Saturday, January 17, 2009

San Francisco: What’s The Damage

We all woke up around 9:30AM in relatively good spirits, all our body parts were still intact and none of us seemed to have suffered any permanent damage to our brain. We counted the evening successful… that is until Mrs. Cutie Pie realized that she had lost her debit card sometime in the night, which resulted in a half an hour frantic search, acceptance that it was missing, remorse at its lost, and then calling the cc company to turn it off. All in all the grieving process was relatively short.

We met up at a great diner that supposedly had amazing breakfast with Mrs. Cutie Pie’s brother. We were unfortunately missing Ms. Partypants who was trying to get rid of the 4 people she had over after they left the club at 4 and the Edward Cullen look alike she hooked up with. Instead of ordering the breakfast that we heard raved about we all ended up ordered sandwiches. I don’t know what came over us but on the drive we decided on a breakfast place and then I decided that I could not go on with life unless I had a burger immediately. I knew a burger would be the best post drinking breakfast, or at least that is what I hoped. After Mrs. Cutie Pie’s brother dropped us back off at the hotel Ms. Partypants was finally ready to swing by and pick us up. Mrs. Bulldog and I were hanging out in the backseat scoping out the scene and I was getting a mini tour of the city sites. Mrs Cutie Pie was struggling to keep her burger down and failed on this side of the bridge AND the other. Pour thing has a sensitive stomach not that Mrs. Partypants erratic driving helped any (she drives like a maniac and that says a lot coming from ME). Thank God when I started hanging out with the OC girls I realized that the part of the night after I had had a lot to drink, when I start to think that “Hey, I can keep up with these guys get me ANOTHER drink” then I know it is time to stop drinking because I have just crossed over into the realm of not being able to make rational choices. These girls can really DRINK and I am such a lightweight that only a few drinks will have me dancing on tables and wishing the next morning that someone had not clubbed me like a baby seal. It has managed to keep me from having a terrible hangover when I can remember to listen to my own saying.

Next we swung by Mrs. Partypants sisters house who has just had a sweet chubby baby boy. As we walk in, three of the four of us just recently married women, our group eyes quickly sweep the room until they land on the bundle of chuckles and rolls. As we all stare at him like a pack of hungry wolves we all start to think about how fast we can get home and start making our own sweet delectable baby. I seem to be having the urge to procreate every time I see a baby, they are like little crack pellets for my unused uterus. MUST STAY AWAY FROM THE CRACK, I am totally not ready for this much responsibility.
After prying ourselves away from the little delightful baby we were off so I could see the Golden Gate Bridge. Since this was the first time I was visiting San Francisco I was super thankful that God answered my prayers and allowed a unfoggy very clear day, something that I hear only happens a 24/365days out of the year. Unfortunately for me, since I usually don’t leave the house unless I am in a skirt and high heels, which makes me totally cool in town but a completely inappropriate dresser for most outdoor occasions, I was very unprepared to climb up the gravel hill to get to the lookout station for the Golden Gate Bridge. My new Aldo boots provided no traction or protection on the gravel and my mini skirt was difficult to keep over my bottom in the blistery winds. I would damn my personal stylist but that would be me and since the boots were damn smoking hot I will damn the men in the city who should have installed cement steps on what is very obviously a route to a VERY popular lookout area.

Going down the hill hurt my unprotected feet ten times worse then going up the hill, it hurt so much I considered leaving my shoes there on the side of the hill and limping down barefoot. And I know that is insanity because I LOVE these shoes, so I continue to march down holding my skirt and gritting my teeth.

Driving under the bridge and looking out the moon roof of the car I was able to capture my favourite shot of the weekend. I really love the red and the blue bold colors and the striking angle of all the lines. This art deco bridge is JUST BEAUTIFUL.

Getting back to the hotel we were pooped; we climbed out of our cloths, turned out the lights, and crashed for two hours. We were napping like three toddlers who had just sung a song ate cookies and were put down on mini pallets. I almost groaned when the alarm went off and we were hustled to get ready to head out for dinner at the sushi restaurant. Again this bar/restaurant like last nights was JAM PACKED with people and so hot you could consider it rivalling the temperature of the sun. The bar was so happening that it did not look like we were ever getting seated so after an hour and two martinis we ditched the sauna sushi bar to go to the “Not so happening sushi bar” right down the street. Here we were immediately sat, the food tasted divine, although I am not sure if it was because this particular chef was amazing or if it was peppered with hunger.

After dinner we took off to go to a bar with a pool table, which after our vote for a quiet wine bar was turned down was my only stipulation that was passed through the rest of the group. We headed off to KT which was another hot and crowded bar with good drinks and surprisingly a lot of really cute men (not that I was looking for me I was scoping out for my very cute eligible single girlfriends). As I gazed around I saw something that caught my eye, 4 times out of 5 the men here seem to be carrying some type of man purse. As I continued to look I was shocked at how many were sporting this unmanly contraption. The murse as Ms. Giggles and I dubbed it were somewhat nondescript small bags slung over muscled shoulders, some had less feminine bags that resembled mini backpacks but we found it all very strange. Like really they were all wearing jeans why couldn’t they just put the wallet and phone in their pockets like the rest of the male race, and if they were carrying a murse and the wallet and phone were in the jeans then what the hell was in the bag? Perhaps they carried spare pairs of boxers, deodorant, mouthwash, and excessive amounts of condoms. I wish I had time to delve into what they were lugging around but my attention was captured by the pool table.

Unfortunately after only a few minutes I got in an argument with a large and stupid man who I swear would have problems counting higher than 10, then I was crabby at the heat in the bar, and then to put icing on the cake I played like dog shit. So despite the dreadfully early hour of midnight when Mrs. Bulldog claimed she was not feeling well I jumped at the opportunity to slink to the hotel and sink into the uber heavenly mattress.

Back in the room we stayed up for two hours gossiping, sharing stories, and basically bitching and moaning, it really felt like a great sleepover and I was so happy we had left the bar. I think I have concluded that life with early twenty something singles is like shaking a bottle of pop and then watching the pressure build right before you open it. So much fun to shake it and open it but not so fun to clean up. I loved visiting but I think if I was going to live this fast paced lifestyle again I will need a few months to train before I jump back into the game.

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