Friday morning I waited, scared to move. Nothing happened, no pain. So, off I went to San Francisco! And it was a much better day than the day I prayed to The Lady of Guadalupe.

Things about San Francisco: people are mostly nice (except the ones who are mean and won’t let you use their washroom). In San Francisco holding a map makes for the most comical interactions. I started to write about them, but I couldn’t keep up; I could write a whole book full of sketches of all of the characters I’ve met the last few days. Let me just give you an idea: I’ve eaten pears in the yard with hippies at a Berkeley woman’s collective, nearly cried over a Turkish woman telling me about the children of incestuous marriages, ran away from a cab when the driver who didn’t know how to drive his cab insisted that he did, and raced some old dude in a wheelchair. Yup. Good times.

I’m going to post some of my poor and scanty selection of travel photos, then back to the house hunt.