On Saturday I found myself at Civic Centre, at around 11:30 am puking next to a tree. It was regrettably not the result of some crazy all night party. Instead, it was because I had decided to end six months of pretending I had more in common with a potato than an athlete by attending a ridiculously hardcore kettlebells-cardio-trx class in SOMA. I spent most of the class thinking I was going to vomit but held it together long enough to make it to Civic Centre, whereupon I dropped to my knees and vomited into a tree.
I say into a tree because the tree was surrounded by some foul smelling liquid that I assume was pee (it being San Francisco).
While I was there, spewing a stream of coconut water and undigested apricots into an outdoor toilet I heard something that seemed out of place. It sounded like: Nice Ass. It was followed up with something along the lines of: I’m talking to you.
Huh? My vomit-addled brain reeled. It’s not like I could answer him, even if I wanted to. But then again, it being San Fran it’s likely he wasn’t necessarily thinking straight.
A moment later he came into my line of sight and asked if I was okay in a tone of voice that implied he was actually quite concerned. Which was nice. I guess. He looked less crazy than I had assumed he would. He offered to help, I declined and he stood there for a bit longer nervously watching me continue to vomit which was kind of weird.
I got up eventually, still a bit dizzy but determined to get out of there. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stumbled forward. I passed a group of guys who had been standing less than a foot away and was immediately bombarded with a flurry of “good morning gorgeous” after which came the inevitable “what you’re not going to say good morning back?”
I didn’t say anything back. I just squinted into the distance and tried to concentrate on not vomiting more. (Though a part of did want to scream: ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU JUST SAW ME VOMITING INTO THAT TREE. WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WANT TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW?)
When I got home I realized I had bits of food stuck to my face.
Sometimes.. this city. Just when I think I’m starting to fall in love with it…
(Note: the accompanying picture has nothing to do with the story, but it’s creepy-cool no? Like what is that all about?)
An invitation to be in the moment
This morning we decided on a spontaneous trip to Baker Beach with our two-year-old son.
Our city by the bay is done with Summer. That summertime fog that we wake up to is no more.
Homeward bound after a month in the USA
One day-One Hour- One Minute- It will happen. It is inevitable. Except it already has.
Top 10 Things To Do In San Francisco
If you live in San Francisco, you know to avoid Eddy and Leavenworth Street... *stab*
Wrote this the day after the attacks in Paris but was reminded of it this morning when I read the news about the bombing in Turkey
In Search of Color