Friends, I have been back in San Francisco for the last few days.
My adventure started, as so many of my adventures do, with sitting at a bar talking to a drunk old man and then a second one about poetry and love. I don't know why they always come to me, but poetry and love are two of my favorite things to talk about anywhere, even in the middle of the afternoon in an airport bar.
I was there to celebrate a wedding, which is great because two more of my favorite things are celebrating and weddings. San Francisco itself clearly felt like this was a wedding worth celebrating, as it was sunny and warm the whole weekend. The bride was beautiful and everyone was happy, and I cannot wait until the next wedding. (There's another one in three months.)
The last time I was in San Francisco was very pleasant, with nice weather and great food and very funny people, but the city really stepped it up this time in the shenanigans and flattery departments. I did a lot of lounging and making friends with strangers, learned to meringue at 5 am, and nearly got kidnapped by a wandering band of partiers. I'm still not interested in moving there, but if the town was trying to convince me to visit more often, it definitely succeeded.