San Francisco is a Very Nice Place to Visit

I went to school with a girl who could burp the phrase; "San Francisco is a very nice place to visit". When I was in 7th grade I was awed by her talent and always aspired to learn her secret. She was a grade above me, and hung out with some of the "cool kids". I had seen the seventh grade boys admire her God given talent. I learned at an early age that most boys, regardless of the generation, think it's cool when a girl can burp louder than they can. If you don't believe me, ask my daughters Katie and Maddie. Better yet, ask any of the boys with whom the girls attended Jr. High and they will tell you of their talent. Now that they are more mature, when people hear them burp (myself included), they stare in utter disbelief. People usually do a double take when they've witnessed their phenomenal 'gift', attempting to get their heads around these perfectly coiffed young ladies burping like pre-pubescent boys. It didn't help that I encouraged them while they were growing up by giving them a 1-10 score when they proved their aptitude (something I finally had to stop doing because Madelyn was quite gifted--never below an 8.5--and was soon was without filters so we had to stop the burping yoga). On a recent visit to her old school, one of Maddie's former classmates (a boy) didn't remember her, but quickly remembered and said, "Hey, you are the one who burped the loudest in 4th grade. I remember you!!". It's hard to stand out in a Catholic school where everyone wears dockers and plaid jumpers.

This weekend, I was invited to be part of Katie's bachelorette weekend in San Francisco. We were to meet the girl posse at the Westfield Mall in San Francisco. Somehow I pictured this mall as being just outside the City with a 6 story parking structure. WRONG! Like Tony Randall said in the "Odd Couple", "When you assume, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me." The Westfield Mall is downtown San Francisco on Market Street and is actually the old Emporium building. Perhaps if I had asked more questions, I would have known, but I just "assumed". Because I'm not a shopper and purchase a lot of clothes on line--and could care less if I ever visited a 'mall' again--I was unaware that this shopping center was smack dab in the middle of the busiest street in San Francisco. Although, I've driven in the City, I've never navigated Market Street unless I was in the backseat of a cab or on a Muni Bus. I'm basically a country girl who prefers a leisurely drive on the back roads or a walk around Shollenberger Park (bird sanctuary) as a perfect day out. I'm somewhat claustrophobic, hate the idea of getting into a dressing room with a huge mirror and strip down to try on clothes (which look like crap on me anyway)! Who needs the humiliation of changing clothes in front of a huge mirror? Not me. Definitely, not me!

I dress pretty simply and would rather have a root canal (with gas) rather than shop at a mall. I am, however, forced to visit the local shopping centers a couple times a year (usually at Christmas or in the fall). The visit is either to the Ipod store or to get a gift for one of my kids. Whatever I need I can pretty much buy on line or at our local stores. I love shopping in small historic districts. The architecture fascinates me, the living history is all around and the shopkeepers are friendly. I like more unusual things which you discover in antiques shops or boutiques. I have a lot of physical limitations which are aggravated by walking around, carrying heavy bags and, frankly, I feel more like a milk producing cow rather than a lady doing lunch and the mall. Somehow the shopping gene that I should have received at birth, was replaced with the burping gene. I'd much rather be out digging in my yard than go to a mall. Basically, I can get stuff done in the yard (without looking at myself in a mirror), wear whatever I want and get in my hot tub when the pain arrives. I'd rather walk around the dog park with the boys than power walk through a mall, purchase something at 5 different stores (only to have to hoof it all the way back to where you parked the car). But, I make exceptions--like when I need something to wear for a special event. Or, when I want to bond with one of my daughter's who will literally shop 'til you drop. Of course, I usually drop in under three hours, maximum.


When we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge on Saturday, we were excited about the perfect weather and our girl's day adventure which lay before us. Sunlight glistened off the bay, there was a slight ocean breeze, clear sky and perfect temperature to walk around without a coat. When I rolled through Chinatown, I took a deep breath when I saw people walking the sidewalks 4 deep. I was quite happy that I didn't have to go there because it looked like a old King Kong movie. After we arrived in the thick of the financial district, the view of the sky was hidden by the skyscrapers, but the weather was still perfect. It was Saturday and there weren't many people on the streets. Once I got on Market Street, I realized that I was in the middle of a driver's hell! There were more people on the streets than in Chinatown, Cable Cars, Muni Buses, Cabs, bicycles, beggars, street merchants and lots of people (both pedestrian and motorists) who figured that a red light was a suggestion. After driving around the city for 45 minutes, we finally found a garage, parked and headed up to meet the girls. I was a bit frazzled, but with the help of Kelsy's Iphone and navigation we were finally where we were supposed to be. We went to lunch straightaway and I had a glass of wine, found purple Crocs and a skirt at Nordstroms. After watching the girls try on shoes--which were beautiful, but I would have NEVER been able to walk atop, even when I was in my early 20's--we had ice cream and headed to "Forever 21". Yeah, that's me....Forever 21! It was so CROWDED there but Maddie needed jeans. Again, I thanked God that Kelsey was with us so I didn't have to go into the fitting room which was a ratio of 6 rooms per floor!

After we finished up, I was quite ready to get home. We walked about 8 or 10 blocks, only to realized that we had made, yet another, wrong turn (only this time on foot). We doubled back, eventually found my car, and headed to O'Farrell Street to retrieve Maddie and Nessy for the ride home. From the time we left the Mall, it took us an hour to find O'Farrell Street (O'Farrell Street is only about three blocks from Market). So, there I was, lost in San Francisco and about 2 inches away from a full blown panic attack. I pushed the emergency button on my OnStar system and told the agent that I needed help. In the mean time, I was dodging cars, getting horns honked at me, had someone flip me off and kept driving around in circles trying to find a place where I could make a right hand turn. Eventually, the Onstar agent got me to O'Farrell Street, and we were on our way home.

Because I've been lost more than any two individuals, I knew that I wasn't on my way home until I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge. San Francisco is a difficult city for a country bumpkin like me to navigate. Vanessa even suggested, from the back seat, that we go home via the Bay Bridge (WAY out of the way). Her logic was that she could navigate Hwy 680 and we could take the "long way" home. It was then and there I put my foot down and said I was NOT (under any circumstances) going to go home and admit to Dave that I once again, crossed the Bay Bridge when coming home from San Francisco. I will NEVER recover my image of a strong, self-sufficient woman after the last two times I took that route home. I guess my guardian angel had enough of my profanities and bad attitude, when, almost if I had blinked, we found the water's edge. I saw the Embarcadero, and felt like it was a shining beacon ready to lead me home. I knew it would, eventually, take me to the bridge and back to Sonoma County. Of course, not until we drove through "Pier 39", "Fisherman's Wharf", and two street fairs. I now know that from the Embarcadero you turn Left on Bay street to get to the bridge. Frankly, I cannot find Fisherman's Wharf on purpose, but I knew it would get me back to the bridge. The Golden Gate was a welcomed sight, but when we crossed the county line at San Antonio Creek, I felt like Moses was leading me to the promised land.

I'll never be a "City" girl. I love the things which are there; the museums, the theatre, the park, the tourist attractions, even Market Street, but next time I go there, I'll make sure I know where I'm going before I leave home. Moreover, if we are going to Market Street, I'm taking the Ferry and a cab. Perhaps it's all about getting older, but at least I've learned one of my first, of I'm sure many, limitations now that I'm over 50. It was a ride that I'll never forget. When I leave this world, hopefully I'll be remembered for some of the good things I've done. Burping may be one of them however, I will rest in peace knowing that Katie and Maddie will fulfil my legacy. I'll never be remembered as a 'girly' girl and I'm quite certain I'll died never mastering the art of reading a map. Besides my job as a mother, I hope I'll be remembered as someone who not only laughed at, but also learned from her mistakes.