San Francisco day one

it was 80 and sunny when I left seattle. I had a window seat behind the wing and the middle seat was empty. on the aisle was a man, Dan?, who handed out boxes of Chukar cherries to each of the flight attendants. they announced his birthday over the intercom as we landed. during the flight he drank a gin and tonic and did stoic businesslike things and seemed to ignore my fidgeting. 

the fog began to occlude everything. 

and my pen vomited all over my hand. 

I completely underdressed. it's windy and barely 60 and I pranced off the train in my pithy Seattle summer garb. I may actually have to purchase layers today, since I wore everything I brought yesterday and I was still cold. 

the (room in the basement of the) yellow place is my lair whilst here. they supply free dry cereal, so I'm set. 

gnarliness at Golden Gate. 

clothes with a past.

the law building (?) on Folsom. I took this through the window because the atrium vaguely reminded me of the Guggenheim. the reflections were a very happy accident. 

a local tortie fix. 

the hill in the distance was dulcetly lit by discreet sun seepage through the fog that never really dissipated, but it doesn't show up here so I made it monochromatic. 

gofundme to replace fire damage. 

a tree full of windchimes, bells, frippery. it was fucking loud. 

and then my battery died, so I missed capturing the group of people arranging their carts of possessions in the Tenderloin library restroom, and the lit neuron sculpture and the pungent sea lions along the Embarcadero, and the magenta streak across the sky at sunset, and the delicate white lights of the East Bay bridge, and the cubist cement fountain, and the awesome neon and the rebar sticking out of trash cans in the Mission, and the sliver of moon once the fog blew away, and the cheese pizza with onions atop an outdoor table, and the red spill under paper towels at the bodega, and the way the city is so dark and quiet and secretive at 1 AM. so I'll have to just remember.