Wednesday, November 30

day 10589 1/2: let’s play a game

It’s easy. Just fill in the blanks:

YOU KNOW YOU’RE GETTING OLD WHEN ______________.

I’ll start.

~ chocolate has become “too sweet.”
~ fried food is “too oily” and you start dabbing at it with a napkin.
~ a Big Mac and fries is “too much” and you’re “ugh… soooo full” from eating half.
~ it no longer makes fiscal sense to go to an all-you-can-eat place because even if you ate all-you-could-eat it would have been cheaper to just order what you wanted in the first place.
~ words like “fiscal” and “responsibility” start working it’s way into your everyday vernacular.
~ the Christmas presents that people ooohhh and aaaahhh over are bowls and wafflemakers and not Transformers ™ and Lego ™.
~ you wake up achy and hurting more days than you don’t.
~ fiber content becomes a key decision making factor when you’re buying granola bars for the homeless guys.
~ your 25 year old boyfriend needs to buy a suit for your office Christmas party because he doesn’t have one.
~ you’d kind of rather just veg at home and watch a chick flick for your b-day than go to a bar and get smashed.
~ it only takes two rounds to get smashed.
~ you don’t even want to think of partying like you used to.
~ the once-upon-a-time looming future is now the not-so-looming present.
~ comparison shopping for toilet paper and canned soup is a FUN thing.
~ the only thing you want for Christmas is an umbrella (a very, very good, and very BIG umbrella, mind you).
~ you realize that by the time your mother was your age, she already had two kids and a house.
~ you start making stupid lists like these instead of writing real posts.

Your turn… humour me…
day 10589: dream on…

Some days I wish I was adopted. Not because I hate my fam (because I absolutely love and adored them and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world), but more so because I hate certain aspects of my life… what it’s become… where it’s not heading… the kind of shit that you start thinking about whenever you’re about to hit another “milestone” where you’re supposed to have accomplished XYZ, but haven’t started working on X. If I was adopted this would be the perfect time for my birth-parents (actually, a secret godfather would be perfect so I could still keep my amazing fam – no hard feelings, eh?) to swoop down from behind the scenes to take me to a sparkling new penthouse condo overlooking the ocean and set me up with a trust fund that will pay for all my hobbies, and then some, so that I would never have to work again.

All the brouhaha with Monkeyco over the past few months has left me feeling rather uneasy and unsettled about my future. I know future with Monkeyco is somewhat limited seeing as how the reasons why I chose Monkeyco over alternate-Monkeyco never managed to materialize. Things got shuffled around, projects got delayed, I lost my drive and ambition to actually accomplish anything beyond surviving to 5:31… let’s just say that long-term with Monkeyco is definitely not in the cards.

Where would I go? What would I do? My history has made me somewhat uncomfortable in certain situations. My memory for accounting principles is shit. I hardly ever know what I’m doing. My once-upon-a-time encyclopedic knowledge of personal tax is no longer relevant (and of course, my memory has gone to shit). Can you see that I have somewhat of an inferiority complex when it comes to my professional life? Reality is I can hold my own, but truthfully, I am no superstar… no matter how hard I try to convince the recruiters otherwise.

It’s not enough anymore for me to live day-by-day and let things happen as they may. I’m already feeling obsolete, wallowing in self-pity. I’ve lost direction again, and lost any ability to get to where I want to go… but then again, I don’t know where I want to go anymore. I don’t even know where I am. Do I suck it up and go back to public practice, working for one of the Tra-La-La-Big-4 for another few years until my inferiority complex is blanketed (as I succumb to being yet another accountant clone), or do I hope for the best and try not to allow myself to be pigeonholed as a finance geek only capable of doing financial reporting or consolidations? Option 1 would be best for my self-confidence, but, in reality (schmassion-take-two-steps-back) this is when people are leaving the firm… not entering the firm. Would I come out only to be where I am today? Option 2… what the heck is option 2… ?

I’m lost. I’m confused.

I hate the week leading up to birthdays. I hate birthdays. I hate getting old.

Fcuk me. I'm almost thirty.

AND. I. STILL. DON'T. KNOW. WHAT. I. WANT. TO. BE. WHEN. I. GROW. UP.

Thursday, November 24

day 10583(?): lost in translation

Apparently your’s-truly-dimwit-here has lost her mind and miscalculated the days-of-our-lives… again. So it’s like I’ve traveled back in time and relived day 10583. I’ve done what countless centuries of scientists have been unable to do and figured out the space-time continuum. Yay me. I rock.

Now someone tell me where I misplaced the gloves I bought last Thursday (and lost on Saturday)… there’s only so much my genius brain can handle.

Wednesday, November 23

day 10583: some days i’m just not all there

It’s obvious that I don’t have enough on my mind when I can sit for a long time contemplating the possibility of taking off my underwear without taking off my pants and boots.

Because you never know when you might need to. Yeah…

Tuesday, November 22

day 10582: bowling schmowling

It’s funny how your imagination can take off with the simple phrase… “I wonder if they make high heel bowling boots.”

One second you're talking bowling... next second, your boy's in drag.

Monday, November 21

day 10581: ma chere ami

Par chance, mon ami when you called the first time, it really was a wrong number. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, told you ever-so-nicely that you had erroneously called me instead of your amie, and politely sent you on your merry-yet-clueless way.

Perhaps you didn’t understand what I was saying. English, we both know, is not your native tongue. But you sounded so jovial and well, hell, anyone can make a mistake, so I forgave you. I put you out of my mind. I do that with wrong numbers. I didn’t even think of you after I hung up.

When you called me again, I was the epitome of patience. I told you again that the number you dialed was incorrect. There was no such person at this number. You apologized. Again, I politely sent you on your merry-yet-clueless way.

Somewhere along the line, it must have happened. Please don’t blame me, mon ami. I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. I have a boy that I really, really like, and if he should find out about this, I really wouldn’t know what he would do. I really don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know what to say to you.

You see, mon ami, somewhere along the line, you must have fallen in love with me. How else do you explain the “wrong numbers” and the “hang ups?” Admit it, you just want to hear the sound of my voice. I question this; the shrill sound of an irritated me repeatedly saying “Hello? Hello?” must get annoying after a while. You must really love me, otherwise, why would you listen to me saying “Who is this?” a few hundred thousand times before you hang up on me.

Be brave, mon ami, and freely admit your love. There is no harm in telling me. At least this way, it will be out in the open, and we can deal with this head on. We can face this issue and deal with the future (albeit definitely NOT together). That way when you call me every few minutes only to hang up or to tell me that “this isn’t my number” I can say something other than “Hello? Who IS this?” Honey, I know this isn’t your number. It’s MY number. And you’re using it a little too freely… I know I have an amazing phone plan, but, Sweetie, you’re still eating up my daytime minutes.

Please stop calling. I know I have the choice not to pick up when I see your number flash before me on my caller ID, but I’ve always been one to hate calling my voicemail, especially when I know who it is. I really don’t want to listen to endless minutes of you asking for your amie – you’re just teasing me then.

I know I’ve broken your heart, but I never want to hear from you again. You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that we are but two souls destined to be apart forever. We shared a second (or a FEW seconds), but we can never be together. Be strong, mon ami. Be strong and put the phone back down.

Don't worry about me. I'll cope somehow.

Yours never,

Schmassion

(ps. Before you jump to any conclusions, I really am a reasonably good conversationalist. I can hold my own in almost every subject-matter. Well, except maybe nuclear physics, thermodynamics, and oh, Canadian politics (who in the heck wants to read up on THAT?). But that really is beside the point. PLEASE. STOP. CALLING.)

Friday, November 18

day 10578: past lives

I was not a nice kid. I mean, I was a nice kid, but not a nice kid.

Get what I mean? No?

I was a kid who was polite, respectful and every adult’s favourite, but I was a bit of a toughie on other kids. I’m not going to use the word bully, because I was never malicious or violently physical with any thoughts of personal gain. My “playful personality” could be interpreted as a little harsher than the sweet and innocent girl that you’d have expected if you had seen me back then.

I was a bit of a tomboy, and it showed in my personality.

I was a bit naïve as to socially accepted norms, and it showed in my personality.

I was a bit naïve about boys, and it showed in my personality.

I’m not excusing myself. I still harbour all sorts of guilt, and if I could find the children of my past, I’d fully apologize for acting like a fcuking jerk/idiot/bully (you fill in the blank).

Consider this a blanket apology. I’m sorry… wherever you are…

Thursday, November 17

day 10577: once more for good measure

Tonight is the last football game. Thank god. I'm tired.

What I wouldn't give for one day to do nothing but sit in a bubblebath, and then by the fireplace all day.

Monday, November 14

day 10574: more incredibly fantastic travel tips by a mainlander


4. what to do-do-doo…hm… part two…

Stargaze. Starlight, star bright, first hundred stars I see tonight… oops… I meant thousand. Mauna Kea (at just over 13,000 ft above sea level) has got to be one of the best places in the world to stargaze. All the lights on the Big Island are a dingy orange so that all the observatories on top of this mountain can have clear unobstructed views of the heavens above. And, because of the proximity to the equator, we could see the stars in the northern hemisphere and the southern hemisphere. Mars on our right, and Venus on our left… of course Venus was brighter, and much more sparkly. If you rent a car… go with the 4x4. It snows up on Mauna Kea.


Snorkel. Yeah, I know I already talked about it. Don’t save it for your last day. You’ll kinda regret not doing a lot more of it. Looking at fish while you’re swimming in a crater with the fishes… it’s like being in a giant aquarium owned by aliens. Turtles, dolphins, flying fish, sharks… oh my. (Gotta save something to see during my next visit!)

Hilo. Skip it. It rains a lot. Base out of Kona if you’re on the Big Island, rent a car and meet up with your lava touring adventure group somewhere else. Trust me on this one. There’s really not much to do there except going to the farmer’s market, which btw is not open on Veteran’s Day. “I never liked the rain ‘til I walked in it with you.”

Buy a vacation home on Maui. I’ll be your BFF. I promise…


5. wildlife

“Feed the birds, tuppence a bag…” Ok, don’t feed the birds. Nene are some goose-type bird that’s supposedly highly endangered. It’s no wonder… given that they just walk around the mountain roads aimlessly and get run over by the lemming tourists. Why did the birdie cross the road? It didn’t… it just sat there. According to Posie, all birds are nene. Dumb birds.

Deer. No joke. There are actually deer crossing signs in Wailea. Apparently, someone (a whaler, trader, adventurer?) brought over five deer for some king way back when. Well, these deer were really prolific, and now Maui has over 5,000 of those things that randomly jump out on roads just to surprise people. Boo!

Cows. Watch out for the cattle guards on the road. Cattle guards are weird metal grates that go from one side of the narrow winding road to the other. I have no idea how they’re supposed to guard cattle, but it’s a weird sensation to drive over… especially if you’re going pretty fast. Yeah, there are cows wandering the roads too. I don’t think Maui has fences. Oh, and beware the invisible cow.

Midges. Some type of flying bug that dies when it lands on your car (I’m not sure why). It’s pretty gross when you get back from the beach and your car is covered with thousands of them. Thank goodness it only happened once. Ew. *shudder*

Sharks. Apparently, you only have to worry about the tiger sharks. Hammerheads and reef sharks will swim up to you when you’re kiteboarding or surfing and all you have to do is punch it and it’ll go away. They only feed at dusk and dawn. You don’t usually have to worry about sharks unless the water is cloudy and there’s little visibility or you’re doing something stupid like swimming through chum or swimming where a bunch of sharks are feeding off a dead whale. I say just avoid them altogether and don’t believe everything that you hear from your kiteboarding instructor who is trying to placate you after your anxiety attack brought on by your close encounter with a shark (ok, so it might have been a rock… who knows…).

Locals. Most are friendly to strangers and they don’t bite. At least, I don’t think they do, except maybe into your bank account. Give them a friendly “Aloha” and go on your merry way. Most of the time, they’ve already pegged you for a tourist so they’re all set to fleece you anyway.


TIP… TIP… TIP… (remember this if nothing else)… locals get DISCOUNTS on EVERYTHING (as high as 50%)... if you tan really nicely on your first couple of days there, and you tell them you’re from Oahu or some other island, and they actually believe that you’re a local without ID’g you, you’re golden. Billabong, Roxy, Quiksilver for 50% off MSRP… wicked. Apparently, I look like a local. But no, we didn’t try this. They just assumed… must be the hair… and the billions of tan lines… wicked cool…

6. all that and a bag of chips…

Photos. Take lots of pictures. A hundred pictures of the same thing (from a slightly different angle) is probably good enough to start (hence, bring the extra memory sticks or portable hard drive). Don’t forget to look up once in a while so that you’re not run over by a car, or you don’t drive over the edge of a cliff (photoing and driving don’t really mix). Don’t be afraid to climb up on things to take pictures if you’re too short to see over the heads of the other lemming tourists. Old white men don’t like it when a girl is standing on six foot high lava rock walls, and will offer endlessly to help her down (even if she is a climber). Then again, sometimes climbing up on things doesn’t necessarily give you a better picture… it just lets you see what’s going on because you weren’t aggressive enough to push to the front of the line. Game time: find Posie in this sea of lemming tourists…


ps… learn how to use your camera before you get there… thus avoiding… “How can I take a picture of those stars?” and “Damn, these pictures look washed out!” and “Argh! Why is my horizon always slanted?” Most often times, though, it’s not the camera. It’s you.

Lemming tourists. Finally… the definition… There is a phenomenon called Lemming Tourist Syndrome. This is when you’re driving along and you see a bunch of cars pulled over to the side of the road with tourists taking pictures of some unknown object, so you stop your car, get out so that you can see what you would have missed if you hadn’t seen the bunch of cars on the side of the road. Just because you didn’t want to miss anything. (FYI, this term was coined by someone else in relation to lemmings that hurl themselves over a cliff just because the one in front does it.) Chances are, you’re not really missing all that much. Yes, we were guilty of it too, but we caused our own fair share of it as well. ;)

7. "did you know that in hawai'i, aloha means hello and goodbye"

Yo, I don’t know what else to say. There are a billion stories and a trillion details. It was a fab trip and I'm glad I went with such a wicked, awesome, cool travel buddy. I have a ton of pics that I have yet to weed through, maybe someday I’ll post a little more.


Aloha.

Sunday, November 13

day 10573: how to (or not to) do hawai'i (aka travel tips by a mainlander)



1. what to (or not to)bring

Sunscreen - BRING. From a person who now has a billion tan lines, I can't emphasize this enough. It isn't becoming to have a v-shaped tan line from the day you forgot while hiking Haleakala, one from your bikini, one from your tank top, one from your shorts, one from your surf shorts, one from your socks, one from your sandals... oh, and one from your bling. And it's not enough just to bring it. Wear it. I forgot... ouch crispy! For great aftercare, use Hawaiian Blend Aloe After Sun Lotion. This stuff is amazing. Instead of lobster red, I'm golden brown... different shades of course. Dumb tan lines...

Beach mats - DON'T BRING. It's a waste of luggage space. There's always going to be a K-mart, Walmart or Costco. Find one. Buy mats there and toss them when you're done. It's $1.99. Chump change. Just think of all the shopping I could have done had I more luggage space.

Camelback - BRING. It comes in handy on the many death marches that you'll be doing while hiking the lava flows or to the cinder cones. The sun is hot in Hawai'i. It's even hotter when you're hiking across miles and miles of rugged (SHARP!)black lava rock with steam venting at you, no shade... and actual molten lava under the rocks you're walking on. Red, burnt, crispy, puffy face pictures (from sun, heat,and dehydration) do not make for good pictures... especially if the adventure group you went with took pictures of you for their website. You'll just look hot, and not in the sexy kind of way.


Memory sticks for your digicam - BRING. You'll be taking a million pictures of the sunrise, sunset, water, beach etc. Guaranteed. It sucks if you run out of memory, and you'll get ripped off by a shop that sells duds on Fisherman's Wharf (San Fran...) and have to buy a new one. Luckily, it's cheaper in Maui. Consider bringing a portable hard drive. Between Posie and myself, we took more than a gig of pictures. That's a lot of pictures.

2. getting there

Fly. Unless you want to go by boat. But that will take a very, very, very long time. The Pacific Ocean doesn't look that big on a map, but trust me on this one... it's BIG.

Once there, rent a car. In Maui, try to get a 4x4 if you plan on driving the road to Hana. Sure, it's a little more expensive, but you'll feel much, much better when you're trying to navigate the winding, narrow roads with single lane bridges and blind corners. That way, if you feel "adventurous" enough to drive the 5 miles of gravel on the road from Hana (the one that the tour books tell you not to do... i.e. the one that the rental company technically forbids you from doing) which, btw, has the same winding, narrow roads with single lane bridges and blind corners... you won't slide out when making sharp turns because you're driving fast because you want to keep up with the car in front of you. And you do want to keep up with the car in front of you. Especially in late afternoon when the sun is setting, because with the sun in your eyes, and the dust from the road, you're lucky if you can see the tail lights of the car in front; nevermind a car that's coming towards you on the narrow road with the single lane bridges. Get the 4x4. We were ghetto and didn't have one. I think I might take up rally car racing as my next hobby. Fun.


3. staying there

Stay here. I love Mike. Mike is a lot of fun. Mike is great. Mike got up at 4:30am to pack hot coffee and fresh scones for us to take with us to watch the sunrise on Haleakala. Without Mike (and his hot coffee), I don't think I would have survived the drive and the cold to see this (I swear this is not photoshopped)...


Note, Mike's is a little out of the way for most other places. It's half way up the mountain to Haleakala, so bonus, we only had to drive an hour to see the sunrise instead of two hours like all the other lemming tourists.

4. what to do-do-doo...hm

Beach. White sand, black sand, red sand, grainy sand, no sand... there are a heck of a lot of beaches in Maui. Some of them are really nice. Some of them not so nice. Some places say they have a beach and they really don't. Shame on them. You'll find beaches everywhere where you least expect them - even in the store that sells everything gecko.


Hike. Walking around in scorching heat is no fun. Walking around in scorching heat with no shade in sight and in high altitudes is no fun. Bring a lot of water, some gatorade, a couple of energy bars, a pair of good shoes that you won't be able to wear again once you melt them on hot lava rock, and you're set to go. It's a tough little stroll sometimes (hence, aka death march) and definitely not a walk in the park (although, technically, you are walking, and you are in a park... hm). But be strong and suck it up. It's well worth the effort when you get to see what's inside this cinder cone... you'll have to hike it to find out.


While hiking, be sure to pay attention to the trail and your surroundings. It's no fun "skiing" down calf deep sand because you took the path less travelled... Oh, and bring a rainjacket (and hiking boots) for the hikes off the Road to Hana. Apparently rain is normal in a rainforest, and more rain makes the waterfalls more "picturesque" and less trickle-y. Who knew?

Surf, snorkel, blah, blah blah. I don't surf. There are sharks in the ocean. Did I mention my aversion to being eaten by a shark? I only tried snorkeling for the first time today. Apparently, someone from our boat charter saw a shark this morning while we were in the water... snorkeling. While I was in the water... snorkeling. Guess who's not a happy camper... I think I would have freaked completely if I saw it. Never mind my mind playing tricks on me while I was doing this... (it COULD have been a rock that touched me, but I swear I was in too deep for rocks)


Note. That is NOT me. I'm not that good. Not even close. I just get dragged behind the kite. Literally. And no, I'm not about to post a picture of me drowning as the waves crash over my head. No way, no how.

Rally car race. Just joking. Road to Hana. 'Nuff said.

Luau. It's cool. It's entertaining. Poi tastes really bad (no, it doesn't help if you eat it with paniolo steak, guava glazed chicken, or even banana bread... I tried all the combinations... it just tastes really bad), kalua pig is overrated, but mmm... hula boys... very niiice. Very much a hokey tourist trap, but hey, it's nice to walk in and (almost) instantly handed a mai-tai and then being lei'd. Did I say mmmm... hula boys... ALOHA!



... to be continued...


Aloha. Time for bed. More travel tips tomorrow...

Wednesday, November 9

day 10569: aloha

I'm in the middle of a rainforest on Hawai'i... there's a volcano somewhere behind me... an ocean somewhere in front of me. It's a rough, rough life I'm leading. I'm jealous and I'm here.

Early morning drives up winding scary dormant Haleakala to see an unreal sunrise. Death march through volcanic landslides to see the inside of a cinder cone. Near death experiences on the Road to Hana. Brush with death with SHARKS while kiteboarding...

So many stories, so many pictures. I promise to post as soon as I find a USB cable... and another internet connection. Hopefully, hopefully, the pictures will be able to do justice.

Aloha babes. :)

Friday, November 4

day 10564: dan the man from the ham


Dan the Man is in the music industry. Dan the Man is from the Ham. Dan the Man is into surfing… which was the line Dan the Man used when Dan the Man tried to pick me up in a Safeway. He gave me his business card. I kid you not, it says “Dan the Man.” So, if anyone in the SF Bay area needs a piano-singer songwriter that plays the synth-keyboard and is available for lounge grooves, special events, private parties, national anthems, and concerts… um… let me know. If it does anything for you, he rides a “bike”… um… ok, so really, it’s a scooter… and apparently, I’ve become a snob.

[ed note: WHAT ARE LOUNGE GROOVES?]

Thursday, November 3

day 10563: i think i got issues…


You know the saying… ”there’s a sucker born every minute.” I think I’m the sucker for my minute and am still not convinced that I wasn’t scammed this afternoon.

It all started yesterday when I decided to get my artistic butt in gear and start figuring out how to use my camera. Yes, it IS one of those idiot-proof digi-cams, but hey, I’m a techron, remember? …technological moron… ? me and technology… we don’t mix. Actually, me and cameras have been bad news together ever since I left my dad’s old Minolta in a bathroom at a pit stop in Germany. That was a sad, sad day in Schmassion history. Schmassion famille has yet to recover but that’s another story I’ll save for a more depressing day. Anyway, with f-stops, apertures, white balance etc etc confusing the crap out of me, I ended up filling up my first 128mb memory card with things that while I don’t necessarily think they’re all that great, I loathe to delete them. Ah, San Francisco…

Need I remind you that my vaca has only just begun? I still have nearly two weeks of pictures to take and the glorious vistas of paradise Hawaii beckon a heck of a lot stronger.

So off I went in search of more memory… to… are you ready for this... Fisherman’s Wharf.

I.

Am.

The.

Genius…

… who goes to tourist spots to shop. (I will bend over now so someone can fcuk me up the ass.) “Really, how stupid can you get?” you must be thinking. Well. Duh. Pretty stupid, apparently. Actually, the price for the memory card was not too bad. Cheaper than Canada but probably a little high for the US, I wasn’t desperate enough to shop around and comparison shop for a $5 differential. I know I could have done better, but hey, opportunity cost… I was already running a wee bit late for dinner. Mmmm… Souffle…

It wasn’t until the salesperson asked to see my camera that the trouble began. Oh, and I mustn’t forget the small talk...

‘Where are you going? Hawaii? Oh, beautiful… you’ll have a lot of fun there… you know, you have a good camera here. You should consider getting a new lens for your camera…”

Stop. Right. Here.

Or, at least I should have.

Instead, I let him prattle on and on about how my Hawaii pictures would be oh-so-much better if I only had a wider lens, and oh, look how this lens can take macro pictures too. Didn’t want to take good quality scenery pictures in Hawaii? It’s a trip of a lifetime…

So I bought it… on impulse. I bought the memory stick and bought the darned lens for a combined low, low price of $189 plus tax.

I have yet to take a single picture with it… Kinda thinking that I was scammed… kinda… sorta…

~



hmmmms…

~ There are a heck of a lot of hills in this city… it’s not really old people friendly, is it?

~ “You get what you want out of it, if you put more of yourself into it…” I thought he was talking about sightseeing. He was talking about God. I was confused.

~ I found fish tacos. They were ok.

~ Strawberry margaritas for lunch is a good thing.

~ There are a heck of a lot of hills in this city…

~ There is a Starbucks on every corner when you’re not in dire need of caffeine, but when you actively go hunting for a Starbucks, they all go into hiding.

~ The Bushman only appears when you’re NOT looking for him.

~ Day two in San Fran… and I think I know the streets better than the Sista does.

~ Is it strange that I was extremely disappointed when I went to FAO Schwartz and found out that it had closed down?

~ There are a heck of a lot of hills in this city… maybe I should take a bus tomorrow instead of hoofing it from one end to another… Financial District to Union Square to Chinatown to Washington Square to Coit Tower to Lombard Street to Fort Mason to Fisherman’s Wharf back to Financial District…

Wednesday, November 2

day 10562: san francisco bay

I met the Bushman. Ok. So I didn't really meet him, just got freaked out of my mind by him. He made me spill my chai for the second time today when he jumped out at me from behind his "bush"... hence the Bushman.

Note to self... must learn not to be startled so easily...

The best part of being on vacation is not having to actually do anything. I can go sightseeing if I feel like it. But heck, if I just feel like lounging around in my underwear all day typing out God-knows-what while staring out to a fantastic view of some part of San Francisco, well, I could just do that too. I’m free, even of the obligation to “make the most of my time.” Sightseeing, schmightseeing…

At the moment, I don’t feel like doing anything. I’m relaxing after a long day of walking around town and hiking up the hills. My belly is full after a day of pigging out on obligatory San Franciscan foods. I’ve done the vegan burritos, the “best” hamburgers in the world, the obligatory clam chowder, and a really nice strawberry, lemon and sugar crepe to top it off. It won’t take a psychic to tell me that this trip will be bad for my waistline.

It’s been a long day, but I don’t feel like sleeping. No agenda, no plans means that tomorrow will bring what tomorrow brings. The only thing I want to accomplish sometime on this trip is to search out some really good Mexican food. Toronto, multicultural though it may be, is definitely lacking in a semi-decent fish taco. What I wouldn’t give for a good fish taco. Hm, a stop at In-N-Out may be in order as well… just for old times sake, ya know. I think my closet foodie-ness might be reemerging (except for the In-N-Out bit).

Do-do-doo… hm… what to do… what to see?

Tuesday, November 1

day 10561: leaving on a jet plane

Off to San Fran and Hawaii for a couple of weeks... check back in a bit. Will try to update... maybe...


... leaving on a jet plane... Posted by Picasa