Home is where the Hearth is?

My partner left home two months ago. And I know not when he will return. When I might next see him sitting on the couch watching grossly graphic medical programs on TV, while the dog fights his Macbook Air for real-estate on his lap. Filling up any available storage space in the bathroom with ever more exotically scented products from The Body Shop. Wafting the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee through the house each morning while getting me used to the privilege of having tea magically appear bed-side everyday. Engulfing me in his warm embrace every night. The hearth to complete our home.

He left because the system made it untenable to live at home with dignity. Climbing up Maslow's ladder of needs - physiological well-being, financial security, love, self-esteem and self-actualization - is an impossibly slippery task if you're an immigrant in the US looking to establish a career in an H1B-poor profession and if you happen to love someone of the same sex*. To have a loved one attempt the climb under those circumstances is to bear witness to the following.

To see him forced to stop working in the field he loves - and because of that, in this country have his access to healthcare severely restricted. To see him battle dozens of small everyday humiliations; small enough to be invisible to others but sharp enough to shred self-esteem. Like being unable to drive legally, in a country hostile to public transport and therefore becoming dependent on others for many of your transportation needs. Or having to hear care-less (hyphen intended), spiteful remarks made within hearing range by thoughtless acquaintances. To hear him describe what his self-actualized life would look like and then watch him chafe daily at not being allowed to start on that journey. To find yourself powerless to pull your partner onto firm immigration ground based on your own immigration/citizenship status to ensure his or her continued loving presence in your home*. To feel him silently, unhappily count down the days to his departure but know that he was already gone. To watch your home turn into a house.

I know what must happen now. But moving on, when you stayed put, is difficult. Surrounded by missing Minis and un-adopted brindled quadrupeds; unoperated coffee-makers, unvisited theaters, Body Shops.

My partner left our home two months ago. I'm afraid I know when he will return.

-----
*Straight couples with discordant immigration statuses can sponsor their partner's visa through marriage which is recognised by the federal government. Gay couples are not as fortunate since the 1998 Defense of Marriage Act (DoMA) prevents the US federal government from recognising same-sex marriages for any purpose including spousal immigration.

Why I Love San Francisco

Bush Street in San Francisco is now Obama street! Someone should start a Facebook group to petition the city to actually make the change formal. What say?

The Young Museum

ADVENTURES IN FOG CITY - SOMEPLACE COOL



One of Forrest Gump's enduring lines for me, was how his Mom described life to him as being like a box of chocolates - "you never really know what you gonna get". That line apparently has now been immortalized on wikipedia here. Anyway, thats how I feel about San Francisco - After three years of living in what is really quite a small city, I regularly get surprised by discovering something new, someplace cool, some gem hidden, someone true.

Last Friday evening, I wandered into this short free, live concert by a 1980s band I'd never heard of before, called Sid Luscious and The Pants at the city's famed De Young Museum. Nestling in the Golden Gate Park, the Museum building itself is a work of art with a wonderful outdoor sculpture garden - I like the De Young because I think they try hard to make art accessible to relative philistines like me and (perhaps) you. I especially love its sculpture garden which I've visited multiple times while venturing inside just once. Mostly as a result of the Museum's efforts, on any given weekend day or night, you'll find it run over by people of all age groups and interests that gives it a cool buzz and a youthful vibe.

Anyway, the band was playing in the museum's large interior court thats dominated by a huge, memorable, piece of artwork named Strontium - an electron microscope image of the crystal lattice of Strontium Titanate. Not everyone likes it, but I felt it was the perfect backdrop for the band which was, gratifyingly, pretty good. C and I caught only the last 20 minutes of the band ...but the novelty of the experience - of seeing a raucous (in a good way) band merrily rip the usual near-reverent near-silence of a museum - seemed to me, a harbinger of a fun-filled weekend.