For years I’ve made it clear to people that I don’t particularly like San Fransisco. It’s dirty, bummy, smelly, and I just generally find it unpleasant. Are these good reasons? Probably not. Are they even valid reasons? Probably not. After much convincing, my cousin Michael convinced Dawn and I to come visit him at his pad in Marin (Greenbrae, specifically). And here’s the photographic record proving that, even tough it took (literally) months of planning, we actually went.
Here’s the view from Michael and Kristin’s (his roomate, and our neighbor from the Paso days) balcony. Thats the eastbay (Oakland, I think) on the horizon.
This is Kristin’s cat Lupe. Looks can be decieving. She’s our cat Oliver’s neice (?), but I think her father is the Dark Lord.
Michael and Dawn, Larkspur Ferry.
There is one hell of a wind on the ferry.
North bay- Hippie/Yuppie Country.
It may be hard to tell, but the wind is blowing quite hard. Here I am nearly losing my glasses.
Golden Gate+fog=everyday San Fransisco.
The Bay Bridge and Financial District/Wharf
Alcatraz. Our main goal for this day was to go to, as Connery says, “The Rock.” As usual, poor planning resulted in the damn island being sold out.
That bitch kicks out quite a frothy wake.
This picture is way better, and I don’t feel like deleting the other one.
The ferry was rad. I suggest everyone take a time or two. It’s only $7 each way, cheapasses.
Rolling into the Piers. Still very windy.
Most likely saying something rude and demeaning to my cousin.
North Beach is rad. Immediately prior to this was my first American cab ride.
A stereotypically steep street. Pretty nice day, huh?
Dawn+Chron. We met up with Megan shortly after this, but, as I am new to this whole picture-taking thing, you’ll just have to take my word for it. Everyone (except, possibly Megan) was dissaponted at the lack of the usual Trannys/Prostitutes/Tranny-Prostitutes outside her building.
How can you go to SF and not ride the BART? After a loooong trek around SF, we happened upon the downtown Paul Frank store, minutes before Justin got off work. In lieu of hanging in China Town, we convinced Justin to take the ferry back to Marin with us.
Excellent snap by Dawn on the ferry back. “When the lights… Go Down… On The Citaaay… And the sun shines on the baaayyy…”
Jesus- such a tourist with a sunburn.
Dawn and Kristin (and Michael), Golden Gate Park.
People who live in glass towers shouldn’t throw stones.
Aww, cute- strolling through the Enchanted Forest, perhaps? Nope. Staged cheesyness at the Japanese Tea Gardens.
I get distracted easily.
Two creepy dudes and a tree.
This pic would be so much better if there were no tourists in it. Still good, though.
For some reason, Dawn was obessed with getting Michael to climb over the fence and stand by the little water feature. He did, and regrettably, looks like he’s relieving himself in the river. Classy.
Koi. So coy.
The Haight. Jesus- hippy drum circles galore and counterfeit rolex watches. My own private hell.
Straight up Mrs. Doubtfire.
On the way to the airport in Oakland, we stopped by James’ Berkeley stomping grounds. We got some good food and ice cream, and he took us to this sweet hotel up in the hills. I can’t remeber what it’s called though. The Claremont?
I am pure sleaze.
A good try. This patio had a rad view.
The Enormous Mojito Chronicles.
At the airport. My focus was thrown off after I used the Oakland Airport men’s room.
So that’s pretty much it. I somehow managed to avoid seeing most of my friends that live in SF- sorry guys (especially Shane). But hopefully we’ll be back soon. I don’t hate the City so much anymore.