The cop would have caught me had I not had a Cajun McChicken Sandwich Meal.
I was doing a brisk 115 mph southbound on Interstate-5 on my way from San Francisco to Los Angeles. The sun was dimming and dinner time had passed a couple of hours ago. "Grrrr," complained my stomach.
Plus, I had to pee. More importantly, I had to pee.
"Shit, we're a dot-com statistic," gasped Sue, "a fucking dot-com cliche!"
Tim let out a hearty guffaw. Lisa and Elliot clanked glasses and hooted.
Though we were all drinking on rumors, they were confirmed when Jackie walked through the door with a solemn look in her eyes.
"Is it true?" someone asked from behind me.
San Francisco is tabasco sauce like New York City is wasabi.
I've been in San Francisco for a little more than six months now. So I guess it's time for a temperature check on how I feel about this place.
I've got a case of them blahs
You know the kind
Hard to do just a "Ha!"
With this blah, blah mind
I just got an interesting fortune.
The old mechanical wizard from San Francisco's Musee Mecanique Museum did a magic trick (changed a little car into a little house under a cup). Then it gave me a little green piece of paper with my fortune on it.
Here's what it says:
I can feel myself slowing down already.
It's been almost three months since I moved out to the West Coast.
Behind me are the up-till-5 AM weekends (3 AM on weekdays), crowded and smelly subways, and that constant Every Second Must Be Productive feeling that I used to have.
Good bye, New York.
I'm sitting on the plane right now, on my way to San Francisco. It's about a six hour ride. The batteries on my laptop are almost gone, so I need to write this ramble quickly.
I'm nervous about Monday. I'm nervous and anxious. On Monday I start my new job.
I blame the dog for losing my pants.
Well, not the dog directly. But he was definitely indirectly involved.
"Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft."
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA