I kicked my feet in the air and she warned me I would lose my pretty shoes
Favourite new word: Thugcore. Used in the context "Chock-full of thugcore, ass-ramming action!"
Ever get that sneaky feeling that your barista slipped you a double-shot in your morning latte? I am strictly a one-a-day girl in these times of moderation. I'm not sure I can handle the excess. I am avoiding talking to people as my over-caffeinated attempts at conversation are usually unsuccessful at best, hilarious at worst. I am over-sped enough as it is.
Is it wierd that I don't have a regular hairdresser, but I have a regular barista? I would feel wrong if I cheated on her. If I don't go by her cafe for a few mornings in a row I worry that she will forget about me and my fussy coffee order. We make awkward conversation and I am slowly training her not to empty half the tub of cream cheese on my occasional morning bagel.
San Francisco is at it's sunniest, queerest best right now. For the past month my morning bus to work has been brightened by the rainbow flags (big, proud, full-sized rainbow flags, none of this economical cheap-ass crap), four or five on every block the entire length of the city's main thoroughfare. Those and the sunshine make it hard not to smile. Pride is this weekend, of course. It's in the daytime, which seems odd to me.
Apparently earthquakes keep "rocking Northern California" but I have yet to feel one (although the light in my bedroom flickered a little bit at one point). It's very disappointing. I know that I shouldn't wish geological destruction upon myself or anyone else, but what's the point of living in one of the world's most notorious earthquake zones without at least a little brush with The Earth's Fearsome Power? The closest I've ever been to feeling an earthquake was on the big mechanical platfrom at that tiny little geological museum that used to be in The Rocks. Remember that thing? We used to go there in primary school.
There were many Marvellous Things about the weekend just gone, including getting to hang out with Long Lost Friends From Australia, and the best of them had to do with beachside entertainment complexes past and present. On Saturday, Long Lost Friends, a local girl, and I explored a Giant Camera which was the best three dollars I have ever spent, ever. And on Sunday, in the little sunny southern town, a lover and I strolled through the crowded, salty, whirling boardwalk and went on the sky-ride. I kicked my feet in the air and she warned me I would lose my pretty shoes. A seagull flew past at our level. We kissed and held hands and watched people coming back the other way. It was lovely.