I am absolutely infatuated with San Francisco. I’m not quite sure what it is—I love the weather, the people, the buildings and the feel of the city. Every time I visit, I promise myself that I’ll move there, some day. Spending this past Sunday there, with one of my favorite people was such a nice break, and not just because I got to finally stop sweating and hating 105+ degree weather.
We kicked off our day at Renegade Craft Fair, which was really cool. I got to meet a blogger I’ve read for years, Mati Rose, and I of course froze like a TOTAL IDIOT, as I’ve done before. Why, oh why, am I such a freakshow when I meet new people I admire? I need to work on this.
Anyways, Fort Mason, where Renegade was held, was gorgeous:
Despite the Golden Gate being fogged over, the water was beautiful and it was chilly and brisk. It felt like heaven.
Next, Leslie and I drove through the area near the Palace of Fine Arts:
This, friends is where it gets interesting. You see, while tooling around the neighborhood, we noticed an open house sign for a luxury building. Because Leslie and I are totally on the same page for things like this, we found a parking spot as quickly as is possible in San Francisco (about 45 minutes!) and I watched as Leslie completed a truly impressive parallel park job. Anyways, we went in to the apartment, and nearly fell over with joy. I was too busy fondling the clawfoot tub to take any interior photos, but here is the view from the roof deck—minus the Golden Gate and Palace of Fine Arts:
We then spent the next 3 hours figuring out
who we needed to knock off how we could get the $900,000 needed to procure this apartment. We laid out all sorts of plans to be platonic life partners with an adopted baby who would undoubtedly be the most twisted, paranoid child who’d probably need to live in a bubble out of all of the neurosis we would inflict upon it.
Anyways, after that adventure, we drove to Hipster Capital of The World: the Dolores Park area. Besides feeling like total squares, we enjoyed gawking at the people wandering the area, of which there were a million. I had to let a little dream of being a hipster die—I will never be that “non-conformist”. Ever. I don’t look good in plaid shirts, short shorts or Ray Bans. Oh well!
We had lunch/dinner at a VERY fancy restaurant, which was delicious. I love food, so the handmade pasta, filet mignon “Genovese” meatballs and delicious sauce were impressive; however, I was STARVING, so the tiny portion didn’t exactly thrill me. Our poor waiter kept trying to upsell us salad or dessert or wine and we didn’t have the heart to tell him we were going to be a huge waste of his time. Sorry, sir! But thanks for calling us Senorina!
Perhaps the biggest highlight of the dinner was being seated across from the quintessential Secure Older Woman, dining alone while reading a book. Throughout her meal, she peppered her conversation with the waiter with awful, pretentious phrases including “oughtn’t” and “gorgeous” pronounced “GOR-GUSS”. She was a charmer, and I enjoyed eavesdropping on her every ridiculous word.
Next up was Alamo Square:
Which is where Full House was shot. Here are the houses:
After Alamo Square, we risked our lives and drove up to Twin Peaks, where yesterdays wind-whipped shot was taken. The fog was rolling in at epic speed, so my photos were crappier than normal. I’ll spare you.
We wrapped up our day by shooting City Hall at night:
What’s that, you say? It doesn’t look like City Hall? Oh, that’s because MY CAMERA SUCKS, as do all my photos of actual City Hall. The moral of yesterday was definitely Amy Needs A New Camera.
Still, it was a delightful day. For a funnier and better photographed re-cap with photos of our love den, check out Leslie’s entry about our trip.