On top of the sites, people, restaurants, and shopping, one thing I absolutely love about San Francisco is the sounds. Living off Lombard we can always hear the comforting honking or F word flying from the passers by.
Car sounds aside, the thing I'm loving best right now are the dog sounds. Every time we hear an ambulance or fire engine drive by (which is increasing in frequency depressingly enough) all the dogs on the street howl to the rhythm of the siren. There's something kind of serene about the roaring - despite the fact that there's some emergency going on somewhere, dogs are entertaining themselves singing to the cities sounds.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The things they ate
I'm not a total foodie, although I do love food ... good food ... and good wine. But I am always amazed/impressed/baffled at the odd ordering habits of women. Today Matt and I enjoyed a long Rex brunch where, in typical fashion, I eaves dropped on the tables around us. I don't mean to do it - I just have good hearing. Heh.
The order to our right was a side of ham and a side of potatoes - and they could NOT touch. Maybe the woman ordering enjoyed one too many episodes of Monk. To our left the order was just as odd - a side of cut up avocado (no guac please) and a toasted English muffin (not too toasted please).
Both orderers had blond hair - just throwing that in for a random close.
I like it dirty
Get your mind out of the gutter grosso - I mean running. I have been trying for months to get into the Nike Women's Marathon (the greatest marketing tactic and fund raiser I've ever seen). I entered the lotto for the full the day it opened, then, after not getting in, I attended all the mixers in the city (spending way too much money on Nike tanks I really don't need). The mixers were to get entry into a drawing that happened on the first Nike Club run - today. I still haven't gotten in, bummer (!!) but now I'm not so sure I want to. Maybe that's the bitter side of me, though, acting out for now making it.
The entire race and training is shrouded by excellent marketing and PR. At the training today over 100 girls gathered to cheer each other on, drink Jamba Juice, and try on Nike shoes for a one-mile run. At the end of the run were massage chairs where folks could get foot or shoulder massages - I don't really like being touched in general and the thought of a post run sweaty massage isn't that glam to me.
After 2-hours of cheering clapping pink clad runners, I've decided I like it dirty. I prefer the trails where there's no high five after mile one - instead there are dirty bloody kneed runners passing by gasping "good job" or simply grunting and nodding in acknowledgement that yep, it's a tough trail and good job.
Again, though, I could just be bitter. Had I gotten in maybe I'd be typing now in a pink Nike zippy with feather boa trimmed running socks.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tagged
Emily “tagged” me with six questions and, not being one to stop a chain letter or email forward, here I go:
I was a senior at Drake High and was SO ready to get out of Marin for the green pastures of Cal Poly.
Five items on your to-do list:
- Train for Boston Marathon (I guess if I got in I should try to keep up with the “real” runners)
- Clean our house … or find a good local cleaner
- Prep for our canoing/camping weekend (this is more mental prep as I’m not really a camper)
- Get tickets to Boston for Lily’s wedding
- Kayak – it’s been too long
Snacks I enjoy:
Rice cakes (no, really), coffee (is that a snack?), oranges, little candies (mm mini Butterfinger), dried mango, grapes, carrot sticks
What would you do if you were a billionaire?
Have a house on top of Russian Hill with parking, a house on the beach in Mexico, and a condo in Bruges. Get a trainer. Start a school or fund for global education emphasizing comprehension, the arts, and history. Buy lots of “trannie” shoes.
Places I would live:
San Francisco, Bruges, Madrid, New York, Boston, London, Singapore, Korea.
Jobs I have had:
- Library docent
- Camp counselor at special needs camp (in Hawaii – tough)
- Café server
- Clerk at the Gap
- Barista at our college coffee shop
- Publishing intern (very glam indeed)
- Teacher (LBLP)
- Consultant for schools (LBLP)
- Account manager/business development
- Marketing manager
The streets have no shame
I typically walk to work looking up – it’s amazing what you’ll see/learn about the city if you just look up. For example, did you know that the Scientology Center is in the Transamerica Corporation Building? Or that in the right light Coit Tower looks like Darkwing Duck’s lair?This week, though (mainly due to weird stains on the hems of my pants), I’ve been walking eyes down and have learned the streets are gross! Don’t worry, I’m not going to continue my 5th grade diatribe (from the flight home from Orlando) relating the guttural sounding grates to anything.
Here are a few highlights from my eyes to ground walk to work:
- Broadway St. – every morning at 7:30am the street is scrubbed – I haven’t noticed this on any other street and find it rather odd that the one street where peoples “stuff” is encouraged all over inside the buildings (which one would think discourages excess dirtyage on the outside of the building), is the one street that gets a morning shower.
- China Town – the smells here speak for themselves and the streets are filled with truck un-loadings as workers bring pigs and ducks to the shops.
- Financial District – I’m always amazed how many cigarettes are scattered on the streets weaving in and out of the financial district. Those stock brokers and bankers must be stressed!
There are pretty parts, too. Sometimes I see flowers strewn on the corners of Mission left by vendors shutting down (I’m assuming vendors and not hopeless romantics wooing the city). Then there’s the odd tree or weed growing through the sidewalks – the city version of nature.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I heart predictable
Today was a perfectly predictable day in the city. We woke to the sound of tourists lining up and honking on Lombard. Upon rising there was the familiar SF chill cast by the fog. I made it up and out by 9:30 to meet GGRC at the warming hut for an easy 7.5 mile job through the Presidio. We happened upon the typical twinsie dressed new parents pushing their San Franciscoesque strollers sipping on the city drink (no, not a chilled bottle of Napa Pinot G – a Starbucks. Yeesh).
Post run I made it to the market which was predictable. The rich hippies were pushing to get free tastes of expensive organic cheese and the checkers were all checked out and reminiscing on their bon fire dances from the night before. The total, predictably, was quite expensive totaling the equivalent of 3 excellent Polk St. meals. But I feel healthier for perusing the fancy organic aisles, so it’s all, predictably, worth it.
Driving home I dodged the predictable city drivers – one hand on Blackberry, the other scolding the twins in the back of their SUV. Coming to a light I was prepped for the last second left turn when a man motored out in his electric wheel chair, then decided to stop and take in the sites while I watched the cross light go from yellow to red. I wanted to wave hello (one finger wave) and honk in typical fashion, but you can’t very well honk at a person in a wheel chair, so I worked on my patients while quietly fuming.
Now, I’m enjoying a perfectly predictable movie (27 Dresses) with the extra background noise of tourists on Lombard. I love predictable days sometimes – I truly feel like everything is just right.
Post run I made it to the market which was predictable. The rich hippies were pushing to get free tastes of expensive organic cheese and the checkers were all checked out and reminiscing on their bon fire dances from the night before. The total, predictably, was quite expensive totaling the equivalent of 3 excellent Polk St. meals. But I feel healthier for perusing the fancy organic aisles, so it’s all, predictably, worth it.
Driving home I dodged the predictable city drivers – one hand on Blackberry, the other scolding the twins in the back of their SUV. Coming to a light I was prepped for the last second left turn when a man motored out in his electric wheel chair, then decided to stop and take in the sites while I watched the cross light go from yellow to red. I wanted to wave hello (one finger wave) and honk in typical fashion, but you can’t very well honk at a person in a wheel chair, so I worked on my patients while quietly fuming.
Now, I’m enjoying a perfectly predictable movie (27 Dresses) with the extra background noise of tourists on Lombard. I love predictable days sometimes – I truly feel like everything is just right.
I heart predictable
Today was a perfectly predictable day in the city. We woke to the sound of tourists lining up and honking on Lombard. Upon rising there was the familiar SF chill cast by the fog. I made it up and out by 9:30 to meet GGRC at the warming hut for an easy 7.5 mile job through the Presidio. We happened upon the typical twinsie dressed new parents pushing their San Franciscoesque strollers sipping on the city drink (no, not a chilled bottle of Napa Pinot G – a Starbucks. Yeesh).
Post run I made it to the market which was predictable. The rich hippies were pushing to get free tastes of expensive organic cheese and the checkers were all checked out and reminiscing on their bon fire dances from the night before. The total, predictably, was quite expensive totaling the equivalent of 3 excellent Polk St. meals. But I feel healthier for perusing the fancy organic aisles, so it’s all, predictably, worth it.
Driving home I dodged the predictable city drivers – one hand on Blackberry, the other scolding the twins in the back of their SUV. Coming to a light I was prepped for the last second left turn when a man motored out in his electric wheel chair, then decided to stop and take in the sites while I watched the cross light go from yellow to red. I wanted to wave hello (one finger wave) and honk in typical fashion, but you can’t very well honk at a person in a wheel chair, so I worked on my patients while quietly fuming.
Now, I’m enjoying a perfectly predictable movie (27 Dresses) with the extra background noise of tourists on Lombard. I love predictable days sometimes – I truly feel like everything is just right.
Post run I made it to the market which was predictable. The rich hippies were pushing to get free tastes of expensive organic cheese and the checkers were all checked out and reminiscing on their bon fire dances from the night before. The total, predictably, was quite expensive totaling the equivalent of 3 excellent Polk St. meals. But I feel healthier for perusing the fancy organic aisles, so it’s all, predictably, worth it.
Driving home I dodged the predictable city drivers – one hand on Blackberry, the other scolding the twins in the back of their SUV. Coming to a light I was prepped for the last second left turn when a man motored out in his electric wheel chair, then decided to stop and take in the sites while I watched the cross light go from yellow to red. I wanted to wave hello (one finger wave) and honk in typical fashion, but you can’t very well honk at a person in a wheel chair, so I worked on my patients while quietly fuming.
Now, I’m enjoying a perfectly predictable movie (27 Dresses) with the extra background noise of tourists on Lombard. I love predictable days sometimes – I truly feel like everything is just right.
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