On Friday night we attended a work dinner party for a big conference that one of my coworkers was putting on for all the people helping us with our most recent clinical trial. We got to eat at a really neat restaurant in the city. All weekend long I kept wanting to take pictures of what we were doing but it never seemed appropriate-- especially at a company dinner. So, as usual, when I don't get any pictures, I steal from the internet. Here is where we ate:
Then we promptly scampered off to see Citizen Cope a few miles away. We arrived an hour after he was supposed to be on stage, and he hadn't appeared yet, and didn't appear for another 30 minutes, so... good timing for us. We watched him amid a swarming sea of scenesters. We loved it.
He's really good live. Reeeeally good. Easy to watch. Fun to watch. Really gets a crowd going despite the fact that his expression is pretty apathetic.
I also learned a few unexpected things.
1) I have a theory that if Citizen Cope cut all his dreds off, he'd look something like William H. Macy. I don't know if these pictures really do it justice-- am I the only one who sees this?
2) Apparently getting legalized "medical" marijuana has a level of ease tantamount to buying aspirin round these parts of the country. I ran out of fingers to count on when I tried to keep track of all the people lighting up hand-rolled doobies. Without fear of being caught. I also learned that the smell of 15 people within 30 feet of me lighting up simultaneously in an enclosed space results in nausea of the most vicious kind, and I found myself taking every other breath with the fibers of my jacket pressed up to my nose and mouth. Sound stupid? It should, because I felt pretty stupid. Actually I felt kind of like a 4th grade narc. Before you judge me/think that your preconceived notions of my geekiness are justified, just remind yourselves that 90% of the concerts I went to in the past 5 years were in UTAH. A great place for music, with a shocking lack of pot.
We got to sleep in the Japantown part of SF. We found this funky hotel-- it was 0.3 miles from the concert and had a cool vibe. We liked it.
And we decided we would dedicate ourselves wholeheartedly to something we'd failed at before-- eating at Dottie's True Blue Cafe.
Again, didn't seem like a great time to take copious pictures, considering we waited in line for an hour and didn't end up eating breakfast till around noon with a line hungry waiting people still lingering outside. Here's the cafe.
We ate cornmeal blueberry pancakes (they tasted like Winchell's donuts, only pancakes), fresh bacon (not greasy or drippy, more like jerky that had been pleasantly porkified), and french toast stuffed with raspberry preserves and mascarpone cheese. I still feel like I'm digesting a bowling ball. A delicious, sweet, life changing bowling ball.
Then we meandered around town. Not really meandered I guess because we had a destination in mind, but took our time getting there. We went to the Queen of all fabric stores-- Britex.
Four floors of every kind of woven or synthetic fabric/textile imaginable. We wanted to get our feet wet, and then pick projects, and come back for the actual materials. Then I'm going to get reacquainted with our Bernina and play seamstress!
Then we came home, exhausted and ready to be back in our suburbian atmosphere. The city is so much fun but I have to admit I love our quiet little on campus place too. I'm a big home body. Harry said that's how you know your trip went well-- you had a good time, but at the end of it, you're ready to go home.
The End.
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