This cat is one of two cats who stared at me in threatening and malevolent ways throughout my recent weekend in San Francisco over Columbus Day weekend. I am not fluent in Cat, but the glares, the avoidance of my petting hands, and the hissing (from the big Siamese with no tail) were loud and clear. Good thing I had distractions, as the cats were residents of a fabulous new house belonging to my vacationing friends. A house with cupcakes in the refrigerator!

I had an unprotected orgy with food that weekend. I’m not going to go into terribly intimate detail, but I will tell you that I ate fried chicken for breakfast. Twice.

San Francisco! Impulse control set to OFF!

Friday. Tapas and sangria in my mouth. Rock in my ears. Bonus experience of getting to surprise Alison (she of the hott red dress) just before her gig. This is the awesome McCabe and Mrs Miller. Her hub Danny took this picture, and I stole it with my aioli-covered hands.

I walked a long and beautiful balmy walk to my temporary home, with a lot on my mind and inside my belly.

Saturday. Fried chicken for breakfast (#1) with my primary food partner (That would be Molly. If I have to tell you that, you have NOT been following along on this blog.) Farmer Brown has a soul food brunch buffet that has, to put it mildly, a pleasing mouth feel from start to finish. Run there and put the biscuits and gravy into your long-neglected biscuit-and-gravy hole.

It was a freakout of a weekend, Fleet Week was in full force, which meant the water was packed with boats, the skies were packed with airplanes, and the streets were packed with hot young sailors from all over the world. I kept my eye out for the French ones, who actually wear those white berets with pompons on them, mon dieu. No luck.

However, all thoughts (lustful and otherwise) rapidly exited my head as the darn Blue Angels flew, flew, flew all weekend. Bring on da NOISE! Now we’re starting to understand the depths of the cats’ angst.

This is the only picture I got of the Blue Angels (see the sky in the background), and totally inadvertently! That’s Ellen and her uncles. More on her in a bit.

I did happen to be standing, at one point, right under the Angels, who flew low enough for me to see their cameltoes numbers on their carriages. I don’t know that you can’t involuntarily shriek when you’re being THAT buzzed.

And where was I standing, under the flight path? Why, on the Golden Gate Bridge, of course. Brr!

Molly and I accompanied Stacy onto the Bridge, because Stacy had a mission. Her mother was on a Princess Cruise ship that was set to pass under the Bridge en route to Panama. Stacy was going to wave at her family and they would wave back. Stacy would be holding a blue scarf for identification.

What could possibly go wrong? Except that the ship was about 2 hours late to depart, thanks to the cluster-eff in the Bay. And except that, if you really think about the algebra and physics of the thing, it was going to be nearly impossible for us to position ourselves at the right exact spot at the right exact moment. As we finally saw the ship coming closer (and hauling ass), Stacy had about 1 minute to try to RUN towards the intersection of ship and bridge, which was much closer to the SF side than we were told.

Here is the moment of impact. You can see a cute little figure waving a cute little scarf on the Bridge. Stacy DID get close enough to spot her relatives, who were looking UP at the Bridge, and not TO THE RIGHT. Besides, the sun was in their eyes, but who cares, because what a silly and fun thing to have done! And there was hot chocolate afterwards, so really, it was a perfect day.

Sunday. Ellen’s birthday party in Golden Gate Park. A great time (including fried chicken for breakfast #2),  to fete La Ellen, a fantastic friend. A memorable moment was seeing a couple Storm Troopers come over the ridge and march right past our party. Our own party’s accordionist broke into the Imperial March. It was a nerdgasm of the highest order.

The Storm Troopers. Note the one behind holding a birthday gift.

Our supercute accordionist.

I brought some Chocovine, which everyone sneered/gagged at the sight of and which was consumed within minutes.”Chocovine: a fine French Cabernet Sauvignon subtly blended with a rick dark chocolate from Holland to create a decadent, silky smooth sipper.” It tastes like Yoo-Hoo mixed with moonshine.

Monday. I caravaned towards home (Stacy in my car, John and his brother in the other). What a great way to travel. Especially with friends who like to do the things that I like to do.

I’m going to have to rehinge my Food Jaw now. Until next time, my darling Feasty by the Bay!