San Francisco April 17, 2012

Bob and I arrived at the airport dark and early.  The sun had not yet risen.  We made it through security unscathed but I did get my very first- wait for it- PAT DOWN!  Maybe it was my suspicious gait and demeanor, or maybe it was the strip tease I did while disrobing.  Shoes, jacket, belt...It's all about perspective.  I could've taken them all off the way I do at home, but how often do I get an audience of a hundred or so people?  The pat down was not as intimate as I had hoped for, but after all, it was my first time.

While I on the plane I watched the flight attendant model and display the oxygen mask.  How does one acquire a flight oxygen mask without actually participating in a flight disaster?  Any ideas?

In the Dallas Airport I saw these very strange signs:

I can't imagine what kind of severe weather would be happening in there, unless they are referring to the automatic flushing toilets.  In case you think it might be a female thing; there was one at the men's room too.

From the airport we took a shared shuttle.  The young girl sitting in the front seat insisted on keeping her headphones in her ears and saying, "What? What? What?" the woman behind us kept complaining about how long she'd been sitting in the shuttle, and the driver, who's accent was was thick and voice far too low to reach the back seat, kept having to repeat himself, "Miss Diana...where you go?" while driving AND trying to program his GPS.  The young girl asked if he would like her to take the wheel.  That's when he decided to pull over.

While at the airport we found the pariah section jokingly called the smoking section.  It's inside the green lines.  Yes, San Francisco, the most unfriendly city to smokers in the world.

We arrived safe and sound at our host's home where he was waiting for us with a smile.  He showed us around his home, which was built in 1883, and ran off to work.  We headed out to get some transportation passes and then down to Fisherman's Wharf.  We didn't actually make it that far.  The temperature was dropping and I needed some socks.  Yes, I know that socks with Birkenstocks will make me stand out as the tourist that I am, but I'm okay with that.

We found a little restaurant in the Ferry Building where I ordered far more than my stomach can possibly hold.  Then we took a trolley back home.

Along our travels we saw one man who didn't seem to be bothered by the cold at all.

While I'm usually the first to say, "When in Rome..." I'm not taking my clothes off.

Off to Chinatown today. Anyone need me to pick them up a chicken or two?