Cellphone. In San Francisco. Not really, almost though. I left it in a bathroom of that god awful airport and got all the way to ticketing before I realized what I had done. Thank the stars it was a deserted bathroom in a buried corner somewhere in between terminal 2 and the clusterfuck that is the international terminal. Ran all the way back, duffel over one shoulder and two-handing my egregiously heavy and broken tote (thanks MacBook), and burst into the bathroom to find my iPhone exactly where I left it, sitting on top of the TP dispenser. Gross, I know, but had I left it in my back pocket it would have fallen on the even grosser floor and I also didn’t want it to get lost in the vortex of my defunct tote.
Anyhow, San Francisco is beautiful, and it’s charming (sometimes), yet overall pretty fucking weird. And I’m from Portland, so you’d think I’d have seen it all by now. Nope. Even I couldn’t prevent myself from gawking judgingly at the (badly) synchronized roller skating in golden gate park, complimented by the dirty tweakers swaying unsteadily near the kindergarten outing. What.
I told my friend that San Francisco’s cumulative fashion sense was like the party child of Nirvana and a Forever21 mannequin hastily dressed by a hungover freshman who doesn’t give a shit. I’ve never experienced a city so reluctant to give up its combat boots.
But, I digress. I was unfortunately not there long enough to really see or do much of anything. The downside of business travel. But what I did end up seeing was either fascinating, or lovely, and sometimes both.
First up, coastline and the ubiquitous Golden Gate Bridge (at a distance). Driving around led us to this lovely and lonely little beach underneath a residential area. Those houses were not the cheap seats, let me tell you.
Here’s more flower and pretty architecture photos:
San Francisco will also be remembered as the place where I learned an important lesson about getting older and mixing food (or more accurately, lack thereof), wine, and new medication. Yikes. And here is me, summing up the experience in possibly the most authentic way: