NorCal, Let's Hang.

Sometimes, nothing sounds more pleasant than a chance to leave your heart in San Francisco… and your rabbit in Orange County.

No offense to Sadie, the cold-hearted doe of San Clemente proper, but the Mr. and I needed some alone time. And since RP has lately seen fit to spend many a night without me in the City by the Bay, it was time I joined him.

San Francisco taught us a lot:

-          RP has great taste in hotels. We spent the weekend at the Westin St. Francis, conveniently flanked by Saks 5^th Ave, Macy’s, and William-Sonoma. Serendipity, thy name is Priceline.

-         Grace cathedral is worth the (quad-burning) trek up Nob Hill, even if I do visit every time I’m in the area. We particularly enjoyed walking the labyrinth, which, much to RP’s dismay, was nothing at all like the movie.

-         There is no end to what we’ll do for good food. Struck by his (usual) late-night donut craving, RP and I trekked three miles at 11 p.m. to get him the best (or three best) donuts in San Francisco. Bob’s, we’ll be back.

-         A bicycle is a magnificent way to see the city on a Saturday afternoon. However, after riding from Embarcadero to Fisherman’s Wharf to the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito to the Muir Woods shuttle and back to Sausalito, it’s also a good way to make sure you feel your butt bones every time you sit down from there on out.

-     Also, yes, you CAN ride around for 4-5 hours in a skirt and riding boots. It's fine. No matter what your husband tells you.

-         The Prices are certified public transportation gurus, even if our BART ride from SFO downtown went something like this:

RP: “Honey, this is a train that we pay to ride all the way into town. See all these people? They’re also paying to ride the train. It’s called puuubbb—liiick trannns-porrr-taayyy-shun.”

KP: “Why are you so annoying?”

RP: “See, we couldn’t afford to buy a whole train, could we? But when everyone pitches in, it ends up being very cheap to ride it. Isn’t that neat?”

KP: “Stop talking.”

RP: “And tomorrow, if you’re good, I’ll teach you about trolley cars and street cars and even subways that go UNDER the water.”

KP: “I’m getting off at the next stop.”

-         I may never again be satisfied with another breakfast, after spending the morning with Dottie’s Blue Ribbon Café. Chili-cheese cornbread toast with jalapeno jelly? I’m destroyed.

-         Orange County kids don’t fit in too well in Haight-Ashbury, mostly due to the fact that we don’t smell like pot/incense and usually remember to wear pants. Nonetheless, we enjoyed their annual street fair immensely (mostly due to giant snow cones).

-          RP and I need babies. It will really help us not look like pedophiles in Golden Gate Park.

Yes, SFO, we heart you.