Friday, June 28, 2013

You say goodbye and I say hello!

I woke in the morning feeling like P. Diddy, actually I didn't feel like that at all...

I felt like a plain old normal person who can tell the difference between toothpaste and jack Daniels...

If by chance you have no clue what I'm talking about:


I do not condone this music, by the way. It's called an earworm. It's completely true! These songs are designed to get in your head. I can't be mad though, because the Beatles were the kings of earworms. 


So I woke up, and took down my bike from its perch atop Hobbes and to Petaluma I pedaled!

The reason? Well I wanted to see where I was for sure, but the big reason was the Tillmans are fancy kitchen people with fancy coffee and soda machine things.

I didn't want this to happen:

 I looked for a plain old kettle to make tea, but couldn't find one. People without kettles? Are we joking?! That's not possible...

...and we all know one does not make tea with a microwave, even when desperate.

Yes I could have boiled water in a pot, I am aware. Instead though, I rode my bike to get coffee.

The entire time I was pedaling away I was looking around like I was Angela Lansbury with a basket on my bike and a smirk on my carefree face ready to solve mysteries and saying to myself, "I am in California, this is California, wow I'm in California!"

Aaaaaannnndddd I'm a local! Much like Denver, bikes are very common. A main form of transportation for some. I love this! Who knew I'd love bikes so much?!

Coffee, blog, bike....what a wonderful world. One that I was leaving for three days almost immediately.

Hello Petaluma! Bye Petaluma! I'm off to pick up Jon, go to yosemite, and I'll be back! Stay here, I love you!


I'm not narcissistic...I swear! But obviously San Francisco knows me and loves me...

But not enough to let me park without driving around for twenty minutes. This time elapse is apparently a miracle because it can take upwards of 45 minutes to find parking in this place...

San Fran: strike one Denver: also one strike (no ocean remember?)

Hi San Fran! Awesome ice cream! Bye!

Yosemite= the most amazing thing I've ever seen. The pictures that follow can't describe the scope of awesome, actual awe inspiring sites that are there. The park is about 40x60 miles. Lets all thank John muir now.

So there I was with my hiking group:

Oh sorry, that was a different group of seven gay men with a sassy dark haired gal...

Here's my seven gay men complete with sassy herself:


We can't decide who dopey is...we're hashing out the details, but I totally call Snow White!

Hello Yosemite!


Also, hello Bambi (what a Disney trip)! Really, it wouldn't lift it's head so I called out Bambi! And she responded!



We hiked through to the arch (I have been seeing arches across the country...Kentucky, Utah, California) and had a snack while admiring one of the greatest rock climbing areas on the face of the EARTH!


The more things I check off my list of things to do, the more I see.  The more I see, the more things I want to do.  It's exhausting.  Added to the list, climb half dome:


We whistled while we worked our butts off up the hills.  I proved once again that East coast in shape is just shape...you're not IN anything.  You're mostly just OUT of breath.


And everywhere that Mary went (gay joke) or in this case, MarIES...North Dome was there to stare at.  We stared and stared AND STARED and it never stopped being the most amazing thing I've seen.




We all broke camp in the shadow of Half Dome.  We were on North Dome here, this is the home of all of the mosquitoes of California...I'm pretty sure.  I did some pretty awesome Mosquito dances here.  My interpretive dancing has become something spectacular since this camp out!


We hiked, as Nicholas says in his very explicit directions of where we go, "down, up, down and up again."  We went down to get water, up to basket dome, and then back the way we came.  Here is our view from Basket Dome.  Seriously it's the most amazing thing to experience!  AND if you look closely you can see what the natives called the weeping woman.  The legend escapes me now, but it involves her waiting for some lost lover or other. We all saw everything on the Half Dome from Michael Jackson to the number 8.  We conclude that we're all pretty insane.



The fire was necessary.  ONE: I'm a pyro TWO: mosquitoes.








And I spent my most romantic night in California with 7 strapping (gay) men watching the sun set in Yosemite and staying out until the chill ran us back into our tents.  We saw so many shooting stars, discussed why Fresno is a light polluter and huddled together contemplating the secret to life.  I think we may have found a piece of the secret...

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