I have come to the conclusion that I don't understand men. I am not going to elaborate, that is just something I now realize. That being said, I am finally at my temporary city home after a long weekend up in my little temporary country home (well someone else's home, but I'm beginning to feel like I kind of live there, temporarily), Pt Reyes. Very mellow holiday, with a lovely bash to close the weekend. Said party took place above the fog on top of a mountain, fantastic house with the best live-in DJ I have ever heard. We feasted, drank and were quite merry. Earlier in the day I spent some time wondering the beaches of Bolinas, a little surf town with some serious attitude. These folks hate tourists, and I suppose I didn't fit the trashy quota of the women in that town – I was screamed at and ridiculed in a bar for simply walking in. I quickly escaped back to the sandy beaches to watch bands, soccer and the token dancing hippies with drums. As much as I, we, make fun of them – they were the best part of the day. I saw no fireworks, though I did get a little too close to some sparklers. Oh and the sparkly shoes made some important appearances here and there, seriously at least 10 remarks on them in one day.



After falling asleep under the sun for an hour while crossing the beautiful bay by ferry, I dragged my sunburned, worn out body back to the Music Hall and caught a lovely show by Mum. I cannot explain how remarkable they sounded and their talent exceeds most of the musicians in the biz today. Each member of the band played about 6 different instruments, most of which I have never seen in my life. Check them out.