We're back.

Hello friends.  It has been a busy time.  This weekend was the first weekend since March 7-8 that Will and I were here in San Francisco with nothing on the calendar.  So nice to just relax and park-hop with friends.  (I think Corona Heights is my favorite park in city so far.)  Thankfully, only good things have been keeping us so busy: AshleyCJBecca “Field of Grapes” weekend, bridal shower and surprise 30^th birthday for Erin, Andrew and Camille's wedding in Houston, ErinPeter&co visit over Erin’s birthday/Easter weekend, and Christina and Tyler's wedding in Austin.  The weddings were so fun and perfect excuses to go back to Texas.  (This was in our head most of the time.)  I am, however, quite broke right now.  This comparison might be a bit of a stretch, but bear with me: I am feeling a bit like the French aristocracy must have felt when Louis XIV made them move out to Versailles with him and party all the time and spend all their money.  It’s like, this is great, I love this, we have all the wonderful friends, but can I afford this lifestyle…who cares!, this is Versailles, we are so hot right now.  Not sure if I want to see how this metaphor plays out down the line...let me eat cake.

Sorry.  A glass of wine and high gravity beer with dinner and this is what we get.  Anyways, there is a bit of a lull in the wedding schedule for the next few weeks, so it will be nice to actually be here and explore the city.  I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, so I think it’s bedtime.  Coming soon on The Blob: The Real Explanation for the California Drought.  Stay tuned.

I need a drink.

Two “over it” gay dudes (I have named them "Over Eager" and "Vaguely Disgusted") have a very San Francisco conversation on the not-actually-crowded Muni.  The font gets bigger whenever my blood pressure rises.

Over Eager: Oh hey!  You’re missing a wheelchair.

Vaguely Disgusted: What?

(Over Eager points to homeless dude’s empty wheelchair in the car.)

Vaguely Disgusted: Oh. Ha. Right.

Over Eager: So I didn’t know you work around here!

Vaguely Disgusted: Mm, yeah, at Front and Market.

Over Eager: Oh, I work for (undistinguishable nonprofit).

Vaguely Disgusted: Oh wow, good for you saving the world.  Not like me, working in real estate.

Over Eager: Oh stop it!  I am not saving the world, just putting clothes on people’s back.

(chuckle chuckle chuckle)

Over Eager: But seriously, it really makes me feel bad about our consumer culture, you know?  It is just sickening.  We produce so much crap in excess.  Like this vest is American Eagle, so you know it will never biodegrade.  I mean, I guess you could recycle it.

Vaguely Disgusted: Oh my God, it could be a flotation device.

Over Eager: Oh my God, you’re right! 

(chuckle chuckle chuckle)

Vaguely Disgusted: Ugh, I hate this commute, this crowd is giving me anxiety.

Over Eager: Oh my God, I know.  Like, I hate when people just push, you know?  So rude.  Like, this is San Francisco, aren’t people supposed to be nice and have flowers in their hair and stuff?

Vaguely Disgusted: This city has really changed.

Over Eager: Ugh, you’re telling me.  My boyfriend just hates it now.

Vaguely Disgusted: What, with all these miserable young tech people with too much money driving up our rent?  What’s not to love?  How long have you guys lived here?

Over Eager: Oh, three years.

Vaguely Disgusted: Oh wow, I’ve been here fifteen.  I’m just pissed because I’m never gonna be able to move out of my apartment.

Over Eager: Oh my God, us neither.  You’re in rent-controlled too?

Vaguely Disgusted: Yeah, so basically I can never move.

Over Eager: The worst.

Vaguely Disgusted: Alright, well this is my stop.

Over Eager: What are you doing for dinner?

Vaguely Disgusted: Eating.  Alright, see ya later.

Over Eager: Don’t forget your wheelchair!

I don’t think I have the energy to type the rant that is living inside of me.  It’s just mildly infuriating to listen to two people (WHO LIVE IN RENT-CONTROLLED AKA CHEAP RENT APARTMENTS) lazily bitch about what all the native San Franciscans love to bitch about (AND THEY AREN’T EVEN NATIVE SAN FRANCISCANS).  But I will spare you all this rant.

This story does have a happy ending.  What was the first thing I saw upon my exit from the Muni station?  

Westie butt!