Learning something new

The sun is outside to play, clouds are sulking around the corner, and the day sparkles with adventure.  Brilliant blue beckons at the soul to come out and play.

After a late, lazy morning, filled with huckleberries and pancakes, one can only hope to partake in the something new that twinkles on the horizon.  The air is warm and softly teases pink cheeks as the sun laughs down.

It's a lovely day to be alive, to breathe in the scent of pine as you manage yard work.  Today is warmer than the past few, more lively, and happy to see you.  Fall is on it's way, but summer has yet to bid it's final farewell.  Once again you can leave the house clad in shorts.  Tonight will be warm enough to enjoy a picnic in the serenity of the backyard with the company of friends or a good book.

And so today, before the evening warmth comes, it is time to meander along the river and let peace flow over you.  Of course, if you should happen to wander off the Centennial Trail and climb on the rocks along the shore, new items will delight you.

Grasshoppers jump hurriedly away from you...bugs swirl on top of the water...mini waterfalls spread around you as water cascades between rocks...and if you look over toward your companion, you might happen to notice a reddish tint in the water.  Peering a little closer from your perch on top of a boulder, you notice it looks a bit like a lobster.  Curiously (yet gently) poking at it with a stick to 1) see what it really is and 2) show your friend where you're looking, it darts down.

It is a lobster!

Okay, well, technically a crawdad/crayfish/crawfish.  It's surprising how red his body is, as he stumbles along the murky rocks.  After a few minutes he disappears from your view on your vantage point.  Who knew there were crawfish in the Spokane River?  Kind of neat, actually, although surprising, given how contaminated the Spokane River is.

They do say you learn something new every day.

The French

Some things we assume are too fantastical for real life. You know, the man cruising down the street, head protruding from the sunroof as he thrusts flowers in the air and declares "I love you" for all the world to hear. Or the man showing up at the airport as the woman's plane departs, only to turn around and have her standing behind him saying "I couldn't go."

The man so smitten by love (after staring at a woman for 5 minutes), that he's willing to do anything to make her happy. The woman so beautiful traffic comes to a stop as she walks down the street.

Scratch that. I've seen that one.

She was gorgeous, to be honest. Beautiful, with an almost universal appeal (only one of my guy friends could resist her charm blasting from a photo). A Frenchwoman with some Spanish mixed in, with large ember eyes and a mass of jet black hair, the professors at Academia Latinoamerica called her a gypsy*.

Being one of the few students at the superior level of classes lumped this Frenchwoman and me together for the bulk of her stay in Ecuador. We traveled together and whiled away time in Quito.

One afternoon we decided to book a trip to the rain forest. Walking down the street in La Mariscal (the tourist section of the city), traffic stopped. On her account. She was merely strolling down the dirty street with me a couple of paces behind.

It started with one car. Then two.  Traffic literally stopped to watch her walk.

In a country where blonde hair and blue eyes are prized, she stopped traffic with long black hair and flirtatious eyes. Yes, she was beautiful. With a look, she could promise a man forever and merely a moment. She had the art of seduction down to an art.

But stopping traffic? I'm impressed. It's certainly never happened to me before.

*much to her consternation. In France, it seems, being a gypsy has negative connotations, whereas in Latin America, gypsies are though of as exotic and beautiful.

A day of eating in San Francisco

San Francisco is known for good great things.  One of those things is food.  High quality food is definitely on the to-do list while on vacation.  Not that I don't love the Lake, but I'm the one cooking the entire time.  San Francisco, on the other hand...I don't have to touch a pan.

Hopping off the plane at nearly 10:30 at night, I gave up hope on a nice dinner out.  The bbf not only managed to get out of work early enough to avoid the stress of hunting down the shuttle, she had ideas for dinner.  She hadn't had time to go out in San Francisco yet, having just moved and working 12 or 14 hour days.  Crazy.  I don't think I'd have the stamina to be a doctor.

In all of her amazingness, she had wanted to make a surprise dinner: Zuppa Toscana.  Mmmm.  So good.  However, with her long schedule and a crock pot that doesn't stay on for the requisite 14 hours, it wasn't to be.  Spaghetti with homemade sauce and some bread, that's what dinner morphed into.  Hey, we don't know where to eat at 11:30pm on a Wednesday... Kudos to her cooking, though.

I take it back, I did touch a pan.  Breakfast!  I can make it myself, so I did so.  The first day I opted to spend in the Exploratorium, which, while it has many interesting things to do, does not have a very thrilling food court.  I did have some quinoa salad that was pretty tasty, but that's about all I can say about lunch.

Walking around San Francisco for the remainder of the day worked up my appetite.  Dinner was going to be at a restaurant with the bbf.  However, she recommended we try an In and Out fast food joint, so, after a few hours of walking, the manfriend and I stumbled into one.  Not wanting to ruin a much tastier dinner, the we split a combo.

Photo from The Cheesecake Factory

Eventually, after looking in store after store around Union Square, we found a sweater to keep the manfriend somewhat warm in the windy city.  A bench in Union Square finally gave my feet a reprieve, where I happened to become very aware of The Cheesecake Factory.  Who can resist that?  Mango Key Lime?  Reese's Peanut Butter Chocolate?  Vanilla Bean?  Red Velvet? Triple Chocolate?  Too many options...I wanted to try one of each!  Alas, we settled on one per person...only three... (not that we didn't split every piece between the three of us).

Due to high demands at work, the bbf didn't get off until 10pm.  Our choice for dinner was a quaint thai restaurant, Them Phanom.  Only one problem - they close at 10:30.  By the time we arrive, they graciously tell us that they are already closed.  It's 10:15, of course they don't want to seat us.  Alright.  Walking back to the car, we spot a hole in the very dirty wall: Chili Cha Cha.  Okay, we'll give that a try.  It's still food.

Best choice ever.

The curry is amazing - the perfect blend of spice and creaminess.  The cashew chicken is delicious.  I hear the pad thai is pretty awesome as well.  And best info ever for the bbf: they deliver!  The negative thing is that we requested to sit in the restaurant, and they ended up bringing us our food for take out.  Whatever.  We piled into the car and ate in the comfort of the kitchen.

And had cheesecake for dessert.

My poor aching feet...but cheesecake makes everything better

Photo from The Cheesecake Factory

Today was day número uno in San Francisco. I awoke bright and not-so-cheerfully early. For me, in the summer, 7:00 is the buttcrack of dawn-it shouldn't exist. And yet it does. My eyes partially cracked open, I pulled my phone over to examine the options for my day.

I quickly found a link yet again to the Exploratorium. I've come across it like, three times. It must be a sign.

Done. The day is decided. Off to the Palace of the Arts to learn science and play with weird experiments!

It doesn't take too long to get ready and walk out the door. The arrival to the Palace, well, takes longer than it probably should, being that part of the time is spent walking the wrong direction...or taking the bus the opposite way...but nevertheless, Adventure! San Francisco is full of beautiful architecture to be seen. Despite a few minor mishaps, arrival is within the hour.

It's easy to blow several (4) hours at the Exploratorium. More to come (with pictures) soon once I can upload them. After becoming slightly bored with the million and a half exhibits, it's time to go. Forget the aching feet and headache, it's time to walk San Francisco.

The next several hours are spent meandering the streets checking out the scenery. There are some beautiful views of Alcatraz and the bay, and some not-nearly-as-attractive views of a naked man laying in the grass...yeah...it got worse when he stood up and tried to keep pace with us...moving on...

We walk through parts of Golden Gate Park, Fisherman's Wharf, and the piers. Anyone feel the need for an Alcatraz: Psych department shirt? Eventually hundreds of tourists, myself included, shove our way onto a trolley. Escape from the hoard finally comes at Union Square, where it's time to do a bit of shopping. Who am I kidding? With names such as Bulgari, Luis Vuitton, and Saks Fifth Avenue, I'm mostly gazing into windows.

As I give my poor feet a break from standing 95% of my day, a sign catches my attention: The Cheesecake Factory. I. Must. Go. There. Being that lunch was a minuscule salad and a spoonful of quinoa with veggies, and "dinner/snack" was approximately half a combo from In and Out, I'm in the mood for cheesecake. Alright, alright, it's just an excuse. I mean, it's cheesecake!

So, climbing up to the eighth floor of the building, I paid my homage to cheesecake. Real dinner plans with the bbf, along with the huge crowds, keep me from ordering a meal. But I can buy a piece to go...Mango Key Lime sounds about right.

After about another 45 mintues, I can't handle it any longer. While waiting for the bbf to get out of work, I hide out in a Starbucks with a coffee in one hand and my cheesecake in the other. I between bites, I'm writing this blog. My feet have been aching for hours now, but miraculously, with each bite, the pain seems to disappear a little. Cheesecake. It's the miracle cure.

I should patent it or something.