San Francisco, We Were In You!

Do I look bohemian?  I should-- because seriously, that was as match as I got this weekend, which sort of sucks, because it was kind of a big deal.

We went to San Francisco this weekend so Mate could run the half-marathon.  It was, for us, the equivalent of all the missed date-nights of the last two months, all together in one weekend, and in the middle of that pesky race, we went to as many movies, as many restaurants, and held hands as often and as much as humanly possible.

Even if once or twice it was by mistake.

We arrived on Friday night, and were, quite frankly, too tired to do more than snuggle and watch Bourne Identity from beginning to end.

And snark about how small our hotel room was-- because it seems to me like every hotel in San Francisco should contain a warning about being functional origami.

Seriously… Mr. Owl, how many steps does it take to get around this hotel room?

Let's see.  A one.








A two.

















A three.

Three.



But what the room lacked in charm, it made up in location (only a mile away from the finish line) and icy cold air conditioning, which, since it seemed irrationally hot in San Francisco, was like gold.  

Oh-- it also had a sun deck, which gave me some really awesome pictures.  So even though the concierge staff couldn't be bothered to call a frickin' cab (Not. Kidding.  I'm just enough of a traveller at this point for that to be a serious strike against a hotel staff!) it wasn't a bad place for a stay on a budget.





Don't you think so too?

Anyway, on Saturday, we had one thing to do and that was walk to the shuttle bus that took us to Fort Mason.  Once there, we wandered around the Running Expo wherein we saw A. A stunning number of small dogs, B. An adorable kid selling ear buds that stay IN YOUR EARS, and yes, I bought some, and not just because he was a holy jumping plot bunny, and C. An incredible array of inedible food.  I mean I get the dietary fiber/soluble protein thing that runners have to do, but folks, if you're eating something called "Gu" because it has the TEXTURE OF GOO, I'm thinking, "Somewhere, somehow, we have gone wrong as a species.  Mate bought four packets, said it saved his life.  Good for Mate!

Of course we also registered him for the half marathon-- the second half, which is why his picture is at 3Con Park and not over the bridge.  By the way?  This is right where he said his feet started cramping like a motherfucker, and he had three miles to go.  Let's hear it for Mate, who worked his ass off and limped to the finish, because that's when it takes real guts, right?

Anyway, we took the bus back from Fort Mason, and although we'd been PLANNING to take the tour bus at that point, two stints on the cramped, ex-school busses choking down diesel had us thinking we'd go get some lunch and then go catch a nap before we took in a movie.  Mate wanted to see two things this weekend-- one of them was Lucy, which we both loved.

Dinner, sleep, and then he left at around six-thirty to go line up to start the half.  He started running at eight-thirty a.m., and cleared the finish line at around 11:15. I'd been standing there since 10:20-- he usually makes better time than that when he's not cramping, and my forehead is now a little pink.  It would have been a lot pinker, but I swathed my new scarf (which matched stuff even less than the old scarf) around my head, because I was gonna go down throwing up if I didn't cover my head.  (So, good purchase, really!)

Anyway-- he came in, he recovered, we had just enough time for him to catch a shower and us to pack before we had to be out of our hotel room.  Then he directed me to Sausalito for lunch, which was awesome.

And then we made a tactical error.  We let me drive.

I'm not sure how I ended up going on the bridge to San Quentin three times, but that was not what was supposed to happen.  It was an hour out of our way, and by the time we got back to where we were supposed to be, we both needed to get out of the car.

Which is how, in a suburb near Hercules, CA, we saw the movie Hercules, starring The Rock, and we loved it.  It was tongue in cheek and fairly awesomely B-movie goodness.  And it was the other movie that Mate wanted to see.

And then we came home, stopping to eat on the way.

And now?  We're both going, "Got stuff to do, got stuff to do, got stuff to do…"

But I don't think we're gonna last.

Cause folks?  It's been a hell of a weekend.  I'm ready to sleep in my own bed with my dog.

And my Mate :-)