In a Western Place

The search for the perfect day bag had become a mild obsession of mine for nearly 2 years! And it wasn’t like I was looking for something unreasonable, in fact, my criteria was fairly basic: one large compartment, one small compartment, one pocket for phone and wallet, a hook to hang my keys, and a comfortable strap. Well I’m happy to say that after all of my searching (buying and returning) I found THE bag!

I found these photos that I took of my apartment in Nob Hill where I lived with two other gals (now pals) for six months. It was only a temporary living situation from the start, but I left with a lot of memories. I miss how the warm sunlight would explode through my bedroom window in the morning. I miss listening to my 20-something roommate’s tales of adventure. I miss how my daily hikes up and down California street turned my legs into steel.

While not nearly as picturesque as the famous Lombard street, Vermont street is another most crookedest street in San Francisco. Located in Potrero Hill, it’s a fun drive with a lovely view of the city (minus the distraction of photo snapping tourists.)

I’ve got a black thumb, so I rely on freshly cut flowers and succulents to make our home a bit more home-y. Both are low maintenance; flowers can be tossed into the compost after 2 weeks and the succulents require minimal watering. This week’s blossoms were acquired at the Alemany Farmer’s Market, my favorite place to buy all things floral.

Hey everybody, meet Henry. Henry (shown here in white) is the cyst that’s taken residence behind my right knee, causing me a great deal of pain, discomfort and inconvenience (remember the day before my wedding?) We have a strong love-hate relationship… Henry loves my knee, I hate Henry. Anyway, Henry’s a big pain in my ass knee and he’s got to go.