Friday, December 7, 2012

My first post about my trip up north was really just about the aesthetics of that drive, of Northern California. So here's a more narrative heavy post about the same trip, but with different photographs. Because apparently I can never take enough photographs.

First, I visited Tiny Brother at his apartment in Oakland. His apartment that is in an old victorian style house that is part of a famous underground jazz club. I slept on my air mattress in the living room, fell asleep to sirens, just like at home. There's something comforting about staying with your brother. We ate pizza and drank whiskey and went to brunch on my dad's credit card and rode our bikes around Oakland and he showed me his favorite things and I drove him crazy stopping to take photos every ten seconds.

We drove to Berkeley and he took me to the top of a giant hill where we could see all of the Bay Area. We ate pho. He showed me the horrifying "Here There" sign that marks the Oakland, Berkeley boarder, designating Berkeley as "Here" and Oakland as "There," which is epic racism if I've ever seen it. I can't think of what else that sign could possibly be. Anyone know?

After Oakland, I drove to see sister in Davis, which is where she lives and goes to graduate school. We rode bikes, ate at coffee shops, did trivia night at the bar with her cohort, cleaned the entire Farmhouse to prepare for her Farmhouse Thanksgiving. I learned from talking to about 10 different people who either live in Davis or lived in Davis that the only things to do in Davis are go to Delta for food and coffee and to wander the arboretum [which is yarn bombed!]. So that's what I did. Also worked a little. Watched a bunch of video tutorials about Flash. Read some. Breathed farm air. Rode my bike everywhere. Oh and I ordered only an avocado at some pub type place. They were so accommodating.

After a few days in Davis, I drove down to Petaluma to have dinner with W & M. It was the prettiest drive I've ever experienced. Photographs don't do it justice. Everything was green and yellow and red. Everything was farm and trees and sky. Rolling hills. Baby animals.

After dinner, I drove about 20 miles west and south until I found this little restaurant on the side of the 1 that my parents said they'd be at with my brother. I got there just in time for desert, which was s'mores we roasted ourselves at the restaurant's fire place. The rest of the trip was spent with my family in Point Reyes. I got a lot of work done, we went to the beach where I promptly fell asleep in the shape of a starfish, we drove a lot of windy roads to a lot of fancy restaurants, I ate about ten hundred fresh oysters caught from the very bay along which we were staying in our rented house that overlooked the water. On my most relaxing day, I sat in front of the open french doors in the bedroom facing the dock and the water reading Virginia Woolf's The Years after having finally spoken to the person I love who is far, far away. It was perfect.

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