I Fart In Your General Direction

Howdy, long lost pals! After a mild hiatus, I'm back to blogging. Pardon my brief departure, but girlfriend got a job! Gone are the days where I traipse about town looking for something to do all day (watch musical dramas at the library). I'm a busy lady these days. So forgive me...

We've been back in our Winnebago for almost a month already and we've adjusted splendidly. Pretty easy change after that dreaded slightly cramped Astro Van, though. It's like we live in a mansion now! Only in our mansion, there's no escaping the farts. Or the PMS...

ANYWAYS. Last weekend was a busy one. After 10 straight days of work (for both of us), Pete tried to convince me to go on a 20 miles bike ride with some of his co-workers. His point: "There will be drinking!". My counter-point: "I can drink right here on our friend's comfortable couch while watching The Wedding Date starring Debra Messing on TBS." I won. And then I fell asleep on said comfortable couch. 

Pete, along with Mark and Mike suited it up and their best reflective gear and booked it to the San Jose Bike Party. 


Thank goodness Jess (Mark's GF) and I stayed behind, because they were running (er...biking) late and our lack of thunder-thighs would have really slowed down the pack. Win-win! 

The following afternoon was a scorcher; our hottest yet with temperatures near 85 degrees. After Austin, that's like patty-cake. But since we got rid of our air conditioner (yes, the one we Pete and our friend Josh oh-so-painstakingly installed on a hot summer day in Austin), it gets muggy in the Winnie pretty easily in hot weather. 

Seriously, though, that AC would have been useless out here in Mountain View. (And a waste of gas to get it here- talk about wind resistance!). Nowadays, we're boondocking (living without hookups), so we don't even have power to run an AC unit. And soon, we'll have additional solar power, and therefore be able to utilize our two vent vans more often (which is all you really need in the Bay Area). 

Also, I'm convinced that if we had that giant AC on our roof during the roadtrip to California, we would have never made it. It's unnecessarily heavy. 

Anyways, that scorching Saturday was spent resting tired muscles, overcoming hangovers and people-watching from open-air bars. We were dressed in our grubbiest as we sauntered through ritzy Palo Alto. 

Sunday brought us to San Francisco. Being that it was Earth Day, obviously we saw a bunch of naked dudes riding bicycles.  I expect that there were some sore grundles. 

Crack kills, y'all. 
Moving on, we perused a small farmer's market and reminisced on what it was like to actually cook (an activity we no longer engage in due to free access to food these days). We miss it...kind of. But cooking ground turkey tacos was never really that thrilling to begin with, so there's not much to miss in our case. 



Afterwards, we hit up the city's Earth Day celebration where we not only saw a Tiny House...


...but also a couple of polar bears struggling to stay afloat on a melting iceberg:


So sad!
From there, it was time for the main event! We headed down the street to the Orpheum Theater where Monty Python's Spamalot was having its final performance of this season's national tour. Based on (rather, "loving ripped off from") the 1975 film, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, this musical is...just plain awesome. Go see it next time. 


More importantly, however, was the fact that my BFF from middle school (and not just any middle school...but The Banner School!) was in the cast. Introducing Jesse Palmer in her national touring debut!


We didn't get much time together, but those few precious moments together are cherished. We've shared a lot of hilarious (but mostly embarrassing) moments together. The middle school talent show, for instance. Aren't those always a hot mess?

After the show, we decided to head towards Little Italy for drinks and dinner. We (Pete) parked the VW bus on a steep decline (which is no small feat, I'll have you know) and before you know it, we had an unmanned motorcycle skidding towards us. 

Mere seconds after parking, we witnessed a dude lay his bike. Thankfully, he was alright. Also thankfully, he was traveling uphill, and therefore his bike lost a crap-ton of momentum and stopped short of our bus by just a few feet. 


Pete and some skateboarding tweens helped the guy move his bike. Overall, it was surreal, but not too icky due to the lack of blood or bodily dismemberment at the scene. 


Before dinner, we sauntered briefly through a waning craft fair and admired all the cutsy little thingy-ma-bobs we'd never really want (or have space for, in fact). 


Afterwards, we popped next door to one of our favorite bars in the city, Vesuvio, for a quick drink. Vesuvio's great for all the cool historic shit they have on the walls in a non-Applebee's sort of way. 


We warmed up on a heated outdoor patio at Calzone's for some bomb Italian cuisine and some excellent side-by-side sitting. (No, we're not an obnoxious couple on our first date. This was the only option). 


A bottle of wine later, we decided we weren't quite done with San Fran so we moseyed over to the oldest bar in city, The Saloon, which recently turned 150 and showcases some of the best blues bands around. 

Back in the day, the two floors above The Saloon operated as a whorehouse, which was frequented by the city's firefighters. The building caught fire as a result of the 1906 earthquake, and those same firefighters made it a point to save their beloved whorehouse. Priorities, people. 

And thus it remains. Local wackadoos, PBR and stellar jams abounded. The cracked-out bartender and friendly saxophonist were a nice touch, too. 



Oh, we'll be back. Maybe I'll even get Pete to dance! (Don't hold your breath, Kara).