MARY JANE

This morning Technogeek and Little Bit had to set off explosives by my head to wake me, because the snoring-induced earplugs I wear work so well.  So the cable car dinging and motorcycle revving on the street below didn’t alert me to the morning hour.  Once roused, we drove down to Haight Street for breakfast. 

The Haight-Ashbury district can be summed up thusly: more head shops per capita than anyplace else in the U.S. 

Before sending Tigger to Palo Alto, I promised I would get her a kickin’ San Francisco souvenir.  We found just what she needed in a little shop with 800 bong models on the wall–a sparkly purple beaded door curtain for her bedroom.

I know.  Y’all wish you had one too.

The Castro proved anti-climactic.  Run-down and seedy.  Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood is way gayer.

In the afternoon we visited Golden Gate Park.  We walked carefully and didn’t crash into any cloaked starships whatsoever.

Little Bit played on the first publicly funded playground in the country, or so the sign said.  She had a grand old time until a bonk (not to be confused with the bongs in a previous paragraph) brought her fun to an immediate end.

Dinner, wandering around downtown, blah blah, hanging around hotel room being quietish, hoping the kid goes to sleep soon.

End of transmission.