love forever, love is free
A Day In San Francisco, In Short: Car. Mediterranean food. Haight-Ashbury and Che Guevera shirts. The Love of Ganesha. Skirt. Car. Park. Cello. Car. Hills. Ocean. Wet pants. Skirt. Hot sand. Jellyfish stings. Salt. Car. Bo in Center. Puppets. Laughter. Berkeley. Amoeba Music. Marillion. Wallet. Books. Older brother. Chinese food. Watermelon. Car. Starbucks. House. Amy. Presents. Talking. Sleep. Oatmeal Squares. Car. Home.
For Ashley W's birthday, she wanted to take several of her friends to San Francisco with her. (Her birthday, however is not until July 23rd. The reason for this early celebratory event was the sad forthgoing of Andrea and I to another city seven hours away. And we are So Freaking Cool, she changed the date.)
We show up at 8:45 in the AM, and Ashley is looking tired. I have approximately two hours of sleep under my belt, having suffered a strange bout of insomnia, and Lizzy has little more. The moon must have been murderous, that night. Anyone else sleep badly? Ashley L and Andrea both show up. We are all there. We leave at 9:45 in the AM, after Ashley's father has a train crate dropped on his head. I worry about possible massive blood loss on the car ride, but he is fine. He looks like he got beat up; blood still fresh and bright on his head all day.
After driving for near two hours, we reach our destination. Magically, we find a place to park. Sort of. We walk a bit. We go to a restaurant; I want to say it's Mediterranean, being as the food was rather Greek in nature. Falafel and shish-kabobs. The lamb was absolutely perfect, and I was tempted to ask for a recipe. I did not. Alas.
Once we drive a bit more, we go to Haight-Ashbury. Many obnoxious tourist pictures are taken. First stop: The Love Of Ganesha. (I highly suspect this store has had a somewhat recent overhaul, as all websites for it call it a "strange hippie store". There was no hippie paraphanelia. [Aside from incense, maybe.]) After trying on other silly things, I buy a floor-length tilted skirt with gold, blue, and dark purple patterns. I'm wearing it now, I absolutely love it. I drink tea. It is tasty tea! (Jasmine rice tea, a friend decided.) My friends took pictures of the Meditation room.
There were other stops on the way, but none so relevant as Ganesha, for me. Ashley W. bought a Che Guevera shirt; she was muttered something about originality and uniqueness and we didn't catch most of it. She was not deterred when we pointed out that many people wore Che shirts. And: Musical stores, with three-to-five hundred dollar acoustic guitars make me feel elite.
We drove to Goldengate park, and took pictures among the flowers. In the tunnel, a guitar player sat, with no case for money, and played random tunes. A man sat on the steps with a cello. Andrea asked about it, and he said he'd teach her a little something. After a beautiful little performance with his guitar friend, Cello Man sat down and gave Andrea the cello, instructing her a little bit. She positively glowed. Cello Man and Guitar Boy talked, and Andrea made noise happily. We thanked him, after several minutes, and left.
At the ocean, we ran over to the waves like a flock of silly seagulls. Ashley L. carried Ashley W. on her shoulders; I grabbed Ashley W and swung her around, nearly dropping her. The sky was grey and empty and dark, and fog misted everything. The wing was blowing everything around. Standing in the waves, the blue jellyfish rolled past us again and again, and washed up dead on the wet sand. Lizzy tried to shove Ashley W. into the water, and Ashley W. was stung. Just barely. But she sat in the sand, thereafter, and made peace signs with a stick.
I could taste the salt in the air; I wanted to dive into the ocean and swim away forever.
Pants thoroughly soaked, I changed into my skirt. I love my skirt. I love it I love it I love it. Which is why I mention this part. Thereafter, we traveled to Berkely. However, the drive was quite fun. Andrea, Ashley W., and Lizzy had hand-puppets (a bear, a lion, and an elephant) and they stuck them out the mini-van windows. With tinted glass, all that was visible were the puppets. They waved them at people. Many people laughed, some pointed, and some looking mocking. A few were pissed, strangely. One car took a photo. Note: Asians tended to laugh more, and tell point it out to their companions.
Oh, and, Ashley W., directed at an African-American looking fellow wearing a black knitted cap and a robe: He's JEWISH!
Me: Uh... actually, I think he's Muslim...
Ashley W.: Oh...
Once in Berkeley, we proceeded to a record store entitled Amoeba Music. I was pleased.Many many CD's, many many albums. I bought Marillion's singles "Kayleigh" and "Assassin". Yes, I am egotistical. Yes, they are on my wall, next to my "Misplaced Childhood" and "Lavender" album covers.
Unfortunately, though, Lizzy had my wallet, and they left the store. They left me! In a strange city, they abandoned me in a store! Wallet-less! A bit aggravated, I set my albums down and stalked out across the street, remembering something about her mother going to a bookstore. She flagged me down and we wandered over to another bookstore further down. I snatched my wallet and stalked back to the other store, and bought my albums. After and a short and unsatisfactory browse through the books (whenever is Magical Thinking going to be in trade paperback?), the rest of the group wanted to leave.
My knee was hurting me badly, and, accordingly, I sat in the car while the other girls piled out (puppets in hand) to grab Ashley W's older brother, Chris. He was not home. They crawled along the pavement for nothing, sadly. They were most disappointed.
At the Chinese restaurant, a mirror at the entrance made it look like another door and other people were entering at the same time. It startled us all. We all ordered much food, and it was all delicious. The bean-curd was a bit weird; I'm not very fond of the sponge/squish texture. But the flavouring was awesome. I wish I knew the name of the restaurant; I'd recommend it. After Ashley W. urged her mother to tell the staff it was her birthday, she was presented with a watermelon with a candle in it. It was quite delicious, that watermelon!
And then the car ride home. In which Ashley peed. A lot. And I drank Starbucks, and realized, I need to start getting Tall instead of Grande.
That, essentially is it for SF. Afterwards, we just went to Ashley W's house, and she opened her presents from Amy, Lizzy, and I (My Little Ponies, Hips). We talked, we ate cake, we discovered that Lizzy, Amy and I are Total Losers in the Male Department, and we talked some more. And we fell asleep. And we ate Oatmeal Squares for breakfast. And we came home. And here we are.
Oh, and, Ashley's father and mother drive to the hospital but don't go in; he has an allergic reactions to the prawns which I ordered and he helped eat. However, after a massive dose of Benadryl and a while spent sitting in the parking lot of the hospital, they come home and go to bed. He was absolutely fine this morning; but the wounds on his head from earlier still look funny.
(I tried to convince people that he'd gotten them from a flying taxi hubcap accident, but no go. Poo!)
Hurrah!
For Ashley W's birthday, she wanted to take several of her friends to San Francisco with her. (Her birthday, however is not until July 23rd. The reason for this early celebratory event was the sad forthgoing of Andrea and I to another city seven hours away. And we are So Freaking Cool, she changed the date.)
We show up at 8:45 in the AM, and Ashley is looking tired. I have approximately two hours of sleep under my belt, having suffered a strange bout of insomnia, and Lizzy has little more. The moon must have been murderous, that night. Anyone else sleep badly? Ashley L and Andrea both show up. We are all there. We leave at 9:45 in the AM, after Ashley's father has a train crate dropped on his head. I worry about possible massive blood loss on the car ride, but he is fine. He looks like he got beat up; blood still fresh and bright on his head all day.
After driving for near two hours, we reach our destination. Magically, we find a place to park. Sort of. We walk a bit. We go to a restaurant; I want to say it's Mediterranean, being as the food was rather Greek in nature. Falafel and shish-kabobs. The lamb was absolutely perfect, and I was tempted to ask for a recipe. I did not. Alas.
Once we drive a bit more, we go to Haight-Ashbury. Many obnoxious tourist pictures are taken. First stop: The Love Of Ganesha. (I highly suspect this store has had a somewhat recent overhaul, as all websites for it call it a "strange hippie store". There was no hippie paraphanelia. [Aside from incense, maybe.]) After trying on other silly things, I buy a floor-length tilted skirt with gold, blue, and dark purple patterns. I'm wearing it now, I absolutely love it. I drink tea. It is tasty tea! (Jasmine rice tea, a friend decided.) My friends took pictures of the Meditation room.
There were other stops on the way, but none so relevant as Ganesha, for me. Ashley W. bought a Che Guevera shirt; she was muttered something about originality and uniqueness and we didn't catch most of it. She was not deterred when we pointed out that many people wore Che shirts. And: Musical stores, with three-to-five hundred dollar acoustic guitars make me feel elite.
We drove to Goldengate park, and took pictures among the flowers. In the tunnel, a guitar player sat, with no case for money, and played random tunes. A man sat on the steps with a cello. Andrea asked about it, and he said he'd teach her a little something. After a beautiful little performance with his guitar friend, Cello Man sat down and gave Andrea the cello, instructing her a little bit. She positively glowed. Cello Man and Guitar Boy talked, and Andrea made noise happily. We thanked him, after several minutes, and left.
At the ocean, we ran over to the waves like a flock of silly seagulls. Ashley L. carried Ashley W. on her shoulders; I grabbed Ashley W and swung her around, nearly dropping her. The sky was grey and empty and dark, and fog misted everything. The wing was blowing everything around. Standing in the waves, the blue jellyfish rolled past us again and again, and washed up dead on the wet sand. Lizzy tried to shove Ashley W. into the water, and Ashley W. was stung. Just barely. But she sat in the sand, thereafter, and made peace signs with a stick.
I could taste the salt in the air; I wanted to dive into the ocean and swim away forever.
Pants thoroughly soaked, I changed into my skirt. I love my skirt. I love it I love it I love it. Which is why I mention this part. Thereafter, we traveled to Berkely. However, the drive was quite fun. Andrea, Ashley W., and Lizzy had hand-puppets (a bear, a lion, and an elephant) and they stuck them out the mini-van windows. With tinted glass, all that was visible were the puppets. They waved them at people. Many people laughed, some pointed, and some looking mocking. A few were pissed, strangely. One car took a photo. Note: Asians tended to laugh more, and tell point it out to their companions.
Oh, and, Ashley W., directed at an African-American looking fellow wearing a black knitted cap and a robe: He's JEWISH!
Me: Uh... actually, I think he's Muslim...
Ashley W.: Oh...
Once in Berkeley, we proceeded to a record store entitled Amoeba Music. I was pleased.Many many CD's, many many albums. I bought Marillion's singles "Kayleigh" and "Assassin". Yes, I am egotistical. Yes, they are on my wall, next to my "Misplaced Childhood" and "Lavender" album covers.
Unfortunately, though, Lizzy had my wallet, and they left the store. They left me! In a strange city, they abandoned me in a store! Wallet-less! A bit aggravated, I set my albums down and stalked out across the street, remembering something about her mother going to a bookstore. She flagged me down and we wandered over to another bookstore further down. I snatched my wallet and stalked back to the other store, and bought my albums. After and a short and unsatisfactory browse through the books (whenever is Magical Thinking going to be in trade paperback?), the rest of the group wanted to leave.
My knee was hurting me badly, and, accordingly, I sat in the car while the other girls piled out (puppets in hand) to grab Ashley W's older brother, Chris. He was not home. They crawled along the pavement for nothing, sadly. They were most disappointed.
At the Chinese restaurant, a mirror at the entrance made it look like another door and other people were entering at the same time. It startled us all. We all ordered much food, and it was all delicious. The bean-curd was a bit weird; I'm not very fond of the sponge/squish texture. But the flavouring was awesome. I wish I knew the name of the restaurant; I'd recommend it. After Ashley W. urged her mother to tell the staff it was her birthday, she was presented with a watermelon with a candle in it. It was quite delicious, that watermelon!
And then the car ride home. In which Ashley peed. A lot. And I drank Starbucks, and realized, I need to start getting Tall instead of Grande.
That, essentially is it for SF. Afterwards, we just went to Ashley W's house, and she opened her presents from Amy, Lizzy, and I (My Little Ponies, Hips). We talked, we ate cake, we discovered that Lizzy, Amy and I are Total Losers in the Male Department, and we talked some more. And we fell asleep. And we ate Oatmeal Squares for breakfast. And we came home. And here we are.
Oh, and, Ashley's father and mother drive to the hospital but don't go in; he has an allergic reactions to the prawns which I ordered and he helped eat. However, after a massive dose of Benadryl and a while spent sitting in the parking lot of the hospital, they come home and go to bed. He was absolutely fine this morning; but the wounds on his head from earlier still look funny.
(I tried to convince people that he'd gotten them from a flying taxi hubcap accident, but no go. Poo!)
Hurrah!