We're Not Lost, Smiddy Said Turn Right!

Let me get this clear: I didn't rag on Amanda Fox in that last post. The Amanda I was referring to was my cousin Amanda Connors, who had a similar voice to the girl in the last post, only the girl on the phone was far more pathetic. I don't want to make one of my friends think I was talking about her, because I wasn't.

Now that I've straightened that out? On to the first day in San Francisco.

After oversleeping a little and going to late mass (which seriously, St. Mary's has a crazy choir and I totally zoned out because the priest was kind of boring), we came back to grab lunch at the house and get sweaters and things for the trip to San Francisco.


We thought we were running late, so we jumped in the car and raced over to Neil's apartment to pick him up. Turns out, he had just woken up and took about 10 minutes to get ready as we tried to harass his cats to get out of their hiding spots. Once he was ready, we took off to the Warhol exhibit. We hit the YSL first, which, I wish I could've taken pictures, they were gorgeous. I want the tuxedo in there. And a few others. Anyway. After the exhibit, we took the photo tour of the Golden Gate Bridge, and then when that was done (after trying to find the wave organ, which we couldn't, even though "Smiddy" said to turn down by the yacht club and thus became a trip-long joke), we drove through Japantown and tried to figure out where to eat dinner. Which took a bit, because everywhere we thought of, the restaurant had closed recently.

We ended up at Bocce, this cute little restaurant in Little Italy, which we were afraid would be packed, but was actually completely empty except for us and some other couple. Which meant we could be as loud as we wanted. So we were. It was delicious, and it was really fun, and we were there for almost 2 hours.

Good times.