To what do we owe this life?

I've had a a really rough week, emotionally. I can't really say what triggered the unknown sadness but it just came upon me sometime Sunday and then got worse Monday, Tuesday, etc. Last night, I actually thought about the S word. Yikes! I haven't thought of that in a very long time. And yes, I am taking my multivitamins which are supposed to be mood enhancers. No, it is not part of the vacation withdrawal, though I earnestly wish it was. I don't know what it is.

It started actually last weekend. I had a very unaccomplished weekend. Even though I found myself in upstate New York (don't ask), I was not elated. The weather was glum and all around me were earnest achievers. I was once like that and all that I achieved didn't really make sense or help to lift me from my constant state of glum. So I chucked it up to nothing and kept on going. Then, I came back to Atlanta. Happy to reunite with my car and actually be mobile. That always brings a smile to my face. I don't care where you are, if you are not mobile you suddenly feel lost. I do anyway. Here in Atlanta. No matter where I go. Upstate New York where the weather is glum or Los Angeles where the weather is sunny and refreshing, or even Philly where the crime is at an all-time high, no matter where, I always feel a sense of "What the heck is this place?" whenever I land in Atlanta. I am not making this shit up.

Mood Shifter No. 1.

I didn't go to church which I should have done. But I went and used the last bit of money I had to get my hair braided. The braider didn't do such a good job. Whatever job they do, you still have to pay them. That's just how it is. In the end, I spent all day in there, famished beyond recognition and was still not happy with the hairstyle.

Mood Shifter No. 2.

The biggie came. I went to eat and had an interesting meal. Amazing conversation with someone. Really charming fucker I ran into. I found myself laughing, uncontrollably. However, I will never see this person again. How do I know, because I know now that's how it works. It's always been like this in this place. No matter how much I will to see them again, or will that my luck will change, which I secretly pray that it will, I have come to accept the opposite. Which is sad but true. Why can't I see them again? Why can't I get to laugh again? If I could only have this chance to laugh again, perhaps I wouldn't be so glum, don't you think?

Mood Shifter No. 3.

There you have it folks. 3 Significant Mood Shifters. Then, there are things at work and with my "friends" that just irk me. Then, I stupidly watched My Lovely Bones which was god-awful and utterly depressing. Don't ever watch this if you are in a sensitive state like I am.

A whole mess of things that you think would lighten the fuck up but they don't. I've thought of a couple of things to shake me from my mood, like go to the movies, go shopping, go drinking, do some writing, do anything. None of them seem like they would work. I haven't tried them but they don't seem all that appealing to me either.

I know it will pass and I will soon get back to my giggly self. I know that, Yes, it will wane. However. It remains. Though waned. Though subdued. It remains.

Blog Ado About Nothing

I've been meaning to blog about my vacation trip since it's usually the epitome of my solo adventures but I was immediately immersed in some work stuff when I returned and some other computer issues that I really had no time to crank up my old PC and start to write. Plus, I knew that anything I would write in a hurry would not do the trip justice but if I didn't do it sooner rather than later my recollection of all the wonderful, amazing scenery, food, people, and encounters would be soiled by all the awful bland Atlanta stuff and I would hate for that to happen.

Whenever I return from vacation, because I am on this high while out there in appreciation of a life outside Georgia, I immediately fall into this funk once I return made even more deplorable by my realization of my single state (this rarely occurs to me while vacationing, I wonder why). So in an effort to pull myself out of this funk I shall document my adventures and in order to make sure I don't lob it into one long wordy boring entry, I shall take it in bits, each day shall be a different entry of its own, and I shall try not to leave anything out. I hope I don't forget anything. This would be easier if I had my laptop with me during my sojourns but I am old skool - I only just got a digital camera. Hah!

EDIT: Vacation Update added and back-dated. So go back to older entries so you don't miss a beat.

Vacation Blues

I've been meaning to blog about my vacation trip to San Francisco and Los Angeles earlier this month. But for a lot of reasons I haven't been able to. One, my iMac's keyboard died on me, so I've had to crunk up the old Dell laptop. Two, I had a work thing I needed to study for so I dedicated the following week, not quite coming down from my high, studying. Three, the good ole' vacation blues. I look at the pictures now and I think, maybe that happened to someone else not me. Looking at Georgia now just makes me feel so ugh! I really need to get out of here. Then, being proud of my accomplishments, that is travelling alone to all those wonderful places (well, places I thought were wonderful), one of my old co-workers sent an email asking for subscribers to her travel blog as she plans to tour Europe and Africa this summer. YES! She just had to rub it in, aye! Ummph!

So here I am. Cloud 0, but still need to update the world comprising of one lowly reader of my adventures. I just want to document it for myself just in case I forget. I never forget. The last time I went to S.F was 3 years ago almost to the day. I specifically planned it that way. I remembered everything from that trip. I remembered my way around certain parts of the city, certain things I saw, certain restaurants were surprisingly still there, even certain funny bits like the guy that plays a guitar underneath the Ghirardelli Building, and the guy that drew my caricature portrait, they were both still there. Isn't that amazing? You think all this time has passed and they would have left but they were actually there. I got to see things I didn't get to see the first time around, like the Golden Gate Bridge, the incomparable ferry ride to Sausalito, Napa wine country where I indulged in a little fine dining Napa style, and of course, a local San Francisco Bar. You know me, I just had to get a taste of the local shenanigans. I also made some "friends" which I hope to reconnect with the next time around, like my tattoo artist, Nakona who is a San Franciscan and gave me these killer directions to the Golden Gate Bridge and a few other locals too. It was fun to the Nth degree. The last couple of days were marred by my allergies but I still managed to get it together. I always do.

Time by myself, exploring by myself is always so peaceful. I am not fighting with anyone. I am not competing with anyone. I am not being judged by anyone. I am just me in a space I want to be seeing what I want to see, eating what I want to eat, discussing and laughing with utter strangers. I just wish I could do it all the time (or at least most of the time) but alas, real life beckons.  

California suits me.

I am back from a one week vacation to San Francisco (Napa and Sausalito) and Los Angeles.

California suits me. The weather, the carefree sunny lifestyle, the endless possibilities, the scenic breathtaking landscapes, the beach and the sun and all that diversity being embraced and celebrated. Then, there's the food. The food.

Every time I go on vacation I am always secretly hoping that something happens while I'm there that would cause me to stay there. wherever there is. That there would take me away from all this. It would present the answer, the solution to this burning question. It could be anything. Some kind of vacation romance (like in the movies) or a job opportunity, or a life changing event. But alas, I return and nothing happens. Close to the last day when I realize that I may have missed the mark, I start to experience vacation withdrawal and just go into this pith of disappointment. That's where I am now so forgive me if I don't write.

San Fran and L.A. later

I am back!

Now suffering from vacation withdrawal. Everything in Atlanta pales in comparison with everything elsewhere, especially in California. It's like two different countries. I had a few ups and downs but it was a good, fun trip. So much good food, good wine, good looking people, people without Southern accents, hippie styled people, happy people, free people, people that may not be free but seem to look free, outgoing and outlandish people, celebrity people, beautiful scenery, breathtaking scenery, landscaping so amazing I am in awe. I would do it over in a heartbeat and this time I would do certain parts of it even better, louder and freer. I will take what I have for now and relish it immensely.

Eat. Explore. Love.

A better update is coming...I am still making the blatant comparisons in my head.

Day Five, San Francisco (Napa) Spring 2010

Saturday, April 10th.

Hungover. Tired. Trip to Napa and Sonoma County planned. Doing the wine tour with the bus. Cheesy, I know, but it's a start. I thought we'll test the waters with a crew to see how the wine country looks and if it looks good enough then I'll probably do it again. One my own in my own vehicle.

The day didn't start off as planned. The bus arrived on time and I was somewhat ready. Except I was hungover from last night's debauchery plus I had allergy eye, also known as Pink Eye. Pink Eye and hungover headaches really don't mix. Worse was the fact that I was going to do some more drinking today, a more sophisticated kind, but alcohol nonetheless. I couldn't let it get me down, This was a once in a lifetime opportunity that had cost me a pretty penny so pink eye be damned I'm heading to Napa.

We left at a little after 9 am.  As we drove, the scenery was not like I imagined. It was comprised of fields and mountains filled with grape fields. The first stop was to Madonna Estates with their organic grapes.We were told that this would be the only place that would give us a lecture about the wine-making experience. The other 2 stops would just let us have the wine without taking us through all their rigmarole. That's what I want. I really was in no mood to hear how the grapes were plucked and all that shit, not today with my eyes throbbing.

Madonna Estates quickly handed us a glass of wine as we walked through the door, instructing us not to drink it yet. I soon learned that this was as far as their generosity would go. The wine tasted smooth and sweet, with no tangy after taste. I don't know if that had anything to do with the fact that it was all organically grown. Because it was still morning, the weather was rather cold, something in the low 50's. The tour guide lady kept us outside in the field beside the grapes so we can observe (and not touch as she kindly pointed out as if we were kids) the grapes on their stems. I didn't really care for this. I was freezing. Even though I was dressed for the drop in temperature I really would rather just stay inside. Also, there was this condescending tone of the people at Madonna Estates, for one, their pours were smidgens, guaranteed it was still morning, but none of us was driving; two, they kept telling us how superior their wine was because it was "organic", and then, 3, she kept instructing us on how to sip the wine, how to swirl it in a glass, how to "safely" uncork the bottle. Who doesn't know this? We are here because we are wine connoisseurs of some kind not just a couple of vacationers dedicating our precious vacation time to listen to you babble.

We left soon after and headed to our next stop.

I forgot to mention the interesting group of people that happened to be travelling with me. There were young couples here and there and older ladies here and there. There was a family from France, with their 2 small children about 5 and 7. The children were so well-behaved. The older ladies turned out to be a group of childhood friends vacationing together. A couple of students from the university and then, an engineer from Germany on a seminar who had nothing better to do after the seminar was over. There was me of course, a single young lady and then, there was this particular group of  girls, young girls all foreigners from Brazil and Hungary, who now live and work in SF. Not surprising is they had the same motives I had. Lets get on this bus and drink as much wine as possible and have as much fun as possible. That early in the morning when you encounter people that are that pumped to party it's a little off-putting, so the entire bus spent the first couple of hours, staring and whispering about them as we drove to our destination. As the day wore on, I was the first person to appreciate their motive (plus my eye didn't seem to be bothering anybody so hey, I relaxed a little) so I clung onto them and we gossiped about the Madonna Estate "Principal" as I termed her. By the end of the day with everyone reasonably inebriated, we all joined them to sing along to Beatles tunes and just generally cause a racket at the back of the bus.

The next stop was Sutter Home winery. Sutter Home, unlike most wineries in Napa and Sonoma County, offers complimentary wine tastings. Most wineries in the region charge for it. I just thought to myself, when I paid for this wine tour I thought we would explore rare wine, wines that I'd never heard of, that charge for their wine tastings; "not complimentary and can be bought at Wal-Mart" type wines. At this point I was beginning to see how much of a rip off this whole thing was. Yes, and my eye was still throbbing.

The good thing about Sutter Home was that even though they had a little lecture on how they were at the forefront of the whole "White Zinfandel" movement, they didn't pinch on their samples. Generous pours along with an assortment of hors' d'oeuvre's in their store, chips and salsa, bread bits and black pepper vinegar, and cheese based olive oil, etc. Not the regular cheese charcuterie but an assortment of nibbles that helped to soak up the wine. This made up for my slight disappointment at the other winery. I ended up enjoying their winery completely.

Next stop was lunch at the Yountville town center where we had about 2 hours to eat lunch and return to the bus. The nicest restaurant I could find at the town center (which didn't really have much) was Bottega. I know, I have such high taste. A couple of my fellow wine tourists picked this restaurant as well so I wasn't the only picky eater. The engineer from Germany (who was on an expense account I am sure) and the family from France.

Bottega was strictly fine dining Napa style. I couldn't understand half of the menu items, in fact almost all of them. And the bartender was in too much of a hurry or just didn't give a shit enough to want to explain them to me. I thought if I am going to pay upwards of $20 for a meal, I need to know what it is and I need to know if I will enjoy it. He really didn't care. So I stuck to what I know, the calamari, which comprised of about 10 pieces and cost $10, at a cost of $1 a piece. The wine list was extensive being that this is Napa where the wine is grown, I would expect nothing less. However, I stuck with beer. The two gentlemen diners beside me who were out celebrating one's birthday reprimanded me for my drink selection. "You don't come to Napa and drink beer," they said with a chuckle, fearing that I was unenlightened. I coughed up that I was on the wine tour so I had already had my fill of wine with plenty more to come. I thought the beer would serve as a good change of pace (plus it was a lot cheaper) They gave me some pointers on what wineries to visit. I explained that this was not up to me, the tour company decided this. If it were up to me I wouldn't have chosen any of the wineries we visited so far.

After my calamari I was still noticeably hungry and in need of real food but not wanting to expand my wallet any further, I filled up on the starter bread and butter, plus it came with sparkling mineral water (complimentary). I eventually asked for dessert when I saw another diner eating something that looked utterly scrumptious. My selection did not turn out that way and was a teeny tiny bit of chocolate cake with little bitty ice cream. Oh, I could kill the folks at Bottega.

I talked some more with the gentlemen to pass the time. I could have sworn one of them looked like an actor. The creepy guy in that M. Night Shymalan movie - Girl from the River or something. They talked about Hollywood movies a lot too, about budgets and financing and what movies are still looking for financing. So it may very well have been an actor. Talking to them was the high point of my day at Napa and reinstated my love of fine dining. You always end up talking to the most sophisticated people and they treat you like their peer. I love it!

I forgot myself, lost track of the time and almost missed the bus. I know scary. Negative part of travelling alone. No one on the bus knew my name. I mean there was a roster but unless there was a head count at some point, no one knew who I was or how to reach me. If I was with someone at least one of us would make the bus and wait for the other. But I digress. Nothing that dramatic happened. I waved the driver down as he was reversing and gave him the stare down that said, "How dare you leave me in this expensive town?"

Onwards to Cline Cellars winery. Our last stop. Yet another winery with complimentary wine tasting. Just how cheap is the tour bus company. Yes, that cheap. Cheaper than me I see. At this point we all relaxed. They brought out a bench and let us sit there and just sample as much as possible. We asked questions, drank, tasted a couple of the favorites more than once. It was very low-key. A sharp contrast to the setting at Madonna Estate where we all had to stand still and listen to that lady "lecture" us on wine at 10 in the morning.

This was the point where I sat with the raucous bunch and we ended up talking about what brought us to Napa this faithful Saturday. We even ended up hijacking the bottle that they would have thrown out for "our open Bar" concept. It was hilarious. Cline I had never heard of but their wine was good. They even had this reasonably priced Rose that I so would have bought if I didn't have to travel the next day.  I don't think I've seen Cline wines in the grocery store. The girls bought a bottle to drink in the bus, but at this point I was pooped on alcohol I needed food and some drugs for my eye.

So we drove home. Past the rolling hills, the various nameless wineries, Coppola's house on the hills, the Golden Gate bridge and the foggy mores. This was my last full day in San Francisco, I had an early flight to Los Angeles the following day. I stopped at Fisherman's wharf and bought a couple of souvenir gifts for my family. Had dinner at the Hyatt restaurant over there. A big chicken sandwich with lots of fries which I finished and got some eye drops for my throbbing eyes. I was just so shocked no one noticed my red eye. They actually thought I was a fun, adventurous, ballsy person.  

It all sort of worked itself out in the end, as it should:

The food, the wine, the company, the weather, everything. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Day Four - San Francisco Spring 2010

Friday, April 9th 2010.

Moved hotels from The Majestic to Marina Inn. Marina Inn is in upper Pacific Heights and a lot closer to Fisherman's Wharf. The original plan was to spend the weekend in Napa, but Napa is really rather expensive with little or nothing to do (so I've heard), so Marina Inn it was. I got there early and left my bags at the door and headed over to the Union Street Shops to have breakfast and do some sightseeing.

The Union Street Shops were not bad at all. It was more like a trap. I had to convince myself not to shop or stop shopping. I ended up buying some earrings and (really) resisted buying some scarfs. Had a breakfast sandwich at La Boulange de Union  and it was quite possibly one of the best cold chicken sandwiches I have ever had. I don't know what it was, maybe the parley snips, or some type of sauce, but it tasted so darn good. I wish I had more. Suddenly, it made everything all better. If only all my breakfast meals had started off this good. I knew I was on to something good when I got there and it was crowded, packed. I sat outside and enjoyed my sandwich whilst browsing the pretty passers by. The men were all ripped and nicely tanned as they walked their dogs. The women were all nicely primped and exotic looking as they did nothing but chat (gossip) with other nicely primped ladies and walk their cute dogs. I was beginning to like this. Pity it was about coming to an end.

Shopping. More Shopping. Stopped for Pastries at an Irish Pastry store. Had the best shortbread cookies I've had in a long time. So much Al Fresco dining going on I was tempted to join them again even though I was not really hungry. Stopped at Perry's and had a nice beer and some fries. Unhealthy, I know but in all honesty I had been walking all day and more to come, so I needed that day time drink to boost me. Perry's was not all that great, a tad expensive and the bartender was also pissed that I didn't come to have lunch. Saw some men enjoying this drink that was made with spices, I forget the name, it's supposed to help with hangovers - (psst...it's called a Bloody Mary). He offered me a sip but I politely passed on tasting that awesome delicacy. Sat for a bit and continued with my walk. Walked until it was 3.30, sweltering and time to check into the hotel.

Checked in and just as I suspected Marina Inn was a dud. Should have really stayed where I was at The Majestic. It was considerably cheaper, bigger and less antiquidated than Marina Inn. Too late now, isn't it? Did some quick unpacking and headed out. I had planned to walk towards the curvy road on Lombard Street, take some pictures and then, head over to Fisherman's Wharf, in time for happy hour and some more sightseeing.

Lombard Street.

When you see the pictures you think, it's just a curvy road, all these twists and turns. Nothing fancy. But it's such an arduous task to get to this curvy road. There are no less than 3 steep hills to climb up to Lombard just before it descends right at Lombard. It was a hot, sunny day and I was dressed in my day to night warm attire so I was considerably sweating. I had also been doing a lot of walking earlier on Union Street, so my energy level was not that high. Nevertheless, I had to see it for myself. As I stopped after the first bridge, I bumped into this couple who had arrived from New Jersey, stopping in SF for a couple of days to see their friend before heading out to San Diego. We made the climb to Lombard together and talking to them made it a little painful.

At each hill, we stopped and took pictures that would commemorate how high we'd climbed. They were also planning to head over to Fisherman's Wharf and then to Alcatraz on the nightly tour. We talked as we walked and were instantly amused at the San Franciscans that swiftly passed by us on the hilly climb. I thought, they must all have firm thighs in this city.

We made it, out of breath and hopefully several burnt calories later, there it was. Crowded is an underwhelming description. Every type of tourist was there. Some chose to use their cars to navigate the narrow road, while some took videos and the others just stood in my way distorting me from taking a good enough picture of this infamous road that I had worked so hard to get to. It was worth the climb.

A few short less hilly steps later, I made it to Fisherman's Wharf. Walked to the closest bar I could find  - Capurro's - and ordered me a good stiff one from their happy hour menu.

My thighs were throbbing at this point and the drink couldn't be consumed fast enough. I ordered a couple more, admired the lazy afternoon view of vacationers, called my mum and broke away, slightly tipsy.

Walked by the street vendors and had them do a caricature picture of myself. The same street artists I had experienced 3 years ago were surprisingly still in business. Walked by a couple of wine stores, and briefly considered doing some wine tasting but they were at a very steep cost. I thought wine tasting was supposed to be free. Don't they want people to test these wines and inevitably buy a bottle, how can you when you've already spent the money tasting a "wine flight"? Went into Cellar 360 and it was amazing. Like a mini wine factory complete with boxes of wine, a tasting section and of course, a tasting room. The tasting didn't cost that much and it seemed like they had a wider variety of wine than the other wine cellars I had passed. Plus they had this awesome view of the ocean from the wine tasting room, where you could catch a glimpse of some swimmers, the waves and boats going up to Alcatraz.

The wine attendant was so nice. He was this sweet old man that reminded me of my boss back home. He was tending to this tall gentleman who was standing a couple of feet from me, so we all ended up talking together. They were natives and there I was, the tourist. We swapped stories about SF, and all the places as a tourist you needed to go. The wine guy had surprisingly never been to Alcatraz after having lived there for the longest time. The tall guy was a member of the wine club and a yoga instructor during the weekend. He said the wine store was his escape from a hard day of work, he would stop by there, chat with the wine guy and stare at that awesome view. I thought that was nice to have, to even have a bartender that remembers your name and what drink you like is an awesome thing. I hardly even get that in Atlanta. I told them about my tales for the past 3 days. I told them how folks at Yelp had suggested I go over to the Tenderloin and they squirmed. The Tenderloin was not a good place to be. It totally made me feel so stupid to even mention it.

The wine store was getting ready to close so I had to wrap this up. We ended up finishing some of the "stale" wine. You know when wine has been opened for about 2 days they consider it bad, weak and tired, and pour it out. If you happen to be out and about when this incredible waste occurs then it is your lucky day because you get to drink some good shit. Really good shit. A couple of glasses later I thought I was done. But being that I had never experienced a nice San Francisco bar, my gentleman companion decided to indulge me.

We walked over to Black Magic Voodoo Lounge, which even though it may have had its charms was not appealing to me. A bunch of people just sitting around drinking booze with no live music (a jukebox) and not much else going on was not my idea of fun. My companion agreed. He also noted that the bartender was lacking in charm compared to the adorable sweet wine guy we had both just experienced. I swallowed my drink and concurred. A couple from Modesto, CA that was in need of fun (I could tell from the look on their faces) joined us. We took a hike, buzzed up no less, my companion was trying to take us to what he termed, the "smallest bar in San Francisco". We got there and indeed it was teeny tiny. It was more like a slice. The slice was packed so much the people spilt out onto the streets. From there, we hiked some more to Rex Cafe. I was famished at this point. The only reasonable food being the fries from earlier that day. We sat down and ordered from their late night happy hour menu. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich.

Minutes later, the couple went outside to smoke since SF is sane they don't let people smoke in bars/clubs/restaurants. Minutes later, they were a no show. My companion soon figured it out - the couple had bailed. He went outside to look for them and no sign of them. They had paid their tab and skipped out on us without even saying goodbye. I was bummed. My companion was more than bummed, he was pissed off. I thought we had made a nice foursome. Men talking on one side, women on the other. I don't know what we said to scare them away. Maybe it was the fact that we met by chance that seemed to freak them out a little. Whatever it was, they decided to leave us without even a word of goodbye.

That's the thing about vacationing alone. You meet good people who are sweet and hospitable to tourists and will care enough to show you around, show you a good time, like my companion. Then, you meet people who just think you are weird and they would rather not have anything to do with you. It's disappointing. I hope they don't plan to go to another country anytime soon, I would love to bail on them in a foreign country.

I finished my delicious sandwich, complaining between mouthfuls. Why does food always taste so good when you are slightly (or maybe extremely) buzzed? Could never understand that. I would go back there just to eat that food again. My companion walked me close to my hotel and then we said our goodbyes. You see he wasn't trying to get some, he was just being nice.

I walked to my room and crashed on the bed with a thud.

Food and fun rating for this extremely long day, A+.

Day Three - San Francisco Spring 2010

Thursday, April 8th.

Very unassuming day. I didn't really have plans for the day but I knew that I needed to get out and about. Plus, they were calling for temperatures a tad colder than we had yesterday so I was a little bummed by that news. I got dressed in an attire that could shift from warm to cold and swiftly left the hotel. I had coffee at the front desk with my blueberry scone from the day before and headed out.

I decided to walk along California street, determined to pass through Grace Cathederal, slight stop at Chinatown, thus terminating at the Ferry Marketplace. Mind you, I've seen all these places before on my first visit. But I didn't get to walk the first time. I took a cable car which, as cute and awesome as it looks, does not feel safe while maneuvering those hilly terrains and costs a pretty big penny (cost was $5 three years ago). This time I decided to walk. Not a very good idea still. I had my flat boots on which are comfortable but not functional. They lacked that rubber grip in their soles that you need when walking on rough terrains. This was very much needed because those hills start and end so suddenly, they are steep ascending and descending especially the Hills along California street that you fear that you will keel. The sudden descent was the worst. Without any grip to your shoes you instantly feel as if you would topple over and come sliding down. The sheer horror! So I took it one step down at a time. Several people, what I can only assume are SF natives, swiftly passed by me doing the one step at a time move and they had that scowl on their faces, where they can identify you as an amateur tourist.

After a couple of hills and valleys, I made it to Grace Cathedral Church.  The church was magnificient, intricate architecture, impressive details. I stopped to light a candle and thank the good Lord for my trip and pray for safe travels all the way through. Seconds later, the clock chimed for noon. The day had already begun on a good note.

This bag lady instantly hid once she saw me pull out my camera. She hid but left her "bag of goodies."

Chinatown. 

Very, very briefly. Also contemplated lunch here but I couldn't decide on which one. Not wanting to make the same mistake I made the last time by deciding on a lunch location too quickly, I held out (which was very hard considering how many blocks I had walked) for lunch at the Ferry Marketplace, which has very impressive array of food options. One in particular that I had eaten in the last time I thought I could revisit this time. However, I could not find it.

Ferry Marketplace had changed considerably. A few restaurants had appeared that were not there before like, I don't remember seeing The Slanted Door. Made a big mistake and walked into this swanky environment and was greeted by the menu filled with $18 salads. Hmm...I walked around repeatedly trying to retrace my steps and when I gave up, I inevitably ate once again ate at the wrong place - Delica.  I chose the Beef Curry dish. The rice was soggy and the meal had more curry than beef. It tasted so awful. At this point, an $18 salad seemed like a good deal. I decided not to dwell on this. I quickly bought tickets to take the ferry to Sausalito. Yay, hopefully things will look up there.

The Ferry ride to Sausalito was uneventful. A mad man sat in the section where I sat, a couple of rows in front of me and he instantly stank up the place. Yeah, Uneventful. The ride took all of 20 minutes and before I could pull out my camera and take pictures of myself, we were there.

Sausalito. This is one of those places that was mentioned to me during my last visit. But then, I was a little unadventurous. I thought what if it would not look as good as the person described and just generally thought it wouldd be an underwhelming tourist city.

So not the case. It was beautiful, picturesque type of beautiful. Homes facing the bay, scenic charm, blue water all around and tourist center shops lined the streets. Very tranquil holiday atmosphere. Words cannot describe it. I cannot imagine living here. Life would be so calm, you would wake up everyday and look across at the ocean and instantly feel rejuvenated and alive. Tourists cyclists paraded the wide paved road, squealing with excitement. It was beautiful.

I stopped for some icecream and a drink at Piccolo Teatro and just sat on the patio facing the tranquil scenery. The waitress asked me why I was so quiet, I simply replied that I was just taking it all in. We don't live like that in Atlanta, so to have a place where you can just sit and take in the environment and nature's beauty and soothe away the worries of the day you just have to grab that moment. Chatted with the lady in the Green T-shirt store (apparently green means they are overpriced) and the arts store (who knew oil paintings were left to dry for months, even years).

It was hard to tear me away from there but in the end I had to, I had planned on catching the second to the last ferry back to SF but apparently, so had everybody else, every cycling tourist that had probably arrived earlier that day on their bikes. Made it into the ferry and waited in line for the bathroom with a girl who had arrived from England, here to spend 4 days and then make her way to New Zealand before heading home. The British always know how to vacation well. She was obviously with a group so she scurried soon after to join her group. There I was, with enough time to take pictures of meself.

I made it back into the city with enough time to spare. Took a long walk through Market Street and stopped at Westfield Mall to experience their food court once again. This was my last stop on my trip 3 years ago. It was raining on my last day so I had to spend the entire day at the mall. I had just enough time to eat and tryto do some shopping before the stores closed at 9pm. I ate at the same Thai place - Coriander Gourmet Thai - I ate the last time only this time, because it was so close to closing, the portions weren't as fresh and tasted very stale. They also piled it on really high in a bid to try to get rid of it at the end of the day so my tw entrees and rice looked like a meal for 3 people. I was so ashamed of the mountain of food as I walked to a table to tackle it. Pity there was no refridgerator in my hotel room, because this would have made some good leftover food for tomorrow. I was barely able to go through one side before I was filled to the brim. Now, I really needed a walk.

A hop, skip and jump and a quick dash to the shoe department at Macy's in Union Square (I know repeat visit) and I was back in the hotel right around 9.30pm in time to catch a rerun of 30 Rock.  

Day 2 - San Francisco Spring 2010

Wednesday, April 7th.

What do you know? I cannot sleep. On vacation and I cannot seem to sleep in. I also had allergy issues that woke me up rather early. Today I was excited for several reasons. I had a tattoo appointment at noon in the "sunset" area. Don't know where that is but it sounds far away. Another reason for the excitement was because this was my first full day in the city. Enough with the jet-lag, let's explore.

So quick coffee at the hotel along with some shoddy directions on how many buses I needed and I jutted off. Several buses later, I was within a couple of blocks of the shop, however, I hadn't had breakfast. I stopped at the closest deli I could find - Toasties - and ordered a chicken wrap.  It was lunch-style (read: cold cuts) chicken on a crunchy (possibly toasted) wrap with some strange sauces. Needless to say it was not very good. If I had known that I would meet several other restaurants along my way I would have held out a little while longer. But before I bumped into this one every other one along my way was either a Subway or a Blimpie, or just a cafe so I thought there was no hope for decent food. I spoke or "ate" too soon. So far my choice of food on this trip has not been lucky. San Fran being a city known for its good food, you have to want to experience the good and stay away from the bad.

A couple of trailways passed me so I stopped to take some pictures. Note the cyclist in this picture was actually my tattoo artist speeding past me. I only noticed this later that day as I admired my pictures.

The appointment went very well. I would recommend this place - One Shot Tattoo to anyone. This was miles better than my appointment in New York. Tattoo turned out beautiful, very friendly staff, very laid-back atmosphere. Just what you need on a Wednesday afternoon with good weather, on vacation in a beautiful city. My tattooist - Nakona was just the best. He gave me "detailed" directions to the Golden Gate Bridge which was actually not very far from their shop  and tried to convince me to walk to it, "It's a beautiful day, nice weather, freshly tatted with all that adrenalin, why don't you walk to the bride and walk along it." Okay, then I said. Not a bad idea. I'm a little adventuresome.  

I stopped for a quick drink to get over the initial pain of the tattoo. Nothing better than alcohol shots after a tattoo. It's a wicked feeling. I recommend it any day so much so that I even crave it. Park Chow was a little better than my breakfast sandwich but a little on the pricekey side. After dropping some moolah for my tatt I really didn't have that much to throw around on a pasta for $15, forgive me. Any other day I would, not today. Plus the bartender was a bit short with me. She had that typical New York attitude where they are irritated for no reason whatsoever and they can't wait for you to make up your mind on what you want. I had one beer, some local unknown pilsner and was well on my way to the Golden Gate Bridge. Squee!

I passed the botanical gardens, came by this statue and took some pictures. Gorgeous day for a walk.

Then, I got lost. Walked along the beaten path of the highway but was still lost. Checked my iPhone for directions, still lost. Then, I needed to pee. What could be worse? I perceived the fresh aroma of some freshly baked goods and instantly walked into the store where it emanated - House of Bagels. Fortunately for me they had other baked goods and a bathroom. After the quick dash to the bathroom, I ordered a superb macaroon and a blueberry scone for breakfast the next day. It was yummy goodness. My mouth waters just thinking about it. I had a quick chat with the shop attendant who was distracted by a very old, indecisive lady, then continued on my journey.

Much to my tattooist chagrin, I copped out and took a bus to the Golden Gate Bridge. Everyone I asked said it was much too far to walk. The bus driver vehemently said it was too far to walk and you can't argue with the bus driver now. Thus, I chickened out, I know. I was losing daylight and the winds were beginning to hurl. It was almost 5 pm by this time.

The Golden Gate bridge. 

This deserves an entry in and of itself. Anything I say in here will not appropriately capture all that I was feeling and all that happened in a short amount of time. At first you think, it can't be that great, it's just an orange bridge. Yes, a huge orange bridge with a sidewalk for pedestrians and the most amazing view of an already gorgeous city. It's indescribable. It's like the ocean, everytime I see it I am floored by it. This was just as exhilarating. Mind you, I am afraid of heights in a bad way. I don't do foot bridges because I am afraid of looking down. But this is the Golden Gate Bridge, how can you visit San Fran and not at least walk on it. Fear of heights be damned. We flew 5 hours to get here, so why not. Words of encouragement from me to me, urging me to embark on this scary venture. With that, I began.

This is the hard part of vacationing alone. There are no pictures of me and the rusty orange bridge that highlights the bridge's awesome landscape and proves to everyone that yes, I did climb it. There's just this with me and a side of the orange pillars, looking very subdued.  Inside me, I felt like screaming, letting out one of those exhilarating screams of joy, pleasure and sheer excitement. But I couldn't. There were way too many people - Loads of tourists, visitors, bikers, couples, families - it was generally crowded. Some of them almost ran me down. Halfway I turned around and didn't make it the whole way through - in all fairness it is quite a long bridge. Still, it was an amazing experience to infinity. It was the reason why I really needed to see this city again, with or without someone. It made it all worth it.

At this time, the winds were really beginning to hurl so I tore myself away from there and headed home, stopping once again to do the Fillmore District. This time I chose a seemingly nice place for dinner - 2001 Thai Stick. Nice ambiance, even nicer Manhattan. Ambiance notwithstanding, the food was blah! I've had better Pad Prik Thai in Gwinnett County.

Day 2 completed. Excitement level up, food choices definitely needs improvement.

Day One - San Francisco

Tuesday, April 6th.

Flight to San Francisco at 10am. Got a friend of mine to take me to the airport but she could only do it first thing in the morning, 6.30. This meant little or no sleep. Exhaustion kicked in quite early. Got to the airport at a little after 7 am. Standing around the airport with about 2 hours to kill. A little nervous but excited. Kept saying to myself, "Here we go. This is 2 months in the making." I didn't eat. Big mistake. The plane trip took forever, the air hostesses were rude and pissy and there was no food. I was utterly famished by the time we got there. I was just so relieved that we got there before Noon, California time.

Got there and stood at the airport waiting for the taxi to take me to the hotel. I kept thinking as I stood there, "Okay, so I made it." The weather was nice and cool. I felt the tingle of the sun on my stiff jet-lagged joints. It was an indescribable good feeling. The taxi ride to the hotel took awhile. Other passengers were dropped off at much nicer hotels in parts of town I only wished I could afford to vacation in someday. I asked the sole male passenger in there if he was there on business. He replied, "Yes, in town for lunch from Las Vegas. Fly back this evening." Hmm. I muttered in reply, "That's a nice lunch." I want that job!

We finally got to Hotel Majestic which unbeknownst to me until now is haunted. For all I know I may have even stayed in the same haunted room, come to think of it. I got there at a little after 1pm. No early check-ins here. I asked to leave my luggage and explore as much as I could around it. Luckily for me it was close to Japantown (which was underwhelming) and the Fillmore District shops. I grabbed lunch at the closest decent restaurant I could find. It was an Indian food $9.99 all you can eat lunch buffet. I thought to myself, just what I need, I could eat a horse. Food was subpar at best. No wonder it was empty. Not a good way to start. Knowing what I know now and where I was headed, Fillmore Street, I should have waited to eat at some of the better restaurants that were about to present themselves to me.

Filled up and with extra time to spare, I did some window shopping at the Fillmore Street District. Don't you just love neighborhoods like this - streets lined with unique boutiques and one-of-a kind shops. Weaved in and out of the interesting array of shops. Marc Jacobs, weird. Browser books, intense, too bad not enough time. Paolo shoes, tacky. Couple more nameless stores. Clothes seem a little too upscale and high fashion for me. Stopped by Clary Sage Organics and picked up some herbal supplements samples and a free copy of Daniel Kalish's Book, Healthy Guide to Hormones. Yay me! Love this!! Nice stroll on a seemingly normal Tuesday afternoon and I score some swag. Nice. Bought a pack of Leffe Blond (I think that's what it's called) very good European beer and went back to check into the hotel.

The hotel was not so bad. It looked like a quaint European bedroom with the pine furniture, old-fashioned TV set and a claw foot bathtub. I didn't mind it at all, expected worse. Plus, the staff was just the nicest. Everything I asked for they provided in a short amount of time which I thought was so sweet for such a dated place. I sat back, unpacked and finally had a chance to rest from waking up early, the long flight, the time change, hustling at the airport, the immediate window shopping I was thrust in. I was exhausted. So I just sat back, relaxed and unknowingly downed two beers. 

Two hours later, I decided not to waste what I had left of the daylight and the day and headed over to Union Square to do some more window shopping. It was just like I remembered it from 3 years ago.

There was still the big ole' Macy's store in the middle of Union Square. The casual people who sit there and just take in the day in the middle of the square. Only this time there were more people than I remember. And the rest of the San Franciscans who just walk by totally unaffected by how pretty and serene everything seems to be. I did some more window shopping at Macy's, H&M (which had a very disappointing collection I must say), took some pictures of the square and began the long walk back to the hotel.

Some things never change. San Francisco still has a staggering number of homeless people, some of them harmless, some of them totally wasted and some of them really creepy. What was I thinking that there'd be fewer of them with the recession? I lost my directions back to the hotel so it got a bit scary with the homeless, scary people as I walked back.

This is the scary part of vacationing alone - when you have to walk the long, dark, unknown streets on your own. The trick to tackling this, one, stay aware of your surroundings, if people start walking behind you let them walk past you and if they refuse to walk past you, pick up the phone and make a phone call to anyone (preferably your mother) so at least there's someone on the other line that can call for help in case anything were to happen to you. Then, most importantly before you begin your walk pick a busy street, walk on the most well-lit street you can find. Find a family friendly looking couple or group of people and walk behind them. Stay close to them and if they change direction from your destination, find anouther well-lit street and walk on it.

I followed all these tricks of the trade and thankfully made it back to my hotel safe and sound.

Day One. Accomplished.

I'm on vacation

Starting tomorrow I will be on vacation in San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Yep, this is the time of my life I love the most when I get to vacation, alone nonetheless and it's even better. I know that because I've vacationed with family and it's been pretty boring and then, by myself, it's been pretty RAD. So I am hopeful and my inner self is excited (big squeal inside!). I love the time alone and away from Atlanta to explore, discover, meditate and just be me, with me and by me. It's awesome. If I could afford to do it more often I would. But alas, I can't.

I hope to blog about my experiences but my laptop is pretty old and bulky so I don't take it on trips with me. I shall try my best to detail my trip as much as possible, in some way or the other give you some blow by blow account.

Until then, do not despair, go out into the world and explore, by yourself, with yourself, be yourself, because You are your best kind.