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One more post today, and then I'll see you next year. Probably.



So had a pretty cool Saturday, even though it got started late. The tardiness was because I didn't get up til 10, in a rare day of sleeping-in-eyness. Took the most freezing-ass shower of my life, as the hot water was out. And then I had to give blood for some bloodwork before I go in for surgery on Wednesday.

No, it's nothing dangerous or dramatic. I'm having arthroscopic surgery done on my shoulder to correct its being damn near pulled out during a JV football game nearly 20 years ago. If that doesn't make me feel old, the recognition that I'm now over twice the age I was done should do the trick.

But yeah, the capsule around the joint was stretched out, so I'm going to get that tightened, and get to wear a sling for three weeks after that. I've been going at a pretty frenetic pace in an effort to appreciate my days of two-handed dexterity until then. I'm pretty sure I can still manage to drive stick this way, although Sabrina shakes her head vehemently each time I mention it.

The bloodwork place was completely crowded, and it took me over a half hour before they could even stick me with a needle. After that, since I had been fasting all day, I rushed over to In-N-Out for lunch, and by the time that was done, we were looking at a beautiful California Saturday that was already at 1 pm, and we hadn't done anything of note with it yet.

Sabrina wanted to visit some Cherry Blossom fest up in the city, but I didn't want to spend all that time driving and finding parking there, and then not having much time to see anything. Plus, they're still going on next week.

With my vast share of foresightedness, I suggested Half Moon Bay. Which, yes, in retrospect, when you put it in the framework of "Let's avoid going to SF because it'll be too crowded and take too long to get there and go to Half Moon Bay--which happens to be a popular, beautiful state park, beach, and tourist attraction--on a perfect Saturday afternoon," then yes, I'll admit that my suggestion was closer to the stupid side than the less-dumberer side.

And on top of it, while we spent half an hour winding through the jam-packed morass that was westbound Highway 92, I happened to be wearing a dark blue t-shirt that absorbed every bit of radiation from the sun. Every last bit of it. So that wasn't very bright of me either. And then when we got to the beach lot, we had to turn around, as it was closed due to being full, and I ended up going a half mile away from there to find a tiny space in the midst of the street parking, and did a horrible job of parallel parking into it.

Well, not that horrible in that nobody was hurt. But I was something like 3 feet away from the curb when I gave up trying to get closer to it. (But I didn't give up the spot. I wasn't going to do something like that after all the investment I'd put into getting there).

But despite all that, it turned out we had a very good day. So here commences the pretty pictures.



When my co-workers back in IL ask me how I like telecommuting, I never, ever provide details as to what it's like in the Bay Area. Because I don't need them to be tremendously envious of me. I have very little going on for my job situation. Except that I get to live near beaches with perfect weather.



You know you've played too much WoW when you look at that ravine and wonder if there's a mining node there to be gathered. 

Plus, llama and bird-spotting goodness, for good measure.

After we did some walking along the beach and getting our feet and calves soaked by the freezing Pacific (I said the weather was great, not the water), we headed back up and found a rinsing station to wash the grit away from our feet. While I was rinsing the sand out from between my foot and sandal, a group of retired-looking couples came over, and one of them said to me, "You're doing such a good job of washing that I should just bring my car up for you, as well!"

Now I don't know about you, but when an old-looking white guy who looks like he's done pretty well for himself in life comes up to me and tells me that he should have me wash his car, I feel more than a little uneasy about it. Like, "Massah done tole me to fetch his carriage" uneasy. When they were out of earshot, I asked Sabrina if she got kind of a weird vibe about it, too, she said, definitely. But hey, just because I live in one of the wealthiest regions of the wealthiest nation on earth doesn't mean that my class-warfare instincts aren't all out of whack, right? You can take a look for yourself, into the face of privilege. (For the curious, he's the guy in spiffy matching blue on the left).

After that encounter, we continued our incursion into the life of Riley by checking out downtown Half Moon Bay. Which, other than the $3.95/gallon gas, was pretty nifty. We counted three bookshops in a two-block radius, lots of little restaurants and cafes, and all manner of touristey shops. But we spent the majority of our time inside here.



Cunha Country Grocery (with curio, gift, and wine shop on the second floor) epitomizes the kind of quaint old-school yet modernly progressive store that you might expect to find in a seaside town in the Bay Area. You half expect to see Alton Brown around the corner, extolling the virtues of farm-fresh, organic pretzel sticks. The grocery store, while small and narrow, contains a lot of selection, and everything seems choice, with a lot of exclusive Cunha-branded stuff supplied from local organic farms. These included preserves, dressings, juices, candies, pastas, and some tempting looking truffles, to boot.


Freshly killt, yet artfully displayed.


Sabrina, being a huge Godfather fan, insisted we take a picture of this. For my money, without the "Pura" appended to it, it's just a knockoff, but still, the olive oil business is the olive oil business.

Upstairs, as we mentioned, sold wine, including these beauties:

Yes, they're bigger than your average wine bottle, measuring closer to keg-size. The one on the right has a price tag of $1,299.

We ended up limiting our purchases to a cast-iron skillet (been meaning to get one of those bad boys for forever now), a couple candles, and a kitschy otter magnet. But still, otters!

And then we headed home. Would have posted this last night, but it was kind of an exhausting day.

Date: 2008-04-14 03:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] waveform-delta.livejournal.com
"You're doing such a good job of washing that I should just bring my car up for you, as well!" could have been a back-handed California way of saying "Thanks for hogging all our water, jerkface,"--something along the lines of "if you're gonna spend that much time washing your feet, *I* might as well get something out of it."

Mind you, I'm not claiming that this somehow makes the guy less rude; I'm only suggesting an alternate interpretation filtered through my intense Midwest cynicism.

Date: 2008-04-14 02:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sarchasmic.livejournal.com
You know, that's an interesting possibility. Except the guy had just come up walking along, and hadn't exactly been waiting for eons before he said that. So maybe he was hinting he wanted me to move, but in that case, he was also an impatient S.O.B. with an insensitive excuse of a sense of humor.

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