You won’t need directions.

There is so much to love about this video: the amateur sketch, the special leprechaun flute, “could be a crackhead,” and that man’s brilliant theory:

[via Dooce]

June was stuffed. I’m going to tell you about it, but backwards.

Yesterday I woke up in San Francisco in a bed I like very much. It’s a bed that bites my shins when I walk by it, leaving bruises for days, but I don’t mind. There is a soft blanket and it’s plenty big and when you sit up in it there is a window you can see straight out of. It’s a view of Twin Peaks and Noe Valley. Sometimes the crests of the dual mountains can be clearly seen, but yesterday there were no hilltops at all only fog. I put on a shirt and a cardigan and then a jacket on the day before July and walked to the train to go to work.

Later in the afternoon I went to see my therapist. Have I mentioned I’m going to therapy? Oh yes, girl, and why I didn’t go years ago is beyond me. I love it. I love her. My therapist is amazing; I want us to be best friends. My friend tells me this is called transference. I just think it’s strange to tell someone such intimate things about yourself and not want to know more about her, too. Anyway, it’s fantastic and I’m glad I’m going; I look forward to seeing her every week.

Then I watched the Bachelorette because that DeAnna chick embodies everything that is evil and wrong with pretty princess-types. It’s fascinating. You should see how often she blinks her eyes. It would reveal all you needed to know.

Sunday at around noon I went to Taza in the Misison for brunch with Ian MacBean. He’s enjoyable to eat brunch with because he is thoughtful. He’ll score two sections of the Chronicle from the community table, ask you which you’d like to read, then hand that section over to you. So, I like to eat with him. I ordered a veggie scramble with fruit instead of potatoes and whole wheat toast. I was very proud of my selection because a) baguette was another of my bread options and b) come on, breakfast potatoes are way tastier than fruit. I couldn’t go around feeling virtuous all day so I went to Mitchell’s ice cream on San Jose after that and bought an ice cream cake for a friend’s birthday. I selected a white cake with chocolate ice cream because Molly is allergic to mangoes and Mike is allergic to nuts. I was able to get writing on it even though I didn’t call ahead or anything, so I was very pleased. Plus there wasn’t a long line, which is par for the course at Mitchell’s apparently.

Then I watched two episodes of season 2 of The Wire (so good!) with Ian, who is introducing me to the series. We are also watching Twin Peaks (may the White Lodge treat you well, Major Briggs), but at a slower rate. After a quick lie down with McNulty there was gardening! The garden in Ian’s backyard is tended to by many hands. It is a fun sort of group garden, and for my part I harvested the collard greens and planted heirloom tomatoes. (With plenty of supervision, mother, I can see your face.) Later that night there was grilling and salad making and bread and cheese eating and wine sharing and general merriment. I have stumbled onto some phenomenal fucking people.

Saturday my sweet Lisey met me briefly and brought me a delicious thing called a morning bun which is like a flaky, powdery pastry thing that I thought about for two days. I was grateful that she did; it was all I had before I left to play in my work league’s softball tournament. Back when in this interview process at KPIX the guy interviewing me asked if I had any softball experience. When I said plenty, I saw eyes light up. I knew this was my in immediately (not really), so I had to live up to the expectation once hired on. And so I played. To say that I suck at softball now, in my 30s would be pretty harsh, but I’m not so hot. I’m sporting a bruise on my ankle right now from attempting to play catcher in a playoff game. It is not pretty and neither is my swing. I’m probably selling myself short, and besides playing was always fun. Especially when we won, which was 8 times out of 14.

Friday night was pretty chill. I went to a blogger meet-up at Zeitgeist in the Mission. Met up with Valleywag writers and Curbed writers and Greg! from N-Judah Chronicles. It was fun, if not a little strange, as those events can sometimes be. I didn’t stay long, as I didn’t much feel like socializing, frankly. Otherwise my night was chill. I’m fairly certain using the word “chill” in such a manner is not something I would have done before moving to California, and seeing it in print has given me pause. However, let’s move on.

Thursday [REDACTED]

Wednesday I had a nice, long heart-to-heart with my CPA about what I (finally) owe for taxes this year. It should be noted that I just finished a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which is how it is going to be around here for mama for a while. For the same reason I like to eat with Ian, I also was able to score a free seat to the Phillies/A’s game that night. Because he is thoughtful. A big group of us went, and there were french fries and beer and all was well. I liked finding all the Phillies hats, as there were many. And one Schmidt jersey directly to my right.

I had some cupcakes that blew my mind with a cute girl with the name Caitlin. I have always liked that name. We drank milk with our cupcakes in the late afternoon sunshine, and it felt very wonderfully earnest. I had a neapolitan selection. The tiny ones tickled me the most. The strawberry one with the littlest pearl sprinkles on top was the best, and I wished I’d gotten that one as the big one. Rarely does a flavor trump that of chocolate on my tongue, so these strawberry bites were something extraordinary.

I broke my computer sometime this month. Sort of. I left a glass of champagne on the table where my laptop was sleeping. Cooper dog walked by and knocked the glass over with his tail, briefly spilling some beneath the computer’s undercarriage. It was enough so that it won’t even start again. NOTE TO READERS: Do not tell the Apple Geniuses. I’m playing dumb. Can’t think about the cost of the alternative.

I went to lunch with Lisey and we had bloody marys made with cilantro and habeneros. I got a nice fire in my belly while we talked. She is easy to talk to, and there are few women I’d rather have a drink and a chat with.

I went hiking in Bolinas, which is a tiny town in Marin County, north of San Francisco. Residents of the town take down signs so that their secluded wonderland isn’t overrun, so it can be tough to find. After two softball games Ian and I hiked about 2 miles to meet up with his friends who had arrived earlier. We hiked along the headlands, along steep cliffs overlooking a black Pacific Ocean beach. The water was a deep teal from way up there, and I was overcome by its beauty and vastness, but more than that by its proximity. I’ve never lived so close to the ocean, especially not this one. Now, I can see it or touch it or smell it every day if I want. We hiked to a lake further inland where friends were already floating. The water was cold but clear, and it felt amazing to swim out into the still, wet depths that sat in the bowl of those woods. The scenery was so foreign to me. I had never been to a place that looked like that. So, I swam in it. I floated in the middle and looked all around, and felt a little like a birth. I’m sure my friends will be thrilled to know that there was any birthing going on in that lake, but despite laughing at rope swing attempts and drinking beer in a float, I was also taking it all in. The lake chilled me that day, and I couldn’t stay very long, but it left a deep impression.

I made dinner one night as well. This is a nightly ritual for many people, but I can count on my hands the number of meals I have made for people other than myself. It was just a pasta dish, but it came out great. I’m proud of that lemon fettucine.

And with that, I wrap up the June review. All told, it was one of the very best Junes of my life.

…or until I take them down.

Yesterday one of my WKRN t.v. spots was featured at the popular SFist. Oh man.

I really like the website for the book I bought yesterday. I also really like the book. So far.

I have been in the Bay Area over six months, and I still can’t dress myself. How am I supposed to be able to look nice when I have to change clothes four times a day depending on which side of the water I’m on, how close to said water I actually am, whether their is shade or not or if the sun has gone down? Heels — any dress shoes in general — are out, since I walk close to four miles a day to and from work. So, yes, I know: layers, layers, layers along with comfortable shoes. But I don’t have that. Where I’m from you have your summer clothes and your winter clothes. I’ve got big, chunky sweaters and teeny tiny tank tops. I’ve got heavy wool coats and sundresses, and ne’er the two shall meet. Slowly I’ve got to incorporate thin scarves, long sleeved t-shirts, thin undershirts, hoodies and light jackets into my wardrobe. My sneakers and boots are all in need of repair due to the tons of mileage they’ve seen while a dozen or more pairs of high heels, wedges and other impractical shoes sit prettily and ignored.

These days I basically wear jeans and two shirts, one t or tank under a long-sleeved something. I’m accumulating more skirts and layer-y type tops, along with wraps and scarves and other layers you can add that don’t add much bulk to myself or in my bag. And that’s another thing, since I’m never in a car I can’t keep things in there. So, while I’m changing four times a day I have to find a place to put those necessary layers, so they travel with me on my person. Therefore the thinner, the better, so long as the items are sufficiently warm.

Frankly, I’ve never had to think about clothes and shoes in such a utilitarian fashion before. I used to buy ewhat I liked — whatever was pretty and what looked good on me. I bought warm weather clothes and cold weather clothes, and never would I wear them on the same day, rarely even the same month. But here the climate is temperate, pretty much the same throughout the year without a lot of variance. However the variance in weather within a single day can be staggering, especially if traveling transbay. I’ve literally left my house in Berkeley in a tank top, sweating, only to arrive in San Francisco, atop one of its famous hilltops, in a backyard canyon, to find the wind whipping up such chilly air that I had to seek out extra layers.

“It never hurts to take a jacket,” is a pretty good mantra, and something I always try to do. But that jacket has to live somewhere on days like today when it was 82 at 7 p.m. in the city, where almost no one has air conditioning. This is why so many urban dwellers, men and women alike, carry big bags around with them. Who knew? I certainly didn’t.

I’m getting it figured out slowly, but I’ve still got far to go. One can’t up and trade in her existing wardrobe for a new, more-area appropriate one, but I’m getting there. Like today, I bought this dress. Perfect for warm days today, so long as there is a thin, but wind-fighting cardigan to go with it. And maybe a jacket on top of that for later that night.

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(Not my receipt.)

UPDATE: I’ve linked to more info about the 4% health care charge in the comments.

Taken in the Bay Area. Hooray for mass transit.

UPDATE: This one was taken in San Mateo:

A photo of one of my favorite little girls has just decided my day. Today I will dream big, play hard, imagine impossibilities and do so with my tongue sticking out. I might even wear a cape.