Day 5: “Whitney’s Wedding!” <3

This day was the first time I drove across the Golden Gate Bridge. There was a rainbow tunnel. Ha, how San Francisco! The drive to Napa reminded me of what I imagine Tuscany to be like: rolling hills, tall thin pines, grapes…but Tuscany probably doesn’t have wide highways like California does. Mark and I arrived at our kitsch hotel (plastic flowers in the lobby and a rose tattoo on our 50-year-old receptionist’s breast). I got changed into wedding attire and we headed into town. Napa is a lot smaller than I imagined, considering it’s so famous for wine. It’s a very quaint, cute little “all American” town.  Mark and I were walking around town, actually, I was limping around town, so we stopped into Walgreens to get bandages for my blistered feet.  I saw some beautiful blossoming trees and asked Mark to take my picture sitting in one of them when I heard “Is that Fran? Fran!” Whitney came running across the street in her wedding dress. I knew I would see her before the wedding, it’s such a small town, how could I not?  The ceremony was lovely and intimate.  You could tell that everyone in the room knew and cared for the bride and groom, unlike how some larger weddings must be.  Afterwards we all went to an Italian restaurant for dinner. It was so much fun! A small group of us “youngsters” carried on the party to the local pub, but we got cut off almost as soon as we walked in the door!  I got one glass of wine before that happened, and that pushed me over the edge…I suddenly realized I was the only single person sitting wedged in between 4 couples…”Typical!”  I thought.  I decided I had to go to the bathroom.  For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to get out of the booth by walking across the table instead of asking others to move…oh well…all’s well that ends well, and everything ended superbly.  The next morning I had my first “Californian food”, “Huevos Ranchos” (Ranch style eggs).  Amazing.  

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Day 4: Catching Up in my Diary / Catching up with Daddy

My dad and I hadn’t seen eachother since the summer. The most annoying thing was that I was missing him in Canada by a few mere days (I left Canada on March 29th and he was supposed to be arriving in Canada on April 2nd). I was ecstatic when I learned he would be pitstopping in SF on his way back from Australia. My fourth day consisted of the following: Wake up at 7:45. Catch shuttle to airport at 8:30. Expect dad to arrive at 11:30am. go early so I can do some diary writing while I wait. at 11am, notice that dad’s flight is delayed until 5PM! Spend the next 6 hours writing 40 pages in my diary (the long version of what I have written so far on my blog). Meet dad, go to hotel restaurant, get beautiful necklace and earrings (early birthday present), devour veggie burger and fries, get practical business advice, and rush off after dinner to go meet Mark in Palo Alto. All I have to say about Mark’s place is that I felt like Will Smith at 1:25. What a surreal life he does lead.

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Day 3: Downward Dogpatch, Hell’s Angels & Swing Dancing

Day 3 was one of the most magical days so far..and let me tell you, there are major contenders. This day started off with me going to a relaxing yoga class (as part of a 7 day free trial). After that I went to Potrero Hill to pick up a bike I was buying off someone. While I waited for her to show up, I found an incredible cafe called “Just For You“. They played blues music and had…wait for it…a VEGGIE REUBEN! Lord knows I have actually ordered Reuben sandwiches “without meat”…which is basically sauerkraut and thousand island dressing on sourdough. “Only in San Francisco could I find a veggie reuben…” I mused. Yet another reason I already loved this city. Towards the front of the cafe sat a mysterious woman: She was wearing the most incredible red skirt, it was blazing in the patch of sunlight that shone on it. I sat down next to the woman, and luckily we struck up the most incredible conversation. Her name was Erin Mahoney. She told me that this area is known as the “dogpatch” (Lonely Planet did not mention anything about this!) We also talked about radiated vegetables, Venetian masquerades, castles, gold-leaf covered turkey, and the San Francisco Art Deco Society. As if my mouth hadn’t been hanging open the hold time, she just has to mention my most sacred fantasy, a.k.a., being part of an Art Deco Society! My mouth couldn’t open any wider. I squealed and squeaked. She invited me to an Art Deco Ball…and then later to a swing dance that was happening that night at a fancy hotel downtown (bonus, “it’s free! And you have to dress up. I mean, you can wear jeans, but you’ll be looked upon better if you dress up, and wear a little heel”.) Gah…I could not express my glee in English words…any words. Just incomprehensible sounds. Before she flew away she handed me a slick red business card. I wrote my contact information on an old bus transfer. (I have since ordered business cards). magical, magical, magical. I was counting my lucky stars as I wandered away…apparently into the parking lot of the Hell’s Angels Clubhouse! I sat on a bench there for a few moments before getting in trouble…I thought it was abandoned but apparently not. I ended up “playing Monster Trucks” with the Hell’s Angel’s son, but I think his dad thought I was a crack head, so he wasn’t allowed to play with me anymore. Perfect timing, cause the girl whose bike I was buying showed up. Sweet, I bought a red hybrid bike. I got home just in time to slip on a dress and find my way downtown. Le Coloniel was the name of the hotel where the swing dance was being held. I cannot descibe the magic that whirled around me. first off, I walked into an abandoned lobby, skirted up some white marble stairs, strolled through a dark canopied hallway full of white wicker furniture into a fancy restaurant. “I’m here to dance” I told the hostess…It was what Erin had told me to say when I arrived. I felt like it was some password to a secret society. “Sure, go on up” she pointed to another set of stairs. When I reached the first step, I heard it…A LIVE retro jazz band! But nothing prepared me for what I was about to see…I held my breath as I ascended the stairs…and there was a 6 peice jazz band, dressed entirely in 1940s garb…fedoras and all! People were swing dancing on the dance floor. I was in love with the moment. I went to the bar and ordered a chocolate martini. I recognized Erin immeditely when she walked in, she was wearing a retro halter dress and the most incredible feather hair peice. Oh, did I mention she was carrying a circular hat box? She pawned me off onto different swing dancers although the evening, and she was certainly an inspiration to watch. The girl knows how to pose! Every bat of the eyelash, twist of the wrist, and this is just when she speaks, forget the fact she is one of the most graceful dancers I’ve ever seen. “That’s it” I thought “I have to take swing lessons”. I have yet to go back, but I can’t wait until next Thursday. In retrospect, my experience kind of reminds me of this scene from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?…minus the cartoon violence. And is that a streetcar I see in the beginning? OMG was this movie supposed to take place in San Francisco?!?!

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Day 2: 49 Geary Galleries and the Presidio

Ok…So I’ve been in San Francisco for 20 days and I’ve only blogged a few times. It’s a lot more difficult to maintain a daily blog, or even a weekly blog, than I thought! This is why:

Even though I’m not “working”, I’m keeping myself super busy. This is what life should be like! I’ve probably explored more of the city in 2 weeks than most people who have lived here for 2 years. I’m doing a better job recording my experiences in my real diary, so I’ve decided that in this blog I will focus on specific moments. Since a picture speaks a thousand words, there’s no need to write so much. Time to work backwards. So I skipped from “Day 1” to “Day 13”. Let me start with “Day 2”:

Day 2: “Geary Galleries and The Presidio”

“If you want to explore everything, go up to the 5th floor and work your way down the stairs, like the Guggenheim” said the elderly gentleman in the elevator. And that’s exactly what I did. My roommate in Korea, Sue, recommended I check out “FiftyCrows Gallery“. I wasn’t sure where it was, but as luck would have it, I washed up into its urban entrance after getting lost downtown. It’s in a building called “49 Geary” which hosts a wide range of galleries. My favourite artist of the day was Lucy Gaylord-Lindholm, whose renaissance style portraits deal with wounds, history and…bandaids. This portrait of a little girl whose dress transforms into a haunting mechanical structure had me spell-bound:Another art exhibition that I saw that I really enjoyed was Absence and Presence by Claire Burbridge and Matthew Picton.  I immedidely recognized a paper sculptre to be a city map of San Francisco.  According to them, the sculpture was “assembled from paper and systematically burnt…The work representing San Francisco focuses on the great fire of 1906. The sculpture is constructed from the covers of the 1936 film about that event. In this way, layers of history, fiction, interpretations and reaction merge into a multi-faceted and retrospective image, which also looks forward to the future. Matthew Picton and Claire Burbridge combine their distinctive approaches in an exhibition that illuminates the changes in relationships between civilizations. Using a variety of visual languages, from the engineered cartographic lines to the natural form of the draped human body, they show the condition of particular human beings in the theatre of historical change. The work combines the mortality of the human form with the impermanence of man-made civilizations, and points to the enduring capacity of humanity for renewal and resurrection.”  Ahhh, well, that was my dose of academia for the day.

MATTHEW PICTON
San Francisco Burnt, 1906, 2010
video covers of the film “San Francisco, 1936”
48 x 58 inches

I also met an antique book dealer with a passion for William Blake. I asked if he had of Charles Darwin’s books, but he did not. apparently the last copy of Origin of Species he saw (“The 1st edition in the green cloth binding”) sold for $150,000. “Did you know that Blake did an illustration for Erasmus Darwin’s book The Botanic Garden? You know who Erasmus was, don’t you?” I hope that was a rhetorical question, duh. Just who do you think you’re talking to? I am not some surf! “Of course I know.” (For those of you who don’t, Erasmus was Charlie’s grandpa). I hadn’t known, however, that Erasmus was a poet (the book is a compilation of 2 poems) nor that William Blake had in any way been associated with my family…how exciting! Yet another reason to research my British roots in more detail. London 2012 here I come!After I toured the galleries, I went home to change into a black and white outfit, I was volunteering at the San Francisco Film Society that night. I google mapped where I was supposed to go. I had to walk through a green space known as “The Presidio” (I kept calling it “Paradiso” in my head). What I thought would be a grassy “Central Park” type area ended up being a beautiful swaying forest of Eucalyptus trees. They were swaying because it was really windy, and of course it started raining and I got soaked. Sigh. Whatever, it was a good night. I met some cool people, including the girl who writes this blog.

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Day 13: Alice Walker, Danny Glover, Robin Williams and Advice from Lady Gaga

I am 2 weeks behind on my blog. I skipped from Day 1 to Day 13. It’s going to take a lot of rainy days to force me to stay inside and catch up. Until then, here is a more recent update of what I’ve been doing:

Today I went to the “Sping edition” of San Francisco’s Green Festival. I was put off by the first talk I attended, which was supposed to be about the changing face of media, but instead ended up being about drug rehab, jail and West African hallucinogenic tree bark. The copious amounts of free samples made me feel better. I must have eaten a whole box worth of “Mary’s gone crackers” cookies. While I waited for Danny Glover and Alice Walker to appear, I killed time by wandering through aisles and aisles of “green” products…My favourite was Sheila Moon‘s athletic apparel: steam-punkesque biking gear. Finally 4 o’clock rolled around. Alice Walker gave a lovely talk about her memories of Howard Zinn. Danny Glover was good at rallying people, although to be honest, I couldn’t really concentrate on what he was saying because I was so mesmerized by his 1990s celebrity status:I just kept thinking “there’s a look I recognize from ‘Angels in the Outfield!'”…Terrible, I know. Afterwards a woman who I had never heard of (but apparently is a “Bay Area Sensation”) sang some moving, soulful songs. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Goapele (pronounced “Gwa-pa-lay”). Afterwards, I bought Alice Walker’s book “We Are the Ones We Have been Waiting For” and got it signed. I was saddened by the fact that she didn’t ask my name or what I thought of the conference…Oh well, the woman was probably exhausted.

Speaking of celebrities, my roommate nonchalantly informed me this morning that ROBIN WILLIAMS’ HOUSE IS 2 BLOCKS AWAY FROM OURS! AHhhh! She also mentioned that she went to school with his kids! Apparently “celebrities are no big deal around here”…so I hope she doesn’t tell me his exact address otherwise I might look like the only tourist/paparazzi in town. Oh, speaking of paparazzi, I’ve been contemplating some business advice from Lady Gaga recently:

“Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you’re wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn’t love you any more.”

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Day One: I Pine For Thee

I awoke the next morning with the thought: “I’m in San Francisco!” running through my head. I smiled, pulled open the blinds, and this is what I saw:

I walked into the kitchen and sat at the high top table, looking out into the beautiful, yet unkept, garden:I listened to India Arie and the sound of chirping birds. I made myself a veggie omlette. I heard a sudden rapping on the windows, and realized it was pouring. “A freak rainstorm…Welcome to San Francisco!” I sighed/laughed. I followed up my omlette with fresh pears in all-natural yogurt…I had a long day of exploring ahead of me, I had to be well fed! I had seen the “Pine Street END” street sign, and now I wanted to know where Pine Street began. I retraced my steps to the top of the hill and began my decent into San Francisco. The weather had cleared up: the streets were wet but the sky was blue. I took pictures of almost every house, the Victorian “painted ladies”, as my lonely planet calls them. Amusingly Lonely Planet also enlightened me to the fact that “Pacific Heights” is locally known as “Specific Whites”, which refers not only to the new beige and white paint jobs the formerly colourful “painted ladies” recieved, but also to the ethnic demographic, which is, you guessed it, mostly white.

My first point of interest was “Frankie’s Bohemian Cafe“, (I went there the next week, sadly their veggie burger did not live up to my expectations). The next point of interest besides the houses was a church. It was just after (?) Easter and I found the remains of some palm fronds in the garbage. The minister (?) told me that this church was the fourth incarnation of the church, as the others were destroyed by Earthquakes or other acts of God presumably. The windows were being replaced, which made for some interesting images. The main hall reminded me of a photographer’s studio, because of the transparents tarps set up, they looked like photographers light boxes.

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Day .5: “Trader Joes”

I arrived in the late afternoon on March 29th. After meeting my roommate and dropping off my suitcase, my first order of business was going to Trader Joes. “It’s just up the hill…which is in itself an understatement” said my roommate. She was right. When I got to the top of the hill, I turned around and saw this:

I smiled, (laughed, actually) jumped up and down, wiggled my toes, and counted my lucky stars. “I’m in San Francisco!” I whispered, trying to convince myself that I was actually physically standing in San Francisco…Hard to believe, as just a few weeks before I’d been living in the mountains just south of the North Korean border.

When I walked into Trader Joes, It was like walking into the doors of some celestial grocery heaven. I had found my people. The first thing I saw besides the colourful fresh-cut flowers were the spiral honey hams, followed by a sea of fedora-wearing boys. I was simply euphoric. I felt I could be friends with anyone. One of the workers helped me look for chick peas (American: garbanzo beans) but alas we could not find any, so I settled on pre-made humus (which was excellent, by the way). “Do you have a discount produce section” I asked naively. “In this store? –No.” Later I realized how expensive everything was, it rivaled Korean produce: Everything was at least a dollar. “Note to self: go to China town for groceries” I thought. My bill was $32.38 and the tax was only 52 cents! I marveled at the fact I was marveling at the lack of tax. I guess you know you’re Canadian when you are shocked by low taxes.

I unpacked, ate some humus on bread, and went to sleep on my futon couch. (It took me about a week to figure out how to make it a bed…and still no pillow! That’s been on the top of my shopping list for 12 days).

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