I survived another weekend with my best pal up north, way up in the northern territories of, er, Marin, Point Reyes, whatever. The most western part of the US. Small towns usually bring big drama, and though [possibly because] we know most of the town [well i didn't three days ago, but do know, and they definately know me, I never consider myself the wierd one until I put myself into an environment like that] one day would pass and the next everyone would be chatting about the scene[s] we caused at the bar, THE bar, there is only one. It was all good. I am going back next weekend, "Western Weekend," some crazy excuse to wear cowboy shit and drink. Also an excuse to see that certain manly man. Next weekend I will be sure to wear sunscreen – I could be mistaken for wearing a red shirt with pretty white bracelets on my wrists.

My hair hates the fog. I have curly, short hair that requires a certain amount of attention and preparation [omg I have turned in to one of those types of girls]. I work so hard on getting it just right, every spike and twist in place, then I am outside for five minutes and it turns to a wavy, cruddy pile atop my head.

Holiday in the States, yeh! That means I have three days off, three days of fun in da sun. I am headed to Point Reyes this evening, a little beach-side community where I will attend beach parties, baseball games, and uh I guess a float decorating event. Don't ask what that is about cause I haven't a clue. I allowed my pal to arrange all my plans for the weekend, and well that is what I ended up with. However, a cute boy will be in attendance at all of these functions so I suppose they are pretty good plans after all. It's nice to have friends that look after your best interests.

Design geeks on iChat:
"Today, I'm watching this bitchy Italian chick who thinks she's super hot stuff adjust the rag on a text box…"

So rad.

I am lucky enough to live only a couple hundred yards from Giant Robot. Lucky, if you consider spending your laundry money on cool stuff, like this book and this book, and next week this book, or this one, as uh, lucky. Oh and yeh, my new lucky shirt. It is sometimes just better to say things with Textura.

I love pixels. All the cutsie little pixel farms, factories and happy cities filled with pixelatin' personalities and pixel pets to match. Yeh, so it is all the rage right now – the flavor of the month, kind of like blackletter and the color pink, but it is still tasty regardless. Have you seen what happens to pixels and blackletter when they are combined? Have you seen this fantastic display of jaw dropping, omg-i-am-going-weak-in-the-knees goodness? It all makes we want to squeeze a fluffy pink bunny really tight while playing hop scotch with ribbons, bows and lace – all the while singing about rainbows, clouds and punctuation marks [mmm, maybe ligatures and ampersands] set in massive quantities of this and this.

wtf?

Today in San Francisco, it is just simply crazy and stunning at the same time.

I once again, I can call out to the world via blogging – it feels good. For well over a week now, I have had some issues with getting anything published here on the ole bloggy blog, as you probably noticed. But I have also been quite busy, so it isn't like I have had tons of time to talk about all my crazy dreams and funny observations. Believe me, I have had these insane urges to release my inner thoughts about my daily adventures; my bus rides home when I sometimes find myself next to guys who like to beat box (white guys, its bad) and rapping hobos that talk about fireballs and parantheses. I even did a homie handshake with some dude on the bus – why, I have no idea, but it was kind of fun. I have to spend one full day roaming the city with my camera, scratch that, 5 full days roaming the streets with my camera because baby, there is some beautiful stuff out there on the sidewalks and worn down walls of San Francisco's streets. The Mission has incredible murals and graffiti covering what seems like every inch of concrete; hand-painted signs written in spanish stand out in brilliantly faded reds and golds. I keep finding little stenciled phrases painted on the streets – here on Haight, out in the Potrero area – random lines of text that mean something to someone. One I saw today said something about …"waiting here for her…," quite sweet, poetic. I cannot forget all these images, I just want to absorb them into my squishy brain and project them on my own white walls. Until next time…

this is a test

I have spent a few days trying to publish my posts here, and for some reason Blogger just won't publish anything. I don't understand. Since the re-design of their site, I noticed this nifty feature: post via e-mail. So, I am attempting to utlilze this little shortcut and hopefully I will succeed. We'll see.

I have finally settled into my temporary home, by settled I mean that I have been here once or twice in the last day or so to drop off some bags and my computer is glad to be plugged into a hot DSL line while simultaneously surfin on a neighbor's wireless network. I got a little side tracked yesterday when I was doing the official move, and never actually made it back here till sometime this afternoon, I felt I needed to go get myself into heaps of trouble in my new city and I think I may have succeeded.

Haight is buzzing today (my new place is one block off haight) – Bay To Breakers was this morning and even more crazy people than normal flooded the streets with nudity, giant foam cowboy hats, fake fur and way too much beer than a crowd that size should be dabbling with. Oh, and those street-side toilets that I once thought were the greatest thing since kittens (especially when you really have to pee), are actually a bit frightening once you are inside. The entire time all I can think about is being locked in and drowned by the self-cleaning feature.

OOps, I accidentally deleted the photos I had previously posted here. Sorry!

Hullo from San Francisco. I don't have time to write anything, at least anything with substance. It has been an incredible weekend. I have done nothing but hang out at French Chateaus in Napa Valley and numerous wineries and vineayrds, chit-chats next to the warmth of large pit-fires and drink good ole American beer, the good kind, not the crappy kind. All my stuff actually made it to SF, completely amazing, I almost didn't make my plane and wasn't sure until I got to Oakland if my baggage had even made it on board. Many tales to tell, though I am not so sure if I should even be talking about them in public, or on the internet especially. But if you come on down to my new neighborhood pub on Haight, I can't remember the name, you can buy me a drink and I will tell you a tale.

I have reached that point in the packing process where I just stand in the middle of my room and stare at everything, hoping it will all jump into its appropriate place. I have one bag packed, one of three (well, four if you count my bike that I have to disassemble and pack up in its massive box). This one bag is heavy. Like, it's filled with books. And come on, how many purses does a girl need for three months? In my case, I need six, perhaps five, but that may mean I will have to buy another once I arrive at my destination. Choosing the perfect six wasn't as difficult as I had assumed in the beginning, I own about a dozen or so [we'll change that to more like, a couple dozen], but there are a three in particular I cannot live without. They are the special occassion purses, the ones that I could have purchased a new computer with if, er, someone did trade-ins on computers for, uh, purses. These are purses women stare at whilst I am walking down the street, the purses that attract so much attention they could have their very own reality show, or at least have a cameo in one. Seriously, they are perfection.

Packing clothes is quite difficult since we are in the middle of a transition in seasons, I am not sure yet what my summer wardrobe will be. Honestly, I am not sure I can fit in my next suitcase, what I have set aside to pack. Crap. This sucks. I also keep telling myself that I can always just buy new stuff, talking myself into shopping is the very last thing I need to be doing right now. I have bills to pay, like many many bills – basically I am paying bills for two people. The Canadian me in Vancouver and the American me in California. Crap. I'm totally screwed man. But oh baby, the American me is gonna be so happy when those purdy sandals I CANNOT stop thinking about [dude, I have been blogging about them almost on a daily basis], are strapped to my feet. OMG, I just had a great thought, about how lovely my purses will look with those sandals. Ok, I have issues.

Oh baby, this is the best beer ever. Please, dear liquor lord of ours – stock this bottle on the shelves of san Francisco's stores.

Word of advice, don't go get drunk and leave comments all over the place. You might make yourself look stupid. I luv Autechre.

… and then I get sad again when I think that those purdy little sandals aren't on my feet right now.

Three days and counting. Aside from all the fun I am going to have in San Francisco, all the wonderful bits and pieces of a city that I so love, I can't stop laughing at the idea that my temporary governor is going to be Arnold Schwartznnggggsrrwsaazzz. It just makes me giggle. On the other hand, it doesn't make me giggle when I think about my temporary president – I get more of a vomit-y sensation when I think of that. But then I get a slightly warmer, tingly feeling when I think about my absentee ballot that I am going to mark up with democratic pride, and that having a queen is just way cooler. But, nausea sets in again when I think about how my absentee ballot may never see the light of day. Ah, but the giggling returns when I think about how for many hours today, I sat under a table with my pal, sock puppets on hands, being filmed telling some of the worst jokes in the history of jokes and of course in the history sock puppets. Then, I am calm and I smile when I think about those purdy little sandals, and all is well in the world.

Ok, now everyone just calm down. The new feature here, currently playing, for the time being isn't playing anything. Apparently their server is backed up and may not update for a short spell. Either that, or I did something terribly wrong.

Serifs are pretty and easier on the poor eyes.

Anyone have problems with Safari vs. Blogger? Recently there has been some difficulty publishing from blogger while using Safari. I constantly have to switch over to Mozilla for publishing purposes. Hmmmm.

Holy crap I'm moving in 5 days. I think it finally started to sink in this evening, after a few beers with friends and immersing my thoughts into watercolor drawings, drawings that got way out of control after images of darkness and fantasy-like landscapes escaped from my brain, through my hands and onto the paper. The "shoot" tomorrow for our much anticipated sock puppet theatre film is going to use some pretty fancy backdrops which Calli and I created this afternoon. [One day soon it will make it way onto the web – don't worry, it will be linked when the time is right. If you are lucky [and we are lucky] you might catch the flick at some upcoming type gatherings] A slow progression of pastel cityscapes and sandy beaches with happy looking chickens and ponies ended in tube station signage, dreary hilltop castles with bats and fire-breathing shimmery dragons with pink wings. Yup. This is going to be one hell of a sock puppet show.