The Sweetest Thing

Sometimes, when I am lucky enough, I volunteer with 18 Reasons, which is a community space in the Mission that strives to engage the neighborhood through art and food. There is always an awesome exhibition of local art up on the walls, and each week sees a variety of events ranging from wine tastings to dinners with local farmers and even ice cream socials! This blog will be about the last item on that list, because it was one of the top 100 nights of my life, but when you are finished reading this amazing piece of editorial work, you should def go check out the 18 Reasons website and event calendar.

Ok, so, each Thursday, 18 Reasons holds an 18th Hour, which is a regular event that is usually completely different than the last. But the 18th Hour is generally inexpensive and a great way to get a feel for the people and style of 18 Reasons. Oh, there I go advertising again. What I meant to type was LAST THURSDAY THERE WAS AN HONEST-TO-GOD ICE CREAM SOCIAL. And I was a volunteer. A-ma-zing. Sadly, I was too busy to remember that I had my camera until the end, but I think I managed to capture the basic energy of the 87th best night of my life.

The premise was that this was an all-you-can-eat deal - $5 for members of 18 Reasons, $10 for non-members and free if you brought some ice cream or a topping. I was a little skeptical as we set up shop, with only 2 quarts of Bi-Rite's (ambrosial) salted caramel and vanilla ice cream and a smattering of toppings that I picked up from Bi-Rite, but I should not have been worried at all. The event was a hit and I ate so much amazing ice cream that I'm a little embarrassed to write this post. Here is some of what we were dealing with, topping-wise:

As peeps came, they filled out those little, yellow cards to tell everyone about what they brought. The burnt sugar and salted caramel sauce tasted like how I want everything to taste in Heaven. And, in the back there, you will see an Earl Grey date sauce that was incredible! Everything else in this pic was provided by Bi-Rite/18 Reasons. And some of you are all, 'Ewww. Is that olive oil and salt?' And, yes, yes it is. It is amazing and you should try it. Use a fruity olive oil and some quality salt (like Maldon) - so good. It's how Sam Mogannam (of Bi-Rite fame) makes his famous sundae.

People brought other toppings, too:

Yeah. That pear sauce was amazing. And then these showed up and I almost died:

That's right. Strawberry balsamic brownies. That, my friends, is what it looks like when puppies smile. With lightening speed, the pastry box that runneth over was demolished. See:

No matter what they tell you, I didn't do it. I did not get pics of all the toppings, but, rest assured, there was white chocolate popcorn, locally foraged blackberry compotes and some Christmas sprinkles.

Now, onto the part where I get tears in my eyes. Check this out, yo:

Yup. That's right. Those are homemade ice creams. That people made. And I ate. Other people ate them, too, but I ate more. Ice cream wimps. How can you NOT go back for seconds of double butterscotch goat's milk ice cream?! Or:

Double ginger ice cream, anyone? It was perfect with the pear sauce! We also had a bevy of other flavors:

That last one was the only semi-pro ice cream out there. Made with raw milk and cream! I had to find out why the rawness, and the makers of this icy delight insisted that it is so much creamier and all-around tastier with the raw milk. Then I had to find out why they were so cute, but they wouldn't give up their secrets to staying young and fabulous! Look at 'em:

Hmmm. I'm gonna go get me some raw milk now. Maybe then I will finally grow some straight, blond hair, find that perfect leather belt and snag me a boyfriend who will make ice cream with me! You can find out more about purchasing their ice cream, Jilli, here. And it's named Jilli because their names are Jacky and Willi, which is so cute that I just squealed.

There was so much more ice cream that melted before I could photograph it, and some many more amazing people at the event, but I didn't want to write an entire book on it. Hmmm. Or maybe I do. Some torrid novel about love and ice cream. We'll see what develops.

On that note, I'm out. Hope to see you at 18 Reasons soon!

Dating Is Hard

Dating is hard. Not only in San Francisco (although I love blaming the gays for outnumbering the straights), but everywhere. Recently, while only slightly tipsy at a Dolores Park BBQ, I lamented of my singledom to a pretty redhead who is living in Brooklyn.

Me: Dating is hard.

Her: Yeah. I know.

Me: But at least you live in New York, where you can meet guys with enough hutspah to ask you out.

Her: Just because they all want to sleep with you on the east coast doesn't make dating any less hard.

Me: Yeah. Actually, that might make it even harder...

Both: Dating is hard.

So, I decided to (try to) take fate into my own hands. I joined a dating site where friends have had success, and it is definitely not called 'Por que, Stupid?' So far, no one I've been interested in has messaged me, and I don't know why. I worked so hard on my profile.

It asked me to give a self-summary, and I was totally honest:

Here's a basic day in my life:

I wake up at the first inkling of daylight because God doesn't let the sun rise until I'm ready. He's learned his lesson. Then I generally eat a healthy breakfast of egg whites and spinach before taking a 2 minute shower while blasting 'This American Life' over the sound of the crying baby next door.

After I am clean and fresh, I flash a smile at said baby and it never cries again. My good looks often have this effect on people. Then I walk to BART, which takes me right near The Armory, which means I regularly try to guess which pedestrians are porn stars.

Waiting for the train, I save a puppy that was caught in the tracks and give it to a blind person because it is generally a seeing eye puppy. Although once it was a seeing eye pony. That was an especially good day.

After that, I do the NYT crossword with a Sharpie while blindfolding myself, get off at Cal and soak up the infinite knowledge available there. I'll also volunteer for awhile, build a home for a family in need and eat a vegetarian salad before heading back to SF for the night. And that's when the fun really starts...

And it might be hard to believe, but there have been no takers. Jerks.

Sit on my Facebook (Internet Love Song) by The Scribes

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce the internet's newest viral video which stars a man I briefly worked with and co-stars like 30 people I met once at a party. I think most of them went to Stanford, but I can look past that.

Enjoy!

Fun Crap I Do When I Should Be Studying

Last night was fun. Super fun. I had one beer too many, and I wrong texted a man with a fancy beard, but other than that, I wouldn't change a thing - pig bladders and all. What? Shhhhh.

Not only did I get to hang out with my super awesome friend who I haven't seen in way too long and I was starting to really miss, but I also ate some delicious nibblins in The Mission here in SF. But back to my awesome friend. I haven't seen her in over a week! I usually text this woman between two and thirty-eight times a day. Not seeing her was getting pretty tough. I think it was harder for me than for her. Codependent, much, Melanie? Who typed that?

We started off at The Mission Statement, but not because we wanted to make funky, arguably hip fashion choices. We went to jam out with our...(don't write 'clam out,' don't write 'clam out') colorful tee shirts. And jam. Like, spready stuff that goes on crackers. Dafna Kory of INNA Pickle/INNA Jam was there, handing out sweet samples.



My aforementioned friend may or may not have some influence over a fancy local store who is looking to 'revamp their jam section,' so we talked to Dafna for quite awhile. And she is so nice. And so cute! Plus, she doesn't drive, just like me! Well, I think she doesn't drive because of the environment, while I don't drive because it makes me cry, but, still - she is going on my personal list of 'Heroes Who Don't Drive,' right after David Sedaris and Zoe Milgram.



As an aside, sometimes, in my head, I say 'Jam it in the jammy hole,' for no real reason, and I can't stop saying it right now. I think that is because I jammed Dafna's jams in my jammy hole last night. I never really thought about it, but I guess a jammy hole is a mouth. Oh, that sounds dirty. It wasn't.

Anyway, look how cute she is!!! And look at her jam/pickle delivery bike!



Wow. I did so much other stuff last night that I want/need to write about, but it's 12:30 PM and I have done nothing on my To Do List, except 'eat breakie,' which is a lame ass task because I never forget breakfast, but I always put it on there so I get to cross at least one thing off.

So, for now, I will leave you with a picture of this girl I may or may not know and/or love getting ready to jam some jam in her jammy hole:

Sign Language

Passive aggressive signage - the newest weapon in the war on drugs. I took this pic on my phone outside a video store/espresso bar near my house in San Francisco this afternoon. Hey, at least our junkies are environmentally friendlier than yours.



Way to go, Faye's, way to go. Also, nice blog - who knew?

Win Delicious Coffee!

I like coffee. I like to drink it at least once a day, although sometimes I will skip, but not usually. And I don't care if you think it's a drug and I'm addicted to it because I think that's a fine amount of coffee to drink every day and I'm tired of pleasing you anyway.

Living in San Francisco has really introduced me to some fine, fine coffee. Long behind me are the days of waiting in the cold New York winter to purchase a cup of lukewarm battery acid from one of those silver cart things, along with fifteen other people dressed almost exactly like me in black and gray. Gone!

Now coffee has flavors! And I don't mean Dunkin' Donuts French Vanilla, I mean flavors like 'vibrant' and 'sultry.' Just like me. Does it work if I say this around mixed company: 'I like my coffee like I like myself, vibrant and sultry?' I will attempt this/embarrass myself in a very public situation soon and get back to you.

My favorite coffee of the moment comes from Barefoot Coffee Works in San Jose, CA (but I can get it a Birite, near my house). I am in love with the Reserva Del Diablo. One day I was poking around the market, taking my sweet time picking out a coffee because I love shopping no matter what it's for, and I read every single description on all the coffee they had for sale. I knew I wanted a light roast, and I wanted to stray from the typical SF faves (Ritual and Four Barrel) to try something new. When I read this description, I was in love:

Vibrant and sultry. Surprisingly crisp and sweet acidity with tangerine and clover honey highlights. Fresh red currants and lemony floral zestiness.

It is SO GOOD. I am currently drinking a cup, black, which isn't necessarily how I like my men, but it could be because I think Jose Reyes is a babe. I love this coffee so much that I want to give some away...to you!

If you love coffee as much as I do, leave a comment telling me a story revolving around coffee. It could be about your favorite barista, counting quarters to pay for your machiattto, or just sipping a cup on the couch with your new puppy. Or old puppy. I'm not picky when it comes to puppies.

I will pick my favorite story on Monday, and I will send the winner a 12 oz. bag of Barefoot Coffee's Reserva Del Diablo. The winner will be posted on this here site on Monday evening. See what I did there? Not only do you have to read this, but then you have to think about something meaningful and write it down. And THEN you have to come back to my blog on Monday. Boo yah. I'm smart. Or maybe I've just had too much coffee.

Can't wait to read your comments!

Reason to Love San Francisco #12: Happy Hours at Gay Bars

I have found myself in sports bars countless times in my adult life, only to feel entirely excluded by the fracas on the bazillion televisions. I could be in the middle of telling a really funny story, and then all of a sudden the whole place erupts in deafening cheers, and my story is ruined. Sure, I've had my flings with sports, but never to the point where I could go to a room full of strangers, drink drinks and have the game of the moment act as the cement that glues the evening together. It's not that I can't imagine this happening, it's just that I usually experience this sort of camaraderie with Sex and the City or Top Chef.

Enter San Francisco:



That's right. This bar in The Castro not only advertises an exceptionally late happy hour (2 to 8!), but also the fact that they play Project Runway at 10 PM. And, as if that's not amazing enough, they just throw in the weekly lineup for American Idol and Glee. I'm not so much a fan of A.I., but I'll lap up an episode of Glee any day of the week like I'm a kitten and each new episode is a warm bowl of milk.

Point: San Francisco

(Get it? Point? Like, sports? Man, am I good.)

I'm A Very Kinky Girl

Well, I'm not a very kinky girl by San Francisco standards, but at least my hair maintains it's kink. Oooooh. That's funny 'cause my hair is mega curly. Annnnnyway...

There are some great mysteries of this wacky city. For instance, why is Bay to Breakers allowed? How come people can shoot crack into their veins on the street without getting in trouble? And why do so many people keep the fur on their bikes after Burning Man? It rains like 75% of time time people! Plus, you look like an ass.

And then, sometimes, I pass this place:



Looks official, right? Just a giant-ass building plopped in the middle of The Mission. Well, it turns out, as per their official website, that it is an old armory. Built as a replica of an old Moorish castle in 1914, it was used by the National Guard until 1976. And then the shenanigans started. It won't tell you on their site, but a large portion of this massive building is rented out to Kink.com. And don't click on that link if you are at work because it is not a hair salon for the spirally gifted. IT'S A PORN STUDIO. And not a regular, tame, consensual porn studio, but a FETISH PORN STUDIO.

Can you imagine the awe and wonder that wash over me every time I pass it? I can't help ponder what wild fantasies are happening mere feet from where I stand. Is someone in a leather swing? Are they getting their hair pulled? Do they have a bikini waxer onsite? What do the shoes look like? It kills me that I will never know. Or so I thought.

Mission Mission recently made me aware of the fact that Kink.com just started offering FREE tours of the Armory! WTF!?!?! We can actually GO INSIDE! That's amazing. It's like seeing where magic comes from - magic, in this case, being porn. This guy from SF with an awesome Tumblr blog called The Tens recently went on one of these amazing tours with his whole office. I wonder what that office does? Maybe makes dog collars with ball gags attached? Anyway, check out these (mostly) safe for work pics from that tour:



What do you think it looks like in there? I mean, I'm generally impressed with a bidet, but I'll bet the buttsink in there is INSANE. And then there is this one:



According to The Tens, this is where ladies go to wrestle and the loser gets...punished. And all us creepy voyeurs can pay to watch the fun online. What do you think the lady wrestlers wear? I'm imagining lots of sparkles. Crotchless sparkles.

The only bummer is that all the tickets are sold out until an undetermined date. But you know I will be refreshing that screen until I get a pair of tickets. And then one of the great mysteries of San Francisco will be solved. Now if only I can figure out why all those people on segways in Fisherman's Wharf do not realize how stupid they look...