Aerial photo of San Francisco taken by Jaeha, our man in the field. And sky.
portland and environs
Cool kids, coffee, old (and new) friends, scenery: visiting Oregon last weekend for a wedding...
From top:
- Stumptown Roasters
- McMenamins @ Edgefield
- Ace Hotel in Portland/Clyde Common
- Stumptown Roasters, close-up
- kids bike chaos
- Stumptown Roasters, view from the front window
- the Pearl District, near downtown Portland
- devolving
- J. Raymond in forced pose @ McMenamins
- Mt. Hood, scenic backdrop for the meteor shower later in the evening (few braved the cold) / room @ the Ace Hotel
- Portland signage/kids' table
- J @ Ace hotel
- driving, some serious greenery above (outside?) of Portland
august evening
four point two
Today began with an earthquake... At just before 5 (so I've read), we were awakened by rattling blinds and a shaking bed. After initial sleepy annoyance (what IS that?!), it took one second to realize it was not only the bed but the entire room/building/block/city that was moving. This was my second earthquake and the first was much kinder and gentler - we were sitting on the floor eating pizza, and the apartment just swaaayed back and forth. It was so mild that for a split second we actually thought the upstairs neighbors were just cranking the bass on their stereo again.
Number two had much more going on. No one that I've spoken to slept through it, and more than one person mentioned getting a little concerned as the shaking kept on as long as it did. Growing up in the midwest, the natural threats we dealt with (tornadoes, blizzards) usually came with at least a little warning: the icons in the bottom corner of the tv screen (white for a watch, red for a warning), enough time to run to the basement or to make a last trip to the grocery store for bottled water and jiffy pop. The Big One (earthquake) that's long been predicted for the west coast isn't going to give the luxury of a 'heads-up.' Its just going to happen...when we're sleeping or at work or walking home from dinner out.
In general, keeping track of the details that different climates/altitudes require reassures me. I like packing sunscreen and having to drink water. Knowing you need to hike early to avoid summer lightning and storms, that your towel will take two hours to dry in Denver, two days to dry (if at all) in Martha's Vineyard, etc. The earthquake thing has me a little off guard. You can look at the maps and know where the faults are. And you can put together an earthquake kit of bottled water and chocolate to help you get through the days after if a major one occurs. But, aside from sleeping under your dining room table, that's about it.
Dude. The control freak in me does not like this one bit.
(PS. Looking forward to WordCamp this weekend)
thursday 9am
welcome back
72 hours in denver
d.i.a.
Fabric Lab fashion show @ Colfax
more from Fabric Lab
The Bluebird
17th St, July evening
*Apologies, the best parts of the weekend didn't get photographed! Two hands were needed for dogs, toddlers, lemonade from Zoe, and yardwork; none free to take pix. Next time!
box on the rock
A couple of weekends ago, we attended ExpreSCION San Francisco, courtesy of J's employer. Sponsored by Scion*, it promised a "multi-sensory art experience" on Alcatraz with "cutting edge music, fashion, performance, and art." Neither of us had been to Alcatraz before, though its been on the to-do list for some time, and a night visit with cocktails and thumping soundtrack sounded like just our thing.
(*To refresh your memory, Scion is well-known for their urban suv resembling a milk truck...)
The crowd was made up of (I assume) Scion owners and those who love them, plus assorted hangers-on like ourselves. Most were decked out in a mix of ironic tshirts, knee-high boots, knit hats, suits, heels and eyeliner for both sexes. I believe there was a healthy amount of faux fur as well. On the ferry ride over we spotted two cast members from the Boston and Seattle seasons of the Real World, the extent of celebrity sightings.
Upon arrival, we funneled through the main cellblock to the dining hall on the far end. The long, very low-ceilinged room was the location of the only bar, live music on a stage at one end and projections everywhere. The space was quickly packed with bodies and stayed that way all night, with people constantly circling in the queue for bottles of flavored sake or plastic cups of wine.
In the basement, the shower room became an impromptu runway for "eco-conscious" fashion; the chapel upstairs housed a gallery, dj, and live painting event. There was also another wing containing a circus performance, which we missed. Aside from these areas, you were able to wander along quiet stretches of the prison untouched by events staff, and the effect in contrast was quite unsettling.
After spending a couple of hours checking everything out, we felt like we'd maxed out the experience and made our way back down to the boat launch, where we quickly discovered...nothing. No boats back. At this point the crowd seemed a little disgruntled: they weren't quite drunk enough, the high-heels were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and they were stuck on Alcatraz. I would be disgruntled too (and was, a little. Adidas helped).
After an hour or so, during which the crowd surprisingly kept at a simmer, the first return ferry arrived, and we rushed to get on along with the other two hundred people waiting. You would've thought we'd been on the island for a week: the relief was palpable. People sprawled on chairs, on the floor, anywhere possible, and ordered six packs and multiple shots at the bar for the fifteen-minute trip back to SF.
Very interesting evening. Cool idea, go Scion.
24 hours on Endor
Work has been particularly busy these past few weeks, but last Saturday morning J and I found ourselves in the unusual position of not needing to spend the entire weekend in front of our laptops. We sat around aimlessly for a bit, and then wandered out around the block to get some coffee. We were greeted by the setting-up of the Fillmore Jazz Festival and early hardcore festival-goers. Fillmore St. was blocked off from Jackson Street (top of the hill) down to south of Geary...many blocks! Three stages, lots of crafty booths and, even at that hour of the morning, delicious-smelling grilled things (oysters!). We took a spin partway down the hill and back and realized our neighborhood was going to quickly become a madhouse. While I tend to enjoy street-festival-chaos... Jae, not so much. So we moved on to Plan B: getting out of town. J got out the map (google maps, that is) and decided our destination would be Armstrong Redwoods State Reserve, about 2 hours north, in Guerneville, near the Russian River.
The park is very quiet and peaceful, and a few degrees cooler once you walk into the shade. The trails are soft, padded with woodchips/sawdust; I like to think it was natural, but its possibly some very attentive grooming by the park service. It makes for a nice walk...
You can't really tell from the photos, but this looked *very much* like the backdrop for the Ewok planet in Return of the Jedi. We had a disagreement about how much power George Lucas really has, and if he could wield his checkbook and bring a massive camera crew into the park. Later we discovered that he actually filmed in a *private* redwood forest somewhere not too far away. (Who has a private redwood forest?)
As we found ourselves in the Russian River Valley (quite inadvertantly), we decided to stop at one of the many wineries in the area. Easier said than done, my friend! For the better part of an hour, every sign and arrow we followed led us in circles, through twisting backroads, passing field after field of vines that all started to look like one big green picturesque blur. Good thing that was *before* the wine tasting. After a particularly twisty and disorienting span of road, we landed at the driveway of the Joseph Swan winery. A very small operation... pretty much four guys and some grapes. Awesome.
Our busy afternoon of nature and scenery wound down, and we spent the night in nearby Santa Rosa. One of their claims to fame is being the birthplace of Charles Schultz, which I didn't know (the very large statues of Snoopy littered around Railroad Square didn't immediately tip me off). The next day we headed back to the city, where we spent the better part of an hour trying to find parking within a mile of our neighborhood. A very successful 24 hour adventure, I'd say.
up next...
Our Visit to the Ewok Planet
flashback: idyllic
Summer in Boulder: rare coffee date @ Spruce Confections before work