Last Stop, San Fran!

Holy Crap Peeps! It is Gay Pride Week in San Francisco and I am all gay pride colors! (In case you forgot, we are still pretending that I am in San Fran since I wrote this while I was there but had no internet connection since knitter mom was a cheapskate and refused to pay twenty bucks a day for wifi.) Several random strangers have offered to take me to the transgendered parade but my knitter mom fears I may never return. Also, what can a sock transgender into? I'm totally looking forward to my new home, but ending this "how can we torture the Monkeys" vacation sooner than anticipated makes the parade tempting. More so in light of my most recent experiences.

The knitter woman, she locked me up at Alcatraz! That's right. Then she bought some gasp acrrrr ..., I'm not sure I can say this. She bought some acrrrryyyyylllllliiccc yarn there too! Apparently the inmates at Alcatraz were allowed to knit and knitting is souvenir appropriate. I tried to tell her that just because it is a knitting related souvenir at a prison didn't mean it had to come home with her, but did she listen? Noooo! Something about kismet. Kismet my arse. The fool paid twenty bucks for acrylic yarn and cheap wooden needles!



She did mitigate the acr, acryllll, the yarn from Alcatraz with some awesome stuff from Artfibers. There was some neat brown sock yarn, some pretty red scarf yarn, and this poison green stuff she just loved. She was glad she had seen Cara's blog entry over at January One or she would have never known about the joy of Artfibers.

She even got to make to tiny swatches. The sales girl/yarnmonger told her they could be bigger, but she didn't want to be gluttonous. With yarn, let me tell you, she is gluttonous with the food on our trip, good gawd does she eat! She did get to take a picture of me at the "tasting area" which is unusual. The yarn girl told her she could take "just one" though, so she did, with a smile and a thank you!



I also got to experience the Golden Gate Bridge. And I do mean, experience the bridge. Crazy ass knitter mom and her husband BIKED the bridge. Mind you, she hadn't ridden a bike in years. Like ten years or more. And she is NOT coordinated. Somehow she didn't fall or drop me. But she did scare the daylights out of me. She would scream or giggle hysterically if people rode next to her and since she is a slow biker, many real bikers rode next to her as they passed. Speaking of real bikers, I think she also scared them in a Oh-boy-Crazy-tourist-nearby kind of way. Every time she passed a real biker, she dinged her handlebar bell. Let me tell you, I was SO embarrassed. Yes, they know you are a tourist by the bike, do you have to add to it with all of that bell ringing?



The wind was insane, as were the hills. I was sure I was going to fly out of her bike pouch. I was also sure I was going to never make it because knitter mom didn't understand the whole gear thing and couldn't figure out why she was having such a hard time getting up the hills. Eventually her husband had to explain, use the finger gear thing, not the thumb, because "high" and "low" were beyond her. But you know, as ridiculous as she was, it was a fun part of the trip. I mean, how many socks ride a bike across the Golden Gate Bridge?

San Fran hasn't been all madcap craziness though. There was some baseball, some garlic fries at the baseball park (totally disappointing - they smelled a thousand times better than they tasted), and some more baseball.





I got to see a Barry Bonds home run. Even if he is the biggest cheater in baseball, it was a bit of history. I also got to watch knitter mom get a funny sunburn during the thirteen innings of the second game we saw. Hehe! She ended up with a white forehead (protected by her had), a red chin and cheeks, and a real pretty outline of her sunglasses. I figure that was cosmic retribution for dangling me out of the car window so many times!

Even though I didn't get lucky on my date in Denver, I did get some romance at The View bar.



I also tried to run off and get some "romance" at the Green Door massage and sauna place, but knitter mom said no. Something about not having enough money for antibiotics since she had purchased her souvenirs already.



So our trip is all but done. We have a red eye flight home, and I am hoping she will get to knitting on us. But you never know. She might see more scenery she has to stare at or something else so less important than we are. Either way, we seemed to have survived this vacation and are so use to traveling that the trip to our new mom's home will be a piece of cake.