First of Many

This upcoming weekend marks the family's social event of the year, my cousin Ashley's wedding.  The photo above was taken at our house in London in the fall of '88, when Ashley and family came to visit us in England.  Ashley is just six months younger than me, the daughter of my mother's brother, Albert, who also happens to be my godfather, and she's marrying Ryan Taylor, a baseball-loving businessman from Santa Rosa.  Perhaps what is most exciting about the occasion is that it kicks off a new generation of Gomes family grown-up celebrations.  She's the first of the cousins to wed, and before we know it there will be more veils and three-tiered cakes and even christenings.  I'm so excited for her and our new addition to the family, Ryan.  We're sending serene vibes your way as you guys prepare for the big day!  Much love.

Wildgoose Chase: Jodi's 25!

Today is my lovely friend Jodi's birthday, and this weekend we whipped out the chocolate ganache to celebrate with her in SF.  We gathered at Brittany's house for dinner and dessert before gracing the Mission with our presence and more importantly, our dance moves.

I was so glad to be able to be a part of this event.  I feel like I've missed so much in the past couple years in Italy that something as simple as a birthday dinner together with my girlfriends had me so happy I was on the edge of tears!  As Jodi put it, "I really like you guys as my friends."  Well, Jod, we kind of like you, too.

 

The next day a few of us went to brunch before heading to Dolores Park to enjoy the sunshine.  There were many things competing for our attentions, including obnoxiously drunk vikings, muscular dogs and other flying objects, and these vivid girls, some covered in gel or poms or spiky abdomens, but none actually covered well at all.

Happy Quarter of a Century, Jodi!  Thanks for not dressing like this when we go out.

SF: "So close I can smell the dirt"

No all-American trip would be complete without a baseball game, and my dad was able to get us stellar tickets in the third row right next to the Giant's dugout for a game against the Nationals a couple weeks back.  Our seats were so good that Brittany said we were, "So close I can smell the dirt."  We could even see right into the dugout, and Bochy scowled at me once, making me feel very special.

The experience down in those seats is very different from anywhere else.  There are waiters who deliver excellent food right to your seats so you never miss a play, extremely privileged men who drape their sweaters over their shoulders, and a fantastic view of the Giants' stretching techniques before the go up to bat (imagine lots of bending). 

We put a lot of effort into rooting for The Panda, and Pablo looked right at us several times (I guess it's hard to miss the girl wrapped in a Giants snuggie with bright orange troll hair).  Brittany favored Crawford's stretching while Letizia was more partial to Pence.  Perhaps most notably, this may just be the last photo taken of Melky Cabrera's tush before his drug suspension:

Mom and I had spent hours teaching Letizia the rules of the game, and she caught on quickly.  It was a fantastic game, and most importantly just a really fun night spent with friends and family.

This man stuck around for a bit after the game doing interviews, and we sneaked through the crowd to get his autograph.   I giggled out, "Hi Brandon," Brittany grazed his fingertips, Letizia practically had a whole conversation with him, and when Daniel finally got his turn, Brandon Belt decided to call it a day.

And now, because laughter heals the soul and makes us all live longer, and because I have enough confidence that my pride can bounce back from a serious blow, I present to you Letizia's candid, entitled, "Call Me Maybe".

 

The following day we headed right back to the city to see Les Miserables.  We laughed, we cried, we hummed the tunes for days, you know the drill.  I was so happy to finally see another musical!

On Letizia's last day here, she and I drove out to Marin county to visit Muir Woods.  We made an impromptu stop at Muir Beach first, where we ate our picnic and watched kids trying to surf in the freezing water.

The whole day was an adventure, and as there was something around every corner that would excite Letizia, we made frequent stops.  It made me look at everything in a new light.

I'd never been to Muir Woods, and I knew Letizia would appreciate the natural landscape in Marin.  The redwoods were glorious and so peaceful.  We spent an hour wandering through the woods, learning about the magnificent trees, and reflecting on from where the impressionists drew their inspiration. 

 

Later that evening we crossed the Golden Gate to meet Gio at the Academy of the Sciences for their Thursday night cocktail party.  We didn't have a lot of time because we'd promised ourselves home for a delicious surf & turf dinner with my parents, but I think Letizia enjoyed seeing what we could of the event.  Mostly, I think she appreciated the drive over the bridge and along Divisadero in the city.  She's right there with me on believing that it's not about the destination, but the journey.

And then somehow, it was time for her to depart.  We had had so much fun together and made so many happy memories in just two weeks.  I loved having such a beloved piece of Italy here with me, even for a short while, and it was so hard to send her off!  She is such a hungry traveler, always excited to learn more about the culture and take the road less traveled for an authentic experience.  She was legitimately overjoyed with any and everything we did.  I'm certainly going to miss having her around, but California will await her return!

Grazie di cuore, Leti, per la tua amicizia e tutta la gioia che tu porti con te.  Mi manchi!  Alla prossima volta in California...

(Wide angle photos credit: Letizia Nardi)

LA: The Search for Class

It is necessary to preface this post with this: I'm not LA's biggest fan.  My friends there tell me this is because it's trendy to hate on LA, but this is not a recently developed sentiment of mine.  I grant that LA offers a lot of cultural experiences and noteworthy attractions, and there's an irresistible buzz that one might stumble upon a celebrity around the next corner.  But the socioeconomic polarization depresses me and the traffic congestion frustrates me and the Scientologists frighten me and the skinny bitches (excuse me) make me want to throw up, but not in a bulimic way.  Still, it's fun to visit, and if LA's where I have to go to see my friends every once in awhile, well, I guess it could be worse.

Charlotte hosted us near Pasadena, at the Spanish-style house of a family friend for whom she was dog-sitting.  It was a charming place with a bar that reminded me of something from The Graduate and a bathroom that looked like the Chanel make-up counter at Bloomingdale's, over-stocked with spanking-new lipsticks.  

The first night she picked us up from Union Station and we headed to a colorful Oaxacan restaurant for mole, margaritas, and Mexican music, where we met up with Char's boyfriend, Josh.  Later that night we went to a hipster bar in the middle of a questionable neighborhood that had an awesome vibe and is apparently frequented by Terry from True Blood.

The next day we focused on Venice Beach, which I rightly knew would blow Letizia's mind.  She was ooh-ing and ahh-ing her way down the boardwalk as we tried on stunner shades, watched a bunch of Ken-doll Europeans practice their Olympic rings talents, turned down medical marijuana, drafted a screenplay for the rad skateboarding chick at the park, and checked out people with fairy tattoos and orange hair and rap albums for sale and giant signs dedicated to Jesus.  Sensation overload.

For Letizia and me, despite all the other great things we saw there, the highlight was the gospel concert taking place in the center.  People were dancing and worshiping unabashedly and we only wished we had had enough gumption to join in because it looked like more fun than anything, ever.  See for yourself.

We spent the afternoon relaxing and chatting at the pool at Char's house with her parents, and I think this was the highlight for Letizia, just getting to see a real family in a real house in LA.  There's nothing like getting a private, personal experience in a new city and seeing how people really live there.  Plus they all watch True Blood, and she never has so many people with whom she can discuss that show.

Then that night we all met up with Ian in West Hollywood and there are no photos and perhaps you should be thankful, because the neighborhood is rather, shall I say, cheeky.

On our last day, we braved LA's metro system to meet Ian back in Hollywood for lunch and a visit to the Getty museum.  He took us to a retro establishment called The Apple Pan, which was famous for its classic burgers and apple pie, and we indulged ourselves.

The Getty was fantastic.  Its collection is expansive, with everything from the Italian Renaissance to Impressionism to 20th century American photography.  (Really, there was a lot more, but these were the highlights for me!)  The main exhibit we wanted to see was Herb Ritts, who is famous for his predominately black and white photos and commercials that venerated the human body's lines, forms, and musculature while challenging society's conventions of gender and race.

There was also a great view over the entire city, where we could see from downtown all the way to the coast.

The structure of the museum was also beautiful.  I told Ian that I'd heard that the architecture of the museum tends to overshadow the collection.  He groaned and responded, "Charlotte said that, didn't she?"  Spot on.

 (Wide angle photos credit: Letizia Nardi)

SD: "This way you ain't got no doubt"

In the planning stages of Leti's California trip, it took some persuading to convince her of the virtues of San Diego and Los Angeles.  Of course, I had many more a pleasant thing to say about the former, but nonetheless she was easily convinced it would behoove her to visit both.  We flew down to San Diego first, accompanied by my mom, aunt, and grandmother.

We always stay at the Navy Base North Island on Coronado, and they've made some excellent upgrades including a pool and a rooftop terrace.  The hotel's best feature, its beachfront location, is as glorious as always, providing us with many impromptu walks along the water.

We did have one complaint, however.  Our first night we checked with reception to find out that the continental breakfast ends at 9am, and so we planned to wake up in time for it.  What felt like just a few hours later, my mom shakes me awake, saying, "Kelly!  Breakfast ends in 10 minutes!"  So we all throw ourselves out of bed, pull on some clothes, and head towards the elevator.  At this point I check my phone, which says it's just around 7, propelling me into a profound sense of confusion.  I tell the girls about it, and our fellow elevator-riders confirm the earlier time.  The alarm clock by the bed was set to the wrong time, and we had awakened early and rushed to breakfast unnecessarily.  We laughed it off and enjoyed a jump start to the day.  We decided to memorize the lag on the clock and compensate for it.  Still, the next morning I had the opportunity to feel like I was in Home Alone 2, because my mom shook me awake once more and called out, "Kelly, we did it again!"  This time, however, I had learned to double check, and in reality it was before 6am, because the clock's delay had increased!  Letizia and mom decided to get up anyway, but I shrugged them off and rolled over, cursing alarm clocks, which is not what one should have to do on vacation.  We couldn't stop chuckling about it all trip.

Our first day out and about I decided I wanted to provide my group with a decidedly authentic San Diego experience, so we headed to the rather unsavory National City to enjoy some savory treats at Marisco's German Taco Truck.  I had wanted to visit the truck in Ocean Beach, but the glory and the downfall of food trucks lies in their very mobility: sometimes they simply up and move on you.  In the end, still, National City provided a much more colorful experience.

Above, you'll find my Portuguese grandmother trying to come to terms with her unusual lunch option (photo credit: Letizia Nardi).  My aunt jumped right on board, and having immediately found a large, tattooed Mexican man whose lunch she found enticing, she approached him and asked about his meal.  They hit it off, having both lived in Livermore, CA, and he told her all about his taco, even agreeing to give her a bite.  While the rest of us gaped on, my aunt was just excited to know what she wanted to order, and her new friend was happy to promote the truck.  He just shrugged, "This way you ain't got no doubt."  Well said.

All the while Letizia looked on in wonder, trying to imagine how she could be so lucky to have ended up at a taco truck in National City, CA.  Go figure!

Next we headed to Balboa Park, where we walked off our tacos and took in the lush landscape.  

We took our customary ferry ride from Coronado to the mainland and enjoyed seafood at the The Fish Market along the embarcadero.

Our next day was dedicated to La Jolla, where we enjoyed the scene from atop the city's beautiful cliffs and wondered when the next earthquake would come and topple the million-dollar mansions.  We also stopped for hand-decorated ice creams.

On our way back, we stopped by UC San Diego so I could show Letizia my university.  It was nice to revisit the school, although I had an impending sense of deadlines while I was there and was relieved to step off the premises.  Mostly, I just wanted to show her Niki de Saint Phalle's Sun God statue, the fraternal twin of one in Paris that we had seen on my visit in the spring.

No visit to San Diego would be complete without a visit to my favorite restaurant, the quaint and semi-haunted Creole Cafe in Old Town, right next to the Whaley House.  We chowed down on Shrimp Creole, Macaroni & Cheese, and Gumbo while one of the owners regaled us with personal ghost stories.  Later that weekend, as Letizia, my mom, and I were relaxing on our balcony talking about more encounters of the third kind, I stirred up my stories about Margaret, the villa's ghost.  Just at the climax of my last story, while all of our hairs were already on end, we heard a glass fall and shatter in the kitchenette in our room.  We all screamed, my mom bravely went to investigate, and Letizia now officially believes in ghosts.  I never expected Margaret to follow me all the way to California, but since we're friends now, I guess it's ok.

While taking our time-honored photo at the Del, we got interrupted by an Asian girl who wanted to take a picture with us.  She planted herself in the middle of our group, put her arm around my mom, and smiled for the camera.  Sorry to disappoint, but this one's just of us.  Maybe when facial recognition software is more advanced, we can locate the partner photo from our new friends on the other side of the world.

That afternoon the fam headed back north while Letizia and I jumped on Amtrak to Los Angeles amidst a variety of characters, including a woman who almost missed the train due to her Botox appointment, and a chance run-in with a friend from college, perhaps compelling Letizia to believe I'm more popular than I am.