How the Weekend Was When I Was Not Sleeping

It was a weird weekend - I went to bed before 8pm both days.  I stuffed myself with everything bad without an an ounce of guilt that usually goes with this kind of binges and absolutely nothing could move me to do anything productive.  I still don't know how we managed to drive 2 hours into the city and stay vertical for the entire day on Sunday.  It must be the sun shining so brilliantly shaming us to get out and not waste the day doing laundry if at that.

For some reason, I was craving to go down the coast and hunker down with a really good clam chowder after a spirited hike among the redwoods.  Well, that was my vision.  But what went down was more like this:

The closest we got to the coast was the drive along the clogged-up Fisherman's Wharf where we found ourselves slurping clam chowder at a hole in the wall along the sidewalk.  The calamari was tender and seasoned close to salty - to my taste bud's love.  And we watched tourists shelled out 20 bucks for  2 pound Dungeness crabs.  The experience would have been nicer if we did not end up paying for parking since we thought our stub got validated except the stamp was invisible to the attendant.  Down with the parking at SF!!!

What we saw along the walk to the Farmer's Market at Fort Mason.

 Our hike was among the hipsters in Hayes Valley where people line up for coffee called anything but Starbucks and for an ice cream made from scratch with liquid nitrogen - it wall all unreal, except it was not.  We were down with the whole thing.  I stood on the ice cream line and people-watch the "gentry" walk their vested dogs and ride their pastel bikes in their super skinny jeans.  It was like watching a parallel world - like a hip magazine shoot it or something.

The hippy line at Smitten - I was the crazy one who just went through the line and took the picture.

At the end of the day, it was a far brighter one than if I spent it on bed instead or did the laundry.