10G Goes to SF; No One Gets Arrested

The occupants of 10G made the pilgrimage to SF for Chris Fry's wedding and some general hang-out time in the city we called home before we moved to the NYC and became angry and bitter. Here are the highlights and a few lows, since you can't drink for 8 days straight with out at least something semi-ridiculous happening.

I made it out there with out incident. I did, however, get called out by and old man for snoring for like 3 hours straight--embarrassed, (remarkably) I hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes--then I realized I was in the bathroom for 10 minutes which isn't exactly cool either. Finally, I remembered that I do what I want and I went back to my seat to pass out again. Hopefully, I snored really loudly and disrupted his viewing of Ocean's 12.

A $60 cab ride to Jordah's later, Nav and I hit the streets and showed up at a BBQ Birthday for a friend of ours. I got drunk. Since restaurants don't serve food passed 10pm, (my normal dining hour) if you're not paying attention, you'll miss dinner at a normal restaurant and end up at HOME ordering a bunch of sides and drinking strange gin drinks and listening to your iPod at the dinner table. Then we went to Amber, which is conveniently located across the street from Home, and even more conveniently, allows you to smoke. I had a really bad gimlet and fended off some weirdos before I realized I'd been awake for 24 hours and it was time to call it a day, or night...whatever.

See, this is why I can't blog anymore. I have the attention span of a gnat and I'm already bored with this. So this is it. I got drunk every single day, went to Soupenkuche three nights in a row and had meatloaf wrapped in bacon, went to Nori's, went to see the Pixies, my cousin got kicked out of the Pixies show (you go Dave), went sailing out to Tiburon, went to Guyma's, went to a BBQ in Marin, drove around town by myself and didn't get lost which was so money, ran into Tim, the guy I ALWAYS run into when I'm out there, got funky to James Brown, went to Napa, went to a wedding, the photographer took a picture of my breasts presumably cause they looked awesome in my dress, soent a bunch of time in the hot tub drinking pina coladas, went swimming in the Russian River, went to the beach, played horse shoes, lost, saw people I haven't seen in 17 years, watched them stare in awe as I chain smoked and cursed--I believe Will said it best "But, you're 8..." watched people get naked frolic in our hot tub making subsequent use of it impossible, danced salsa with J, did the bump with J to the Pharcyde while DJ Snowman spun on our deck (if anyone knows who that guy is or where he came from, I'd be interested to know since it seemed like he fell out of the sky) But I think the best moment came from Rob, as it often does. Rob hooked up with "Bob Marley" a white girl with dreads down to her ass. The funniest part isn't that in order to score with this chick, he had to get in the hot tub with all the other "naked people" but that she's 20 and the next morning, her PARENTS came to the house looking for her and the Turtle had to diffuse the situation sighting that all the siblings of the groom stayed over and so everything was chill. Good work Rob.