What did his apartment have anyway? A tiny kitchen, a barely there-bathroom, and just enough room to turn around in the living room. Open the windows and you see a barren courtyard. That's if you're lucky and the windows are not shielded by the trees growing right outside. 

"We are never going to get what we want!" I wailed, sitting at a Starbucks and violently searching online for more apartments. I downed a chocolate chip cookie within a minute in my anxiety. "Call this place, there is a studio available." "Okay." I punched in the numbers on my cell phone and in the next minute we were on our way there. The leasing agent was a cocky thirty-something year old with his hair gelled back in a slick sort of way. "So, we do have this studio coming up, but we are renovating it so you will have to move out for a month or so in 6 months from now, after which you can move back in." The deal on this studio was so good, we were seriously considering it. "But after it's renovated, the rent goes up by $1,000." He said that so matter-of-fact-ly, I thought I had heard wrong. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand. We don't get the same rate that we pay for during the first 6 months? After all we are going to sign a one year lease." "But we are getting it renovated, so you will be getting upgraded appliances and those come at a price ma'am." I narrowed my eyes, wanting to punch him in the face. The douche bag. My husband very politely jumped in, "Thank you very much, we will get back to you." 

"Do you have any pets?"

"No, but would love to get one sometime in the future!"

"Ohh... hmm... okay, thanks for coming."

Clearly, not a pet lover.

"The view from here is fantastic! You must see it."

We walk in and all we can see from the window is the gym and people feverishly working out.

"Is there another window?" I ask, looking around curiously.

"No this one is it. It's great isn't it? You get to see all these lovely people! And also, there is an advantage. You can see whether the gym is full or not and plan your work-out schedule accordingly."

Score! 

There is a variety of people you will come across while hunting for an apartment in San Francisco. Some who will go to great lengths trying to sell you the place, glorifying the tiniest most unimportant details, and those who will not give a damn. If you take the place, great; if not, someone else will. It was an interesting process for sure, taught us a lot of things, but I am glad it's over!

Ultimately, we got approved for all the 3 apartments which were on the top of our list, but narrowed down on the one that instantly stole our heart. You have to visit us to see what it's like :)