Welcome to San Francisco

So, this blogging thing; very unlike me I know, but I have a friend with a blog and in order to post a comment you have to go through this whole process, where, low and behold, you get your own blog. But it might not be a bad thing because now I can hopefully keep in contact with all you East Coasters and let you know how my life is progressing (or degenerating) out here.

Scenes From My Neighborhood

A man on the stoop outside a laundromat with his neck cut from chin to collar, blood running down like veins in marble.
Mexican guitar music from the restuarant across the street with a heavy full moon right over the intersection outside my building.
Gigantic sunflowers, irises, and lilies sold outside my laundromat making it smell pretty and fresh.
A decapitated pigeon and the queen of clubs on the sidewalk outside Amnesia.
Confused New England girl wandering streets of the Mission trying to figure out arcane parking rules and regulations.

So a running counter to be started:
12 days in S.F.
12 days unemployed in S.F.