I've been to the Embarcadero once before, during an early-2010 trip with NonSociety, but as with…oh, everything: it's so different when you're with a child. When you look at life through a toddler's eyes, you notice things that your grownup self just doesn't notice.
Vince sweater via Destination Maternity; fringe booties.
Years and years ago, I was hanging out in a bar in the Valley with a friend who was visiting from Santa Fe, and decided to play the jukebox. I punched in the numbers for one of my all-time favorite songs, The Doors' People Are Strange, and about ten seconds after it started playing Keifer Sutherland walked through the door. He ended up buying my friend and I shots of Jack and playing darts with us for hours, and was extremely drunk and extremely nice, and that night remains one of my favorite L.A. memories to this day.
Now, I tried to tell this story to a couple of friends the other day, and they were totally lost as to what that Doors song might to do with Keifer Sutherland, and when I tried to clear it up with "you know, the opening montage from The Lost Boys?"...that didn't help. And then it turned out that they didn't know Lost Boys, and didn't know who the two Coreys were, and hadn't seen License to Drive, either, so…I don't know. Maybe my friends need a primer in 1980s cinema, or maybe I'm showing my age. In either case, I have to concede that this particular film may not be quite the earth-shattering cultural reference for everyone that it is for me.
{ My daughter's first accessory … }
{ … the rowboats on the Santa Cruz boardwalk (and that expression!) … }
This is one of my favorite photos ever; it's just so exactly what Sunday morning looked like.
So remember our friends Stephen and Dave - Kendrick's college buddies, who lived directly below us on the UES? Us living in adjacent apartments wasn't so much of a coincidence as it was us visiting them at their apartment, falling in love with it, and then finding out that the place upstairs from them was available and snatching it up immediately…but this?
Coincidence. Kind of a crazy one. We got together for breakfast a few weeks ago and told them our big news - that we were headed to San Francisco for the summer - and then they gave us their big news: they were, too. The same weekend as us (except not just for the summer; for good).
I have flown cross-country with a toddler several times now. I know how difficult it can be, and how very, very loud it can be, even if the parents are doing absolutely everything in their power to be as respectful as possible of the other passengers. Which is to say: I am not an especially intolerant person when it comes to in-flight disturbances.
But OH MY GOD did the flight on Saturday ever make me insane. So I have a question for you, because I suspect that pounds and pounds of pregnancy hormones combined with the fact that I had just dragged unreal-heavy bags through an unreal-large airport makes the validity of my emotional response system a little…untrustworthy.
