So I’m sure you all are just desperate to know. After great internal debate and much soul searching, I went with the screwdriver. A perfect breakfast cocktail for the long trip to San Francisco.
And I, blissfully, watched three movies and read US Magazine (Am I the last person to find out that Lindsay Lohan is a lesbian or at least dabbling in that arena?).
After arriving in San Francisco, I caught a cab. When I’m a tourist, I’m convinced that everyone is trying to take advantage of me (I guess because of all the tourists I regularly hustle in New York City).
So I hop into the taxi and try to act all cool and San Franny as I talk to the driver.
Me: Hi. How are you? THIS visit I’m staying at the Westin (Translation: Look taxi guy, I can’t even count the number to times I’ve jetted in and out of this city so don’t try taking me in circles. I’m on to you buddy.).
Taxi Driver: Which Westin?
Taxi Driver: There are two.
Me: Ummm. Let me see. I have the address right here. Well, I had it a minute ago. Hold on, it’s right here in my calendar. Oh, the one on Dowell Street. Yes, Dowell.
Taxi Driver: Oh, you mean Powell street?
Me: Yeah, yeah that’s the one.
Boy, I really showed him. That will be the last time he tries to mess with an out-of-towner.
Actually, he just seems super nice and not at all interested in taking advantage of some dumb New York girl and he takes me directly to the hotel. Where I find this…
From my family. How incredibly sweet! I don’t want to call Dylan and Summer slackers, but I’m guessing that my husband Rick was the one who really made the flowers thing happen. I want to ask him if the flowers are organic but I just say, “thank you.” Whether organic or covered with chemicals, they sure are pretty.
As soon as I’m settled in, I want to immediately start soaking up the true San Francisco experience, so I head here:
There are three Starbucks within a two block radius of my hotel. And a lot of traffic. And many stores. You know this place sort of reminds me of somewhere familiar. Oh, wait, I’ve got it. New York City. Except with cute street cars going up steep hills.
I’m here to attend the BlogHer Conference, along with hundreds of other blogging women. Make that hundreds of blogging women I don’t know… which really scares the crap out of me. So thank goodness for this girl.
That’s Lia of Frietas Family Follies. She’s my roommate and is a super fun, sassy girl who seems to know everyone here. So I’m sticking close to her. Oh, and I’m like glue to this guy too.
Don’t you love his ‘stache? Actually, I’m not really hanging with him that much. He’s the doorman from the rockin’ Silicon Vally Moms Group party I went to last night. Do you think he uses some kind of special moustache gel? You can get back to me on that and anything you know about the Lindsay Lohan thing.
You know, just trying to stay young and current here.