unrepeatable's san francisco review

official

2006-11-06T18:31:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, on my way into the office, I'm stopping off at my polling place and casting my vote. It makes me feel extraordinarily official. Like I live here and stuff. Also I'm a total nerd for voting, so I'm all a-twitter on the inside.

Today there was an incident with the 24. Apparently a garbage truck was double parked and when the giant electric bus tried to go around it, the bus came off the overhead cables. Long story short, the bus couldn't get reconnected, so there was no power so the driver put the block under the wheel- off-boarded everyone and sat back to wait for help. Well, while waiting for help the bus lost it's block and slid down the very steep hill. I've ridden the bus up and down those hills- they scare me when the power is on. 8 cars and an apartment building where hit. MUNI service was only "slightly" delayed. And I have to say it all just makes me love the SF even more.

Dahling, I've missed you

2006-09-20T16:25:00.000-07:00

It has been a while, I know. I've been neglecting my documentation of explorations. It isn't that I haven't been going to new places and trying new things, it is just that I haven't been writing about them. Sometimes that happens.

But here I am now. It is almost fall. I've lived in The City for more than 7 months now. I know where things are. I can make recommendations. I can look things up. Home feels a bit more like home and even though I miss my old friends and my old life in LA, I'm really not regretting this move. SF is just more me. Now, if I could only convince everyone else to move here.

Seriously. Move here.

the wrong shoes

2006-07-08T14:48:00.000-07:00

i put on shoes fully expecting that at some point during the day i would be relaxing in a spa chair having a pedicure. this did not happen. instead i ended up hiking around land's end in platform sandals. no, not my brightest move, but i was expecting a spa chair.

it was unusually clear out, the fog was but a fine misting and instead of obstructing the view, gave everything a sort of pre-sunset glow. i started at the golden gate bridge, then moved on to land's end park.

i'd heard that sutro baths were really cool to explore- of course i forgot that i was wearing the wrong shoes until i started down the hill. why am i moving so slowly? oh, yeah, i don't want to fall and die. so i didn't get much exploring in, but i did get an amazing sunset.

i can't wait to go back and really explore- with the right shoes, of course. who knows, maybe i'll even go fishing.

happy birthday america

2006-07-04T20:58:00.001-07:00

i fully expected to spend the entirety of today recovering from a hangover. unfortunately, my liver ate it's wheaties and i woke up feeling pretty ok. so time for plan b- check the internet. luckily yelp had a thread about free museums- the de young and the legion of honor to be specific. i'd been to the legion, so i packed my bags and headed to golden gate park and the copper twisted monolith that is the de young.

i really liked the de young. it is a beautiful building, with little gardens and courtyards in odd places. the art ranged from early american to african to more contemporary collections- which i liked. it lacks the stuffiness of the legion.

for instance, here is some sort of mayan thing from guatemala. if i had bothered to read the sign, i could tell you what it is, but i couldn't be bothered (had to save my reading for the next trip)

here is a more modern piece from mexico. thought it was purty.

this was purty too. i think it was a boat.

this, though, was one of my favorite pieces. it is called "anti-mass" and it is made from the charred remains of a church.

the outer skin of the de young is made from copper, so with time it will turn green and "blend" into the scenery. i'm looking forward to watching the evolution.

in search of... Lunch

2006-07-02T22:38:00.000-07:00

I tried so hard to have a nice lunch today. I wanted to try this bbq place out in NOPA that I'd heard good things about. so after I left the office, I hopped on the 38 where I was crammed next to a woman wearing her own urine like it was channel no 5 and lurched down geary to divisadero. I then walked several blocks in the 58 degree gloom only to find that the light at the end of my tunnel, the bbq mecca I sought, was closed. as in not open. as in I just spent twenty minutes actively not throwing up to get to a bbq place that was closed.

ok. regroup.

the 24 was trugging down the hill, so I jumped on- worst case, I'd just take it home. best case, I'd get off at market and try los flamingos- a mexi/cuban place I'd also heard great things about it. so I got off and started looking for los flamingos. I found an amazingly quaint little 'hood right in the middle of all sorts of less than quaint 'hoods. treelined streets and adorable homes and storefronts. I was in the duboce triangle. I had died and gone to gay heaven and it was fabulous. unfortunately, los flamingos was also closed. what the fuck? I guess it was later than I thought.

well fine. I was out of options. I was also out of blood sugar which meant I was no longer capable of making decisions. so I just kept walking until I hit the tracks of the N. I got on. I got off at 9th and irving, thinking that here would be a myriad of lunch places and I'd just pick one and eat and go about my day. but with the draining of my blood sugar, my resolve was also gone. eating alone is not something I am good at, so trying to find a place that was both interesting and not intimidating was difficult. eventually I settled on a peasant pie at peasant pies. it wasn't bbq, but it was warm. and after wandering all over the city and freezing my ass off, I needed something warm.

next time, i'll check the hours...

july 1

2006-07-01T21:10:00.000-07:00

growing up in florida, a july night meant sweltering heat and mosquito bites. you were going to get hot and sticky- and not in the good way. you were going to be uncomfortable. the best thing you could do is stay very, very still and hope for a breeze.

tonight, july 1, i saw a woman in a coat and a scarf.

and i wished i had her scarf.

pot melted

2006-07-01T19:36:00.000-07:00

walking through the mission i spied, with my little eye, a mariachi in full regalia, guitar slung over his shoulder, enjoying a waffle cone filled with delicious indian ice cream.

destination MUNI

2006-06-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

i decided to head out to the embarcadero this evening. i decided a movie would be a good idea. a movie and a MUNI. the more i take MUNI, the more it seems like a destination in and of itself. i could have easily hopped on the BART and been there in 20 minutes, but the MUNI was so much more fun. the extra stopping allows an influx of more colorful characters and the fact that most of my ride on the J-Church is above ground lends itself to excellent people watching both inside and outside the train.

there was a father and the two children he barely had control over. he was trying diligently to make them sit still enough to snap their picture. they must have been about 3 and 5 or so. little, but old enough to get into things with the deliberateness of a more developed mind. i don't know if he got the picture, but if he did it would be the sort you treasure.

as we passed dolores park, there was a young goth couple clinging to each other as if letting go meant losing their whole world. they were sitting intertwined on the grassy hillside next to a stately older couple. though the older couple were not physically touching, you could still feel the intimacy of all their years together as they sat and watched the sun play against the downtown skyline.

i got off the train at the embarcadero station and walked through the empty streets of the FIDI, looking for an open coffee shop. standing on a corner, waiting for the light, a blind man approached me and asked for the location of a building i'd never heard of. i told him i didn't know where that was and he thanked me. the stop-hand turned to the go-man and i stepped of the curb. the blind man followed and walked across the street and up onto the sidewalk on the other side with more confidence than i have ever had do anything in my life.

i eventually found a latte and settled into the theatre and waited for the movie to start. a few rows down two couples were talking to each other. the female in the hetero couple kept a hand on her date's back the whole time. nonchalantly possessive.

after the movie i walked back through the empty embarcadero center. the city at night is so beautiful.

review reviews

2006-06-25T16:24:00.000-07:00

i love yelp. mostly because of the cool maps. i like looking things up and seeing where they are and then dragging the map around and finding new places. it is becoming an obsession.

patios and ddr

2006-06-17T23:46:00.000-07:00

After my 700th outfit change, I finally made it out of the house and into the waiting car of some friends. We were on our way to the El Rio for an afternoon of bands and cocktails. I was especially looking forward to the cocktails.

Turns out the bands weren't half bad either-- mellow and not too intense, perfect for a sunny patio garden in the middle of the afternoon. The crowd seemed to be mostly friends and family of the bands, which was nice. Especially, I'm sure, for the bands. The drinks were a bit weak, and the wooden stools were unsitable, but all in all, I dug the El Rio.

There was one thing the patio was missing- a grill. Well, there was a grill, but no one was cooking anything on it, so we decided to head out for hamburgers and a movie. Where could we get both? Why the Century 20 in Daly City. Which is next to the Fuddruckers, home of the world's greatest hamburgers (I had the chicken sandwich). We had a lot of time to kill before the movie started, so we went over to the video games where my arm was o-so twisted into getting up on the Dance Dance Revolution.

I am not good at this game. I think the little guy is doing what I am doing, but he isn't. He is doing his own thing. He is doing what I am supposed to be doing. I am not doing what I am supposed to be doing, I am falling over and using the wrong foot and going backwards. But that doesn't stop it from being fun.

(not my feet, btw)

It was a good day. A bizarre mix of genres, sure, but a good day.

blinded by science

2006-06-16T23:13:00.000-07:00

A friend and I decided to attend the California Academy of Science's Third Thursday event this past third Thursday.

It was pretty good times. There was a steel drum band and a cash bar and penguins. What's not to love?
We looked at ants through magnifying glasses (though none were set on fire).
We checked out the dark and sparkley piranhas. I was hoping they'd drop in a cow so we could watch the piranhas eviscerate it, but no such luck. My favorite part was the penguin pen. They basically stood there and mocked us. Don't think I don't know what you are thinking, penguin.
We even got to view a turtle orgy. Turtles are like rabbits, but reptilian.

The piranhas were nothing compared to the interactive displays. That arrow totally had it out for me. Stupid arrow.

are we not men?

2006-06-03T00:34:00.000-07:00

While having coffee in the Macy's Union Square store, we happened to notice Devo go by in a firetruck.

SF thru the bottom of a bottle

2006-05-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

I am normally a very sober person.

Meaning that I am usually sober.

Friday, however, I was not.

It all started innocently enough at Zeitgeist, a biker bar on Valencia. It was a half day at work, and a beautiful half day at that-- perfect for celebrating a coworker's goodbye. We sat under the shady trees in the backyard patio, with a pink lemonade in one hand and a delicious freshly grilled cheeseburger in the other. We talked about work, we talked about rabbits, we talked about how fantastic these pink lemonades were. Who knew a vat of vodka could taste so good?

As we enjoyed our drinks, the weaker members of the group weeded themselves out. Back to the suburbs, or on to places that were more "their scene." The backyard began filling up with others and though our drinks had numbed our bums, the wood benches were getting kinda old. Those of us remaining decided that a change in venue would be a good idea... in fact, karaoke would be an excellent idea... So we hiked up our skirts and headed down Duboce to Market and a bar called The Mint.

It was early enough that we weren't going to hit the happy hour crowd, we didn't really want to deal with anything too terribly serious, and The Mint has a bit of a rep about it's seriousness. The Mint also has a rep for weak drinks, so upon tasting the vodka cran, heavy on the cran, we ordered our vodka straight. This may or may not have been the best idea in the history of ideas as this is when my memory starts to get a little sketchy. There was singing, as required by the karaoke aspect of the karaoke bar, there was much laughter, there was merriment. Things were fabulous. Everyone was having a good time. Everyone was all smiles. At one point we went outside and suddenly, as if by magic, the streets filled with cyclists. The world was a wonderful and crazy place filled with vodka and bicycles.

At some point we decided to move our party. I'm not sure why. It may or may not have been due to embarrassing antics on the karaoke stage. It may or may not have been due to someone falling on the ground. It may or may not have been due to the slow but steady fill up of other much less silly and fun patrons. It may have been due to the stories of a very attractive bartender down the street. I do not believe we were kicked out, I am fairly certain this was choice we made.

We floated in on giggles-- we materialized at Lucky 13. I do not remember the walk down Market St, I only remember stopping for laughter breaks. I am pretty sure that had there been a police presence, we would have been arrested. This is not my MO. This is not how I roll. But I was intoxicated, a.k.a. d-r-u-n-k-drunk drunk. Lucky 13 is a blur in my memory. I'm not sure if I can show my face there again. As far as I know I can. It seemed like a cool place, except that I had to hold the bathroom stall shut. There might have been a lock, but I couldn't find it.

We were there for a while before we realized we are hungry again. We headed out for pizza around the corner. Pizza is a magical food. It comforts you. It fills you up when you are empty. And this pizza was The Best Pizza I Have Ever Had. I am probably just saying that because I was drunk and anything would have been the Best Anything I Ever Had, but this pizza was seriously the best pizza ever.

Things were still kicking though, so we decided that we needed to do yet more karaoke. On to Encore in Nob Hill. We had to flag down a cab- which was not difficult. But a bevy of whores did steal our first one. I'm fairly certain they rigged the MUNI elevator to magically appear behind us, which was quite distracting as we were not expecting an elevator to suddenly appear behind us. They then hopped in our cab and drove off into the sunset.

But I'm not holding a grudge. Saying goodbye to someone you enjoy spending your days with is hard. Luckily we had alcohol to soothe our pain. And we were in The City, where you can just let go because you don't have to drive home, you can walk around the corner for pizza and more karaoke, and you can hail a cab on the street (as can whores).

I just wish I knew what happened to my watch.

nothing but flowers

2006-05-22T20:58:00.000-07:00

Spring is shaping up to be a wonderful season in San Francisco. Leave work a little on the late side, climb up the hill in the cool sunshine to an empty vietnamese restaurant overlooking Portsmouth Square. Watch the kids play and eat tasty bun with lemon grass chicken. Talk about plans or lack thereof. Walk home in the gloaming with the Talking Heads easing the climb up up up to the tippy top of the hill. Breathe in the air and relax on the way down down down into the comfort of my comfy chair in the big picture window and a good book. Today, I love the Spring.

smack

2006-05-20T23:39:00.000-07:00

I grew up in the suburbs. Strip malls and shopping centers. Parking lots. Planned developments. Your basic nightmare. After I left the suburbs I moved to LA. Which, if you think about it, is really just the suburbs. Overgrown and sprawling. I wanted to get away from this, away from needing a car, away from driving from store to store. Away from strip malls and shopping centers and parking lots.

So I moved to San Francisco. Gave up the car and got a bus pass. Started wandering the streets and avoiding anything that called itself a megaplex. But sometimes, sometimes, I miss the suburbs. I miss the strip malls and shopping centers and parking lots. So I reserve a zipcar and head out of the city, to the asphalt wonderland of chainstores. I need a fix. A hit. Just a little one, to take the edge off. Maybe a new kitchen utensil- something in a moka. Is it over priced and unnecessary? Sold! And I need baskets. No, I don't know why. And I don't think I need to justify myself to you. I just need baskets. And this book. Just the moka, the baskets, and this book. That's all. I think.

And now that I've had my fix I can go back to avoiding megaplexes and chainstores and trying to seem hipper than I am. I should probably start by not using the word "hipper."

chasing the sunshine

2006-05-15T21:10:00.000-07:00

After spending my day chained to a desk, I was eager to get outside and into the sunshine. I took the long way to the BART, soaking in every possible ray of sunshine before disappearing underground for my short trip home. I was looking forward to my walk on the otherside-- fresh air and sunshine. But I live in San Francisco, and on the other side of my BART ride was a gray sky and swirling fog. Had I missed the sun? Blown my chance? I started up the hill and out of the fog's languid grip. The sun was shining just at the top, a glorious reward, so I pushed forward out of the fog and into the sunshine. I reached the top and looked down into my little valley drenched in sunlight. The fog swirled and danced at the edges, creeping over the hills and sneaking into the corners of the sunlit lowland. And like a giddy girl in the first sweet stages of romance, I fell in love all over again with my beautiful city.

lincoln park

2006-05-13T21:29:00.000-07:00

Why would they go an spoil a such a lovely park by putting a giant golf course smack dab in the middle of it?

(and yes, that is the ocean behind the trees)

the legion of honor

2006-05-13T19:57:00.000-07:00

Today I went to The Legion of Honor. It is a lovely, if slightly boring, museum. It houses The Thinker and one of Monet's Waterlillies and the greatest picture of all time:

I soooo want that for my bathroom.

Gai Lan or Kai-lan, as the case may be

2006-05-12T20:22:00.000-07:00

I love chinese broccoli.

It is delicious and nutritious.

More people should eat it.

To encourage this, I would like to let several of the local thai restaurants to know that chinese broccoli

and broccoli,

while similar, are not the same thing.

At all.

Damn it.

rush hour

2006-05-11T15:08:00.000-07:00

You know those horror movies where the hero, feeling safe, peaks out of his window into the night only to see the ghostly silhouettes of thousands of undead licking the glass? Yeah, that was my BART ride this morning.

Stuck. Delays. 10 minutes.

Ok, 15 minutes.

Ok, they can't move the train. They are going to push it. 15 more minutes.

Ok, we are going to the platform. We are going to hold at the platform. 15 minutes.

So we slowly pull in, push past the hordes, the throngs of featureless faces. We stop, and they gather to the doors. We pull forward and they shuffle alongside, a horrible lifeless mass twitching toward the doors.

Maybe the doors won't open. There is a pause, a long, hopefilled pause broken by the hiss of air as the door opens and suddenly every available cubic centimeter is filled with flesh.

The announcer comes on: We are not moving. We are delayed. We will move later. And no one gets off the train. Everyone just squeezes in tighter and tighter.

I couldn't take it-- I had to fight my way off the train and up to the surface were a drunk man tried to hand me a flyer and then yelled at me for not taking it. Then walk up a big hill in my work clothes. Then get on the J-Church, which was also packed with terrestrial zombies, but at least it moved.

scary effing monkey

2006-05-08T22:35:00.000-07:00

What is with the absurd number of cast iron statuary stores in Union Square? Who buys this crap? Seriously?

the saddest thing i ever heard

2006-05-07T21:11:00.000-07:00

you know that global warming, man? those polar bears up in the north south poles?

yeah, they don't exist anymore.

they don't exist because it is too hot to find a polar mate.

in search of... Buffalo

2006-05-07T14:53:00.000-07:00

In seeking the ever elusive American Bison, aka The Buffalo, I decided to avoid the obvious places one goes to find buffalo. I wanted to find a more natural and relaxed buffalo, one that didn't feel he had to put on a show. So I started my search where I start almost every search, a local coffee house. Today's selection was Luv-a-Java on Dolores and 26th. Where my latte was decidedly free of buffalo.

Which was, in retrospect, probably a good thing. Sure, it would have fulfilled my buffalo sighting requirement, but it also would have been rather messy and unsanitary. Not to mention it would have severely interfered with my latte enjoyment.

Latte enjoyed, I decided to wander up Church St to see if there were any buffalo up there.

There weren't. I thought about trying Dolores Park. On passing I noticed no Buffalo, but lots of standard poodles. This was not a surprise, as buffalo and standard poodles are natural enemies. I needed to find a place with fewer poodles. So I hopped on the MUNI.

Which was also decidely free of buffalo (probably due to the MUNI police asking for passes and transfers) and headed to the inner sunset.

Also buffalo free. So I decided to try Golden Gate Park.

There was a Polish festival going on, perhaps this would attract the Buffalo. The flyer was certainly inviting...

Well, Maybe not. I think buffalo in general want to avoid sausage. Mmmmmm, buffalo sausage. Ok, maybe up by the museum?

Not Buffalo. But SO cute!! But not enough cute to fend off my growing frustration. Then I came across a lovely waterfall and stream.

A water source! Surely this would lead me to the buffalo!

But it only led me to some ducks. Which, if you are keeping track, are not buffalo.

And from there to the SF Model Yacht Club. Great, any buffalo here were certainly not going to be full size. I was about to give up. I was getting tired-- my latte was wearing off and I was getting some sort of blister. This was all crap. But then, in the distance...

Was it? Could it be?

Buffalo!

Buffalo in a pen. In a big pen. Fenced in pen of buffalo. Well. OK. Maybe a bit anticlimactic. Next time I go looking for buffalo in the wild, I will certainly check my map first as apparently they are all just penned in. Stupid buffalo.

literate

2006-05-06T10:56:00.001-07:00

I keep calling Divisadero Diversadero. Which is not what it is at all.

NOPA? are you kidding me?

2006-05-06T09:23:00.000-07:00

I actually ran to catch a bus last night. Ran. Into traffic and everything. Well, not really into traffic (wasn't that drunk) but I certainly jay-ran, and I swore I'd never run to catch a bus. But these are the things one does in NOPA.

I met a friend for coffee and we ended up meeting another one of his friends for dinner. We started in the embarcadero, wandered up through the financial district to catch the 1, then transferred at Divisadero to the 24, and ended up somewhere. I was totally lost, but I was enjoying the ride. We had dinner at the blue jay cafe, which is a San Franciscan stab at southern cooking. It was certainly a good effort, and they even had very tasty okra, but it wasn't exactly what I'd call great southern food. At dinner the friend of a friend informed me we were in NOPA. Which is the Western Addition, but not the Western Addition because the Western Addition is where you get shot, so it is NOPA. Not really quite the Panhandle, not really USF, not really anything, so they call it NOPA. Some think the name is lame, others hilarious, and still others deny its existence and call it the Western Addition, but it is or is not NOPA. A sort of void in geographical assignment.

From the restaurant we walked down Divisadero to some bar, whose name I don't remember and whose cross street I don't remember. I wasn't paying attention, and I should pay attention probably when going places, but I often don't. I knew I was still on Divisadero and I knew I could catch the 24 home, any more detail than that and I'd be worrying about things, and I refuse to worry about things when I am out with the guys. The bar was pretty cool. There was a cover, not cool, but the inside was not unaccommodating. Not really enough seats (I'm sure bars do this for a reason, but I'm not a bar person, I'm more of a pub person, so I do not understand the stand there with your drink thing, maybe it was so you looked at the art, maybe it was so you had to rub up against everyone on your way to the WC) but we were early enough to snag a couple of chairs and I settled in for some vodka and boy talk (you know, video games) and watched the evening unfold around me.

The people in the bar were an interesting mix. Not marina yuppie types and not mission hipster types, but a sort of middle ground. Like the fully formed adult children of an illicit marina/mission love affair. Yeah, there were lots of the well groomed (and by well groomed I do not mean unscruffy, I just mean put-together) and then there were a few skanks (though not many, only 2 by my count, and I think I might have been one of their birthday's or maybe just cinco de mayo, but really they needed to wear a tank under that shrug) there but enough of them weren't so well groomed that it made me feel like I needed to change my clothes or leave through the bathroom window. It was an ok scene. A bit too bar for me, but I was with good people so it wasn't overwhelming.

The drinks were fine, but I was way more interested in the neighborhood. Walking down Divisadero, we passed a lot of seemingly cool restaurants and cafes and whatnot, and the mix of types was fantastic-- from a mom and pop bbq place to a chi-chi hookah bar to schmancy sushi. It was eclectic without being pretentious. The neighborhood had a very interesting vibe- old and settled combined with young and in transit. Not the same kinda young you find in the mission (which is young and in anguish for their art), but a sort of post-college (but not too close to right at post college) kinda vibe. That mix of people who are all young and struggling and haven't segregated themselves into their little enclaves yet, where everything and everyone still mixes while they try to figure out what they are doing and where they are going. Before they have that fight and never talk again, or that kid and are never seen from again. Of course, that might be the vodka talking, but I liked NOPA. It was sort of a comfortable place.

shiny shoes

2006-05-05T09:46:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to target. I needed some lotion and some deodorant and apparently a pair of shiny silver shoes.

These shoes are fantastic and look soooooo good with my jeans. I'm in love with the way the silver toe peeps out from under the dark denim cuff. Like a geode. Or perhaps fancy shoes with jeans. If it was legal to marry my own feet, today I would. Granted, it would be a rather loveless marriage as I am not that flexible and my toes don't really seem to like me, but I would get through it with the help of my gorgeous silver shiny shoes.

the miser

2006-05-04T14:11:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty darn excited. turns out the Berkeley Repertory Theatre has discount tickets for those of us still clutching onto (with both hands) our under 30 status. sure, I should pay full price and give back and whatnot, but if I can get half off, I'm gonna take.

plus, I hear rita moreno is amazing in the glass menagerie and who doesn't love half price amazing?

the horror, the horror

2006-04-30T21:55:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-27T21:28:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-26T22:57:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-25T23:03:00.000-07:00

tonight we were upgraded to real cups.

public affection

2006-04-25T19:30:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T19:39:00.000-07:00

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 So ciety 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

2006-04-20T22:15:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-19T21:53:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-18T05:36:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-16T18:44:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-15T00:01:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-14T13:53:00.000-07:00

today i saw a panhandler with an actual pan.

moment, fleeting

2006-04-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-12T20:17:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-08T01:18:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-07T16:46:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-05T15:32:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-03T16:20:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-02T20:04:00.000-07:00

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

mellow bello

2006-04-02T17:08:00.000-07:00

being new in town I don't have a coffee place to really call my own. yet. I'm currently looking. there are a few places around that'll do in a pinch, but I want one I can call home. luckily this is the sort of search that I like doing. today, I decided to try the illustrious cafe bello, a place I pass on my daily walk(s) to and/or from the BART. usually closed on my way home, I hadn't gotten the chance to sample their wares. but the delightful colors and the delicious pictures of "latte art" in the windows had me very very interested.

I was a bit concerned, as I left home, that cafe bello would be packed. it was sunday at about 11am, prime brunch time. but luckily cafe bello, while not empty, was no where near packed. it might even be said that cafe bello was quite mellow. the tables were occupied, but there was plenty of seating at their long u-shaped counter. I set up camp in the bottom of the U, where I could nurse my latte and look out the big window onto the street. not much was going on. it was raining, the only people on the street were those walking dogs or children.

is that a thistle?

the clientele ranged from young marrieds to old marrieds to singles of varying persuasions, some with laptops, some with papers, but nobody seemed there to be part of a scene. nobody looked like they had dressed for the occasion. they were just there for a cup of coffee. not to be seen, not to show off, not to pick anybody up, just to have a cup of coffee.

mellow bello

the latte was passable. I wouldn't kick it out of bed. mostly because it would spill on the sheets (why would you have a latte in bed? that seems counterproductive). but the best thing about cafe bello was its simple, unpretentious atmosphere. it is the sort of place you could sit for hours. better than that, it is the sort of place you would want to sit for hours. it's the sort of place you might even want to call home.

pursuit of happiness

2006-03-26T19:20:00.000-08:00

the trouble with being new and relatively alone in the city is that you are often left to your own devices. now some would view this as the opportunity of a lifetime. a chance to look inward and get in touch with themselves without anyone or anything to hamper their personal growth. a chance to ask themselves what do you really want to do? and actually do it. to seek out what makes them happy, to pursue bliss. join a club. go to concerts. read books. hike. what do i want to do today? would be a question that brings a smile to their faces, a swagger to their step. they leap out of bed singing their song of What Do I Want To Do TODAY?! filled with possibilities and mad fiddlers. a few pirouettes and (hopefully) a shower later they'd be out the door and skipping down the street all too eager to great The Best Day Yet.

i, however, am not one of those people.

my morning song is not one of joy so much. if it is at all jaunty, it is only because the casio keyboard in my head is stuck on samba. my song mostly just urges me to go to bathroom. it does not ring forth the possibilities of the day, it does make me wish i could unplug that damn mind-casio. stop the samba. please. stop it. i can't figure out what makes me happy, what my bliss is, with that damn synthesized crap going around and around and around in my skull. it is mind numbing. it it any wonder i have no idea what to do with my day?

so i stumble out of the house (7 hours later) fueled by the guilt of missing out on one of those gorgeous days where the houses sparkle on the hillsides and the breeze rustles through the trees and the sun is warm on your face, still not sure of what will make me happy, what will bring me bliss. i don't know. i don't know. i don't even know where to start looking. and then my wandering takes me by a coffee shop, and suddenly i remember what my bliss is and will always be. good thing i live in a city where espresso flows like water.

city hall sake

2006-03-26T11:29:00.000-08:00

friday night my coworker invited me to tag along to Mayor Newsom's Celebration of the 100th Anniversary of Japantown and the 39th annual Northern California Cherry Blossom Festival, which was at city hall. being a sucker for all things cultural and free, i accepted the invitation. i hadn't been to city hall (i lived in LA for 5 years and never went to city hall there, in fact, i don't think i've ever been to any city's hall...) so i was excited to not only get my japanese culture on, but some SF sightseeing in too.

the reception was in the rotunda. which is quite lovely. even in computer. there were many boring speaches from those in charge and those affiliated with those in charge. but the host was missing, newsom couldn't attend his very own celebration so he video taped a message for the masses. it's almost like being there.

inbetween the speeches where performances by the most adorable school children you could possibly imagine (tiny kimonos and thick glasses with pigtails, boys in short pants with bowl cuts-- i died from cuteness), the most stoic of dancers, and the winner of all popularity contests, the SF Taiko Dojo. taiko drums are always a crowd pleaser, but especially so when followed by free sake and the ceremonial breaking of the sake cask.

after the sake (which was oh-so-yummy. go takara sake) we went into the light court where they served us yummy bento boxes filled with delicious japanese food stuffs like sushi and gyoza. coworker and i were high on japanese culture (and still hungry) so we decided what better way to cap off the evening than to go to japantown for dinner. we wandered the halls of the kintetsu mall looking for something to strike our fancy. we found it. but i think the sake hit me a bit harder than i realized as i have no recollection of the name. but the spicy tuna hand rolls were heaven wrapped in seaweed.

and of course all this would be much more interesting with pictures, but i left my camera at work.

nice buns

2006-03-25T20:50:00.000-08:00

this morning i decided to venture up the hill to a coffee shop i'd heard good things about. as i turned out of my building, i heard the strained conversation of two joggers behind me. i moved left to get out of their way and they ran past discussing some unfortunate office incident. this would be a wholly unremarkable experience except that they were both jogging with bread. one had two loaves of wheat. the other, two packages of english muffins.

this picture has nothing to do with the joggers. but isn't my neighborhood lovely? minus the power lines, of course...

old meets new

2006-03-22T15:48:00.000-08:00

as i've been trapped in my cage (aka at work) and not been able to go out and gather any interesting san francisco stories for you all, i will refer you to this. you can pretend it happened to me and did not at all come from some stranger via sfist.com.

paparazzi

2006-03-18T22:46:00.000-08:00

one of the many things i miss about LA are the vast number of celebrity sightings i had. sure, "philip seymour hoffman" totally rides my muni and "samuel l jackson" ordered coffee ahead of me the other day at madeline's, but no actual real celebs. or so i thought. turns out san francisco is a very small town, wander the streets enough and you are bound to run into a somebody sometime.

for example, the other day at nordstrom i saw the san francisco twins. this was very exciting as i had only seen pictures and never believed i would really get to see them in the wild.

then today i got a twofer. first, frank chu at, where else, but the anti-war protest.

and second, the ever effervescent jamie hyneman who was not at the protest (to my knowledge), but was wearing his beret and puffy jacket as he made what i assume to be a large withdrawal at that wells fargo atm on 24th street.

hot

2006-03-17T10:45:00.000-08:00

oh, man, are you hot. with your fleece and your cords and your o-so-sporty sunglasses in the dark subway. with your hair just so and your shoes just right. hot. just look at you, hanging from the overhead handrail like the coolest monkey on the muni. hot. there is no other word. just... hot.

oh, and your fly is down.

sweet dreams are made of this

2006-03-08T22:43:00.000-08:00

instead of going to the bathroom to brush my teeth i remained in my chair and started thinking about how all the buildings are connected here and how you could go from one to the next to the next and that someone down the street could climb on their roof, scramble over a few others and end up outside my window. if they just stood outside the window, and i happened to open the blinds for some reason, i would stare right into their crazy yellowed bloodshot wall-eyes. it would be creepy. i'd probably scream. or, more likely, do one of those silent back away things, letting the blinds clank closed as i stumble slowly backwards, gasping for words. but then, as the oxygen returned to my brain, i'd wonder if i'd scared him off or not. because i don't hear anything and i should have heard him scamper away, but i hear nothing. and who knows, maybe it was just my imagination anyway, right? maybe there was no one outside my window at all. so i'd have open the blinds again to check and of course he's still be standing there and for some reason lightening would strike at that moment. and i'm not sure what would happen next because if this was a movie, they would cut away to the teenagers having sex down by the lake.

zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay

2006-02-26T20:41:00.000-08:00

so today i joined zip car.

mostly because i want to go to ikea and buy a big bunch of switches.

not the light kind. the kind your momma whupped you with.

babies don't let your parents grow up to be cowboys

2006-02-26T10:40:00.000-08:00

maybe it is just noe valley, but these san francisco parents are pissing me off. they have this look on their faces-- this smug, self-satisfied look. like they are so proud of themselves that they a) reproduced and b) stayed in the city. they bug me. they really do. i mean, i think it is great you are in the city and haven't fled in a panic to the east bay, but do you have to think it is so great? and do you have to think that i must think it is so great? and what is with your outfit? i get it, you are a cool parent with all the hip gear, but would it kill you to not look so goddamn planned? with you shoes and your sweater and your hair and whatnot. just stop. and don't think i'm talking about just moms here, dads are just as bad-- if not worse. they have less of the "look what my loins have wrought" look, but more of the "i'm so a dad in the city" look. i don't know which is worse. agre. stop looking so goddamn serene and content. yes, you are spectacular, yes your stupid drooling idiot progeny is technically "cute" what with the big eye to face ratio, but could you maybe just look a little less relaxed about it? look a little like maybe it is difficult and stressful and hard? because this granola stepford baby thing is making me worry that in the future our nation will be led by these fucked up children of the corn. only not the actual corn so much and the metaphorical corn. because as far as i can tell, there is no actual corn here.

noma

2006-02-23T18:37:00.000-08:00

so i did not make it to the moma.

but i did take a bus.

and it was not bad. granted, i went about a mile, but still: i was on the bus.

and the bus actually felt kinda comfortable because it rekindled my deep seated hatred of tourists. and nothing makes me feel more at home than when i'm hating tourists. especially the aging frat boy types that are on their way back from the anchor steam plant at rush hour who think it is hilarious to berate public transportation loudly in a packed bus because they are assholes who think no one on the bus speaks english or has ears. then, as they try to exit at the BART station pushing past everyone else who is also trying to get off, think yelling "andele" makes them even more hilarious.

but i will make it to the moma. it's not going anywhere.

cafe terrace at night

2006-02-21T22:33:00.000-08:00

this past weekend i did nothing. well, i went to the mall. yes, in my new cosmopolitan world i chose the most uncosmopolitan avenue of exploration. baby steps. after the mall, i took the long way home through... um, i'm not sure. i think west portal or st. francis wood. it was ridiculously cute, where ever it was. this weekend i think, if the weather agrees, i will hit cole valley. and maybe the haight. but also maybe not. i'm just going to take the J and see where i end up. if i go to carl and cole, i should be able to go to both the haight and cole valley. i think. unless i have the map wrong in my head. which is entirely possible as my photographic memory is not so much a photographer as an impressionist. or perhaps a post-impressionist. i just hope it does not try to cut off my ear.

mo' moma

2006-02-21T11:35:00.000-08:00

so apparently the SFMOMA is half price thursdays after 6 (open until 9).

so i am totally going thursday.

and it is only 3 blocks from work, if that. meaning i don't have to take a bus or stray from the familiar.

and museums are totally cool places to go by yourself. maybe it will even make me look smart, like: oooh. that chick is totally looking at art all on her own. she must be an intellectual.

or not. but at least it is something to do!

comfortable shoes

2006-02-18T17:28:00.000-08:00

i need more comfortable shoes. for walking. in case the bus does not stop. have i mentioned that i am terrified of buses? i am afraid they will not show. i am afraid they will not stop. i am afraid that i will be on the wrong bus and i will end up in the wrong place and then i will have to get off the bus and i will not be able to get back home. i'll be stuck in the middle of nowhere, not sure where i am, not sure how to get back out. and then my choice will be either stay there and wait for another bus that either won't show or won't stop or start walking and hope i do not get attacked by one of those extra torturey serial killers. and that is why i need more comfortable shoes. and also why it is a good thing that san francisco is only 7 miles across.

SF is my Valentine

2006-02-14T20:26:00.000-08:00

arge. valentine's day.

the corner flower stalls were all overflowing with gorgeous roses and iris and lillies and daisies and roses. there were hordes of people on the streets and in the subway holding their beautiful bouquets and their beautiful arrangements of flowers and flowers and flowers. i left work early, so i thought i'd take the muni (above ground on the way home- you know, to get some sunshine) but the j was packed with people and their flowers and there was some sort of switching problem, so i decided to not become part of the problem and take the bart. which was not unbearably stuffed with human cargo and all of their flowers.

i got off at 24th and mission and as i escalated from the dim florescence of the station, i was greeted with yet more flowers and an arctic windstorm. i climbed the hill toward church and noticed the stores were dim and the street lights were out. the wind must have blown something over or up. maybe this was the cause of that switching problem they were talking about at the station. transit people were directing traffic and the cold wind was absolutely piercing. i made it to the muni stop and waited, trying to stay upright in the wind. but the j wasn't coming, or maybe it just wasn't coming fast enough. waiting for it seemed sillier and sillier as i stood there in the bright, cold afternoon with 24th street to my left, beckoning me with shops and shops and shops i'd never even looked at.

so, despite the wind and the biting cold, i wandered down the street to look in the windows at all the fantastic wares and thumb through the used book racks. and as i did, i realized that i was being ridiculous. why be in a bad mood? because it is valentine's day? ridiculous. i wasn't alone and i wasn't unloved. i had a date. san francisco. san francisco was trying to take me out. san francisco had replaced the bart's stale dank funk with vivid color and soft fragrance. san francisco placed flowers at every turn, packed and delayed the muni knowing my impatience and my dislike for wasting my precious serotonin filled sunshine would take me down a lovely street. san francisco didn't give me a vicious icy windstorm to cut right through me, it gave me little cyclones of pink dancing flower petals hidden in doorways that i never would have noticed from the muni or in the short dash from it's door to my door. san francisco knew i needed time and opportunity. it knew i needed to get cold enough to actually stop in one of the cafes for coffee and not just walk by and say next time. it knew i need time to pull my head out of my ass and look around. and it gave it to me. and that is why san francisco is my valentine.

muni legs

2006-02-07T22:16:00.000-08:00

please, please, please, please tell me that you eventually get used to the muni and that every ride does not end in mind numbing nausea.

how can the people read? i get sick just looking at them read!

blaugh.

bullitt

2006-01-24T23:12:00.000-08:00

i asked the car rental lady if everybody asked for the car from Steve McQueen's epic masterpiece, Bullitt.

she said no.