I landed in Birmingham last night, safe and sound. My father picked my up from the airport and I came directly home to write a paper. I didn't wake up until about ten this morning. My brain is still on the West Coast floating down The Embarcadero barking with the seals, flying over Alcatraz Island and over the Golden Gate Bridge. I love California. I love the health food stores, the excercise, the bright bay air and the green-thinking people. I even love Southern California with the beautiful beaches and high-breaking waves. I love that the people in San Francisco don't do the Chicago Walk down the sidewalk. (Although I confess, I DO perform the Chicago Walk down the street in Birmingham, in San Francisco, in Seattle, in Chicago. It involves looking over the heads of the people pushing past you on the sidewalk toward the place you want to go and sallying forth without mercy. The cardinal rules are as follows: Don't make eye contact with anyone. Don't change course. Don't break stride. Ever.)
I have a lot to say about my experiences in Sunny San Francisco, which is, incedentally the most beautiful city I've ever visited. I'm a little tired right now, though, and I've got to go outside and tend to the patch of weeds we call a yard before David flies home on Friday. I've lots of pictures.