San Francisco day two

yesterday in somewhat chronological order: 

Outer Sunset wires. 

perhaps duct-taping your license plate to your molester van will arouse suspicion no matter how austere your business logo.  

a church made of cake.

part of the UCSF Medical Center. I took this for its luscious brutalism and then was like how's it going, Hippocrates.

the Asian Art Museum. these characters are all about 6" long, made of porcelain and individually shipped from overseas. the whole shebang weighs over two tons. 

delicacy.

a snuff box to share with someone you dig. 

the camel of rutty triumph! this is what the very last tchotchke I bought from the Capitol Hill Valù Villâge is based on! I had no idea! this guy is about 4' long, encased in glass, c. 690-750. thank you, my fantastic cousin, for enlightening me! 

a duck ewer. when I just typed that my phone tried to autocorrect it to fuck eeee! admittedly, that's a far more plausible phrase.

fuck-off windowsills near the Civic Center, and me. 

Fell Street. no really. ha ha ha. 

the "bags of felt ammo" cost $5.95.

and the placard accompanying these patches introduced the artist as being "a recent member of the lactose-intolerant community." oh San Francisco. 

$3100/month, 700sq feet, month-to-month lease. 

pretty things. 

I was walking down the hill and saw half of it due to the angle and thought no, NO, it better not be. but it is. 

the statue gets its own view.

this is horrible angle because I had to basically straddle a Smartcar to get both the sidewalk and the stairs, but I love how they name stairwells here. Seattle needs to do that! 

Sutro Tower, 977' tall. 

Le Creuset egg cups. 

Castro & Market.

a random street. thanks, random street.

this store has effectively neutralized itself. 

the dog was more wisely clad than I. it was gorgeous except for the 20mph wind. I got a sunburn to go with my grey hands. 

trees under assault!

actually on the Golden Gate Bridge! I wussed out after the first tower. it's a long fucking way down. 

and looking up. the moon is waxing. 

the Legion of Honor museum grounds. this was a startling thing to glance over and be surprised by. 

the N-Judah line. 

the more I travel, and the more places I visit that I fucking love, the more I wonder if, despite loving a place, I really actually fit in anywhere. maybe everyone feels that way. 

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. 

mayhaps

alleyway graffiti. I needed this. 

and further down the same block. 

Denny & Olive. I had to delete a video of my darling cat to be able to take this photo, for fuck's sake. 

a fanciful tree on 16th. I googled "tree with feathery pink leaves" and it appears to be an Astilbe. 

nothing but blue skies. 

the resident cat on Federal Ave. he had a twee name like "Mixie" and acknowledged me indifferently. this is why I like cats. they validate assholery.

less of an asshole but spectacular nevertheless. this is a still from one of the videos. if I ever started a company selling cat videos I'd call it "SpinsterVision."

the sadly pruned tree at Volunteer Park. 

the seven-years-bad-luck thing was a convergence of humans believing their reflections in the water were actually their souls, coupled with the ancient Roman idea that the body takes seven years to fully regenerate. every time I see a broken mirror I just think "someone's had a shitty day." 

slothful consolation prize. 

and an unfiltered, overexposed moment on a beautiful Thursday. 

yesterday was sultry and sunny and I sat on a bench next to a newly fertilized garden and read about the human brain and how we process information and I thought about how fucking magical and bewildering it is to be able to read about our intelligence and a nearby shirtless 

man lying on his back sneezed loudly and didn't move and I didn't know until that moment that it was actually possible to sneeze whilst on your back without choking and I have a sandal tan now and I fucking love this city.