the horror, the horror

this is the ugliest shoe I have ever seen...



it's price tag? $375. who would pay that much for that shoe? who would pay for that shoe? seriously? who? I want to know so that I can be very, very, very sure I never talk to them. or look at them. or walk on the same side of the street as them. unless crossing the street to avoid the crazy granola crack elf puts me next to these itty bitty bunnies.

in which case I'd take the crack elf.

safeway

maybe it is that I do not have a car, maybe it is that I'd rather eat out with my coworkers, maybe it is that I don't like my kitchen, maybe it is that I am lazy, but I cannot bring myself to go to the grocery store. and I like the store. trader joes is one of my favorite places-- all the different things you can try for soooooo cheap? how fantastic is that? but trader joes is not close. and I don't have a car. and even if I get the zipcar I still have to go all the way there and there is kinda annoying. so I don't shop. I'll stock up on frozen dinners every coupla weeks so on nights like tonight when I get home and am starving I can throw my roasted vegetable enchiladas in the microwave. of course, now I am out of roasted vegetable enchiladas. and everything else except for some condiments and some low sugar instant fruit and oatmeal. which, despite being low in sugar, is pretty much disgusting.

the joys of working in the city, part 2

when I worked in LA, happy hour was a lot of work. car pooling. planning. clearing schedules. penciling things in. coordination. happy hours were events. happenings. grand affairs. you needed embossed invitations and 2 weeks notice.

now they involve 1 bad afternoon, 1 excellent coworker, and 1 walk around the corner.

oh, never let the honeymoon end.

sam woh, part twoh

tonight we were upgraded to real cups.

public affection

This morning I was moving pretty slow. Late night and whatnot. Karaoke. Drinks. You know the drill. Not really a hangover, but close. Stomach not at 100% but nowhere near serious.

So I get on the BART. I find a comfy place to stand against the wall, out of the way, not blocking anyone. The train isn't packed, there are plenty of empty seats, but my commute is 10 minutes, I can stand.

So I'm standing there. Stop one: seats fill up. Stop two: a couple gets on. There's still plenty of room, but the couple (who may or may not have been incestuous conjoined twins) decide to stand directly in front of me. Perhaps my singleness makes me invisible to those that can only see the beauty that is their own love, perhaps they were just assholes, but they decided to stand directly infront of me. In my personal space. Now, the train was not that crowded. There was more than enough room for us all to spread out, but these freakishly tall lovers decided that my face was where their armpits should go. Ok. Fine. Two more stops and I'm off. I can deal with this.

But then... then they kissed. Ok. One kiss. I can handle that. Young lovers. It is cute. Then one spoke. And they kissed again. The other spoke. Kiss. What, is speaking so difficult you need a reward? I could feel the acid in my stomach rising like the angry ocean. Things that should remain still inside began to twist and turn. Uuughh. Sentence. Kiss. Sentence. Arm stroking. Kiss. My not so hangover was growing to full size. It was taking on a life of it's own. I tried to look away. I tried to not watch, but they surrounded me.

My only calming thought was that if I remained unable to keep my stomach contents in check, said contents would cover said Amazon lovers.

That, and getting off at the next stop.

rainy days

light showers in the morning, thunderstorms in the afternoon.

that was the forecast this morning. oh, and I believed it. it was gray and cloudy and I thought I heard the rain against my windows.

but it was a lie.

no drizzle. no rain. no thunder. just sunshine and warmth. it was a beautiful day.

so, I started the morning with a walking tour. the SF Museum and Historical Society for the month of april are leading abbreviated walking tours of their Barbary Coast Trail. The tour started a the Old Mint (appapparently called the "Granite Lady" probably as it is made from granite) and wound up market to Lotta's Fountain (the gathering place for quake survivors and home to its memorial every april 18th), then back through union square (the lady on top of the Dewey Monument is Alma Spreckles, one of the grand dames of SF history), maiden lane (where the whores used to work before hermes moved in), and up to chinatown, with a nod to Old St. Mary's Cathedral (the one remaining structure in chinatown), ending at portsmouth square (the oldest square in the city).

after the tour I met up with friends for lunch at the cherry blossom festival. the northern california cherry blossom festival is the second largest festival in the United States (DC has the largest). I don't have many fun facts from the cherry blossom festival as this was more about lunch and less about culture. there were food boothes galore, many of them filled with yummy food. some of them filled with disgusting riblets.

we ended the festival with trip into the mall and out of the crowds. passing by the hour long line to the ladies room we slipped into a virtually empty cafe, displaced an older gentleman from his comfy seat, and settled in for some stomach soothing lattes. well, I had a latte. my friends had tea. we can't all be perfect.

chinatown

you gotta love chinatown. I think it is a requirement.

despite the tourist traps and the bad restaurants and the crowds, you have to love it. my favorite trips to chinatown are in the off hours, the early mornings before the continental breakfast at the hyatt is over and the hordes pour in, and the late nights when the damp, empty streets reflect the colors of the neon signs. I guess that's what happens when you grow up in a tourist trap-- you appreciate the down time more. the behind the scenes bits more exciting and entrancing than the show itself.

the thing about food in chinatown is that a lot of it is tourist food and a lot of it is cheap no-frills grub. holes-in- the-wall. being the behind- the-scenes fan that I am, it follows that I am also a fan of the local dive. so when coworker suggested a tiny shack at the top of some rickety stairs, I was in. what you don't have in flavor, you can easily make up for in flavor. and sam wo has flavor (even if it is a sorta tourist trap). you walk in through the kitchen and up a narrow stairwell to the tiny dining room where the waitstaff of one will certainly not harass you. the food is not bad, the tea is good, despite the styrofoam cups, and the check comes with tasty milk flavored candy.

but the best part? grabbing a milk tea (with pudding not pearl) and walking back through the emptying streets and the closing shops, talking about nothing in particular. chinatown shops are fun and filled with many hilarious things you can buy for just one dollar, but chinatown, just chinatown, all by itself, is even better.

the joys of working in the city

I love that my afternoon coffee break in no way includes a hot sticky trek across a hot stick parking lot. or getting into a hot sticky car and heading out into hot sticky valley traffic only to have to deal with hot sticky parking. it does not include a latte and a rage muffin to go. I do not get back to my desk more agitated than when I left it. I do not avoid the afternoon coffee break, I embrace it. I love it. I revel in it.

I think that if I could marry the afternoon coffee break, I would.

crazy

San Francisco is a crazy place. it is filled with crazy people. I was totally going to be one of these people this morning. I set the alarm for 3am so I could get up and catch the first BART into the city to join the party -er- Memorial at Lotta's Fountain. well, 3am came and went. I decided (for many valid reasons) to keep my crazy inside and watch it live on TV. Why get up that early if there really isn't an earthquake?


reason no.1: that is a lot of people


a San Francisco fireman climbs this ladder to unfurl an American flag. this ladder is historic. but I do not remember why. I will have to look it up. you should too. we can pretend we're studding.


this is not Tony Bennent singing the national anthem. the paper said he "may" show. he did not.


flag, unfurled, in front of Ritz Carleton, where you can soon buy a condo.


Mayor Newsom will later harass these genuine great quake surviviors talk-show style with questions.


if you could actually see what this is, you would think it was nice.


figuring out what to do with the wreath


Taren Sapienza, who may or may not have been drunk, was MC of the event. this is an event she has been associated with for many many years so today she should have been on her a-game. I sure would hate to see her b game.


and the wreath goes up





and then the horse drawn fire wagon goes by.

there was a moment of silence and then an old-fashioned fire bell was rung and then the modern sirens started to wail and wail and that moment was beautiful and somber, but the rest of the event had a much more festive tone. and it is fitting to celebrate the reconstruction of our fair city, it is fitting to celebrate all we have gained in the past 100 years, but we should not forget that at any moment this could happen again.

the wonders of the orient

I was a bit bored this afternoon, so I decided on a package tour of Asia.




we'll start our trip in India.


Vishnu

and hang out with Vishnu and his friends for a bit.

then we'll move on to Indonesia,


Indonesian rod puppets

where the women are thin...


not really my type

and the men are terrifying.

ok, enough of that. I think I'm done with Indonesia. tray tables up, we're off to Thailand.


feeling enlightened?

where Buddha is beautiful.

I wish I could stay in Thailand. Thailand is filled with pretty peaceful things. but passport out, comrade, we're in china now.


she wears a cape of human skin

where the women are fearsome,


I love the Chinese

and the men are part donkey. maybe china isn't so bad. this guy is pretty amazing.


tomb guardians

and aren't they an awesome duo?


more tomb guardians

the couple that slay together, stay together.


huge pointy teeth

the people's rabbit will kill you.

had your fill of communism? we'll let's head on out to a capitalistic paradise.


I have no idea what this is

Japan. where everything is creepy.


what is that?

ah! more creepy.


temple guard

this guy isn't so much creepy as just scary.


the anti-Buddha

the road to enlightenment is filled with pain!



yet more temple guards

seriously, this guy will eff you up


chicken

Japan is getting scary. heck, even the chickens in Japan will kill you.



how many Buddhas does it take to screw in a lightbulb

enlightened? or just bored?


and this concludes my whirlwind tour of Asia.

the thing to do

people love to take pictures of their food. maybe it is just the people i know. maybe not. food blogs are apparently the new cool thing to do. some of them are very good. others are not. i don't know which are not because i have very discerning taste and have spit out the bad ones. tonight, i went for sushi with my coworker who documents his eating habits on his blog.

(photo by coworker)

(photo of coworker)

food cannot be touched until the appropriate pictures have been taken. i am amused by this. it is not something i think i'll ever really get behind because i usually don't even remember i have a camera until it is too late.

(photo of leftovers)

panhandlers

today i saw a panhandler with an actual pan.

moment, fleeting

yes, yes, it has been raining for 76 years and this is getting old. it won't end until the entire bay area slips off into the sea. i'm sick of it, everyone is sick of it, and there is nothing we can do until the rest of the country stops its obsessive use of fossil fuels and we end global warming. or we hit the next ice age, which, if you watch terrible movies while completely immobilaized over the weekend, could happen at any second.

but it isn't all bad. there are thesse wonderful little moments between the storms that i love. gorgeous moments. when the air smells clean and fresh and the sun starts to fight its way through the clouds and the light is golden and glowing and when you step outside after a long, long day and are instantly invigorated.

italy by BART

its flower show time at macy's!



i keep asking why this is a big deal, but no one will tell me.



the theme is italy. as you can tell by these pictures.



granted, i've never been to italy, so i'm probably not the best person to ask (not that you are asking), but if you did ask i would say no. no, this looks nothing like italy. i would imagine italy would have a) more italians and b) less department store. but it sure smells nice.

all sorts of balls

after a very long day at work, coworker and i went to japantown for dinner.


helpful origami wayfinders


denny's

we did not eat at the japantown denny's, though according to my coworker (and this) they have a special asian influenced menu. we had ramen and these creamy octopus ball things whose names i cannot remember at popo-something. popo-something is not the actual name of the restaurant. i cannot remember that either. in fact, i'm not really remembering much of anything. i think this is because i was scared by a tanuki that was lurking in a shop window.


check out that scrotum

tanukis are sort of a god. a mythical creature that loves sake and never pays its bills. i know about tanukis because i read tom robbin's villa incognito a few years ago in which a tanuki parachutes to earth, i believe, using his excessive scrotal skin. this tanuki, however, seemed a little less flexible. i sometimes wish i were a tanuki, but then i think i really don't want those balls. i'd be afraid that i'd snag them on something and there wouldn't be enough sake in the world to dull the pain.

pressure systems

Apparently some sort of cold front or whatever just blew in. And when I say "just," I mean that literally. Because while walking back from the salon (during the work day-- oh yes, this is how I roll) the cold front hit my umbrella which in turn, whapped me in the head. And yes, it hurt. It hurt a lot. In fact, it still hurts. Stupid weather. I want my blue sky back.

today is the greatest

today, for the first time in 17 years, we had (and as far as I know, continue to have) a blue sky.

not the sun strained through gray clouds.

not just gray clouds.

not rain.

not mist.

blue, beautiful, wonderful sky.

urban cowboy, revisited

How do you make an urban cowboy? The recipe is simple:

2 shiny, pointy, black boots
1 pair dark skinny jeans
1 camel color wool coat, knee length
1 sharp black shirt, collar starched straight up
1 pair big black wrap-around sunglasses
1 nearly luminous black bag of the doctor house call style
dash hair product (pomade) for sculpting short hair
touch of menace

apply above to a gaunt-faced Hugo Weaving type and insert into Crate and Barrel for 1 hour. air dry.

i love my walk home

when I lived in LA my walk home was from the carport to the front door. barely enough time to sling my bag over my shoulder. now my walk takes about 20 minutes, not only enough time to sling my bag over my shoulder, but enough time to take a few deep breaths and actually relax a little. it is down one of those typical San Francisco streets, a mish-mash of old victorians and mid-century homes in varying stages of upkeep and remodel with well trimmed trees and short driveways leading to impossibly small garages. the street is nothing special. quiet. suburban. no major sights, no major landmarks, just nice. the sort of street you want to walk down on sunny mornings and rainy afternoons.


row of cute little million dollar homes


great veiw of bernal heights


around the corner


and down the hill