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No, it’s not a bar that doesn’t serve alcoholic drinks. (As if I’d ever go to one of those…puh-leeze). It’s a “bar” that blow dry and styles your hair! Pookie and I celebrated our birthdays last weekend and she graciously treated me to the Dry Bar @ Santana Row. All I can say is it’s incredible what they did to my normally frizzy hair in only an hour. I felt so beautimous! Everyone was really nice and they offer coffee, tea, water, or a mimosa upon arrival. I would definitely schedule an appointment and not rely on just dropping in. This place was hopping! It’s a $35 investment, but absolutely worth it for a special occasion or just a special treat.

We also treated ourselves to pedicures and a yummy lunch. FUN FUN doing such girly things.


I’m only a week late in posting this, but I’ve been busy. Last Friday me and a group of work peeps spent an hour (or so) on the pier waiting for the Space Shuttle Endeavor to fly by on the back of a 747. I’m so lucky that my work is located at Aquatic Park where the view is outstanding on a regular day. Throw in a space shuttle and a 747 and voila…the view is magically delicious!

Unfortunately, my photos didn’t do the fly-by justice. Thankfully, Pookie got a fantastic close-up shot from the roof of her building. Spectacular!

Today started off with a 3-mile walk to Crissy Field/House of Air for a company picnic. After bouncing on the trampoline and having a nice lunch on the grass a few us walked the 3 miles back to the office. That’s when I took this pic of the GG…it was so stunning I could have stood there all day staring at it. The entire walk back was so dang enjoyable & picturesque. I just love, love, LOVE San Francisco!

Then, of course, there’s the not-so-picturesque side of SF. I had to get in a few hours of work after the picnic so I finally left the office around 3. I could have kicked myself when I realized I’d be catching the bus home with all the riffraff from the high school around the corner. (O.J. Simpson went to high school here if that gives you any indication of the youths I’m dealing with). As I’m waiting for the bus there’s a bit of commotion. I realize one of the riffraff is egging on one of my crazy street peeps. I’ve seen this “lady” plenty of times and she’s just a toothless loon with a drug problem (and a hygiene problem, but let’s not get caught up in the details). As they’re wandering into the street the punk throws down his backpack and pulls one of those “come on, you wanna fight” moves a la Boyz in the Hood. Now, I call her “the Spitter” and if that doesn’t tell you to keep your distance I don’t know what to tell you. They danced around each other for a while and a few adults from the school were (very poorly) trying to monitor the situation until she pulled her signature move. It’s amazing how far things fly when you have no teeth. Everyone spread out like it was Moses parting the Red Sea!! Someone finally got a hold of the Spitter and kept her from boarding the bus (thank goodness) and I rode home with my face squished to the window along with 2000 punky teenagers. Good times.

Rarely a dull day, I do LOVE SF!

Author’s note: For those of you thinking I should have hoofed it home, remember I’d already walked 6 miles. Also, I had a few samples from work which included a jar of pasta sauce as well as my farmshares which included a melon!


The Spitter

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