by jemma margaret
Despite Disney’s powerful storytelling and character development. Lumière is actually feminine.
When I first moved to San Francisco, I had a room in an apartment in the Sunset District, a designation apparently bestowed by a clever real estate agent (but not quite so clever as the one who baptized the “tender nob”) to disguise the sun’s perpetual absence in that part of town. Then, as now, I was prone to taking long walks, and one such long walk led me up into Noe Valley. Like no other city I have ever seen, San Francisco boasts the remarkable ability to sustain diverse micro-climates within 49 square miles. Suddenly, a gloomy 55 degree day became a cheery 70 degree afternoon. Everything looks better in the sunlight.
I imagine few of us enjoy the actual process of moving. At best it is a drag, at worst it involves sticking your head in the oven along with caustic chemicals to try to scrape up years of accumulated grease. However, having moved can be quite nice. Especially if the transition is from a room where electricity is mandatory to vision to one where only now at 9:22 pm am I beginning to consider turning on a lamp.
We describe bad apartments as holes, caves, cells, and so on–which makes me wonder whether a window or two might solve the problem entirely. One never hears complaints about a home having too much daylight or being too quiet. And if the 2007 best baguette prize winner is just down the block (with #6 and 8 from this year in close vicinity), well…perhaps if that doesn’t make lugging a suitcase up to the 4th floor worthwhile, then I don’t know what does.