Let's talk about San Francisco so far, shall we?

It all began on Friday afternoon when we hobbled our way to the light rail station, trying to outrun the approaching storm. It seems Christina has the most awkward and heaviest possible no-extra-poundage-fee bag possible (no, really, the thing weighed 49 pounds). However, we took turns and eventually made it to an equally awkward light rail ride. Who knew the train would be so packed at 5:00 on a weekday? Oh yeah, I did, but I thought if I didn't tell anyone, then it wouldn't be busy. I was wrong. Even the guy with the polio legs was laughing at us. He was doing far better than we were. Did I mention my brand-new bag already jacked a wheel and now it doesn't pull right? Eat my ass, Liz Co.

We made it to the airport and eventually our terminal without much time to spare before our 7 o'clock flight. We found Tuna, ate a little grub, and were all ready to board when boarding should have commenced. However, due to smoke from the forest fires, the flight was delayed for 45 minutes. At 7:20 boarding began, and the damn plane didn't take off until 8:30. Not a real gid start, but we did notice Tuna three rows back picking up a foreigner named Shamu. The girl's got a way with those from not here. Speaking of which, she's trying to learn Spanish after befriending (not sexually yet, but I don't doubt she's working on it) a gentleman named Jose at work. I have used "hermano" 184 times so far.

We made it to SFO without incident at about 9:45 local time, picked up our bags, tried to haggle with an Escalade driver and ended up in a mini-van cab who introduced us just how crazy San Francisco cab drivers are. It was like a video game. Super fun.

Our hotel room is nice enough. We have a sliding glass door that leads right out to the pool patio and if it weren't 60 degrees out, the pool might sound appealing. I couldn't be happier about it being 60 degrees out. Unfortunately, our room is also next to the ice machine and on the other side of paper-thin walls from loud people. Also, at 2:15 on our first night when we were two hours into our sleeping, there was a knock on the connecting door, then our neighbors opened it up. Thanks, Holiday Inn Golden Gateway, for trying to get us raped. No really, I appreciate the attempt; I could totally use some ass.

We're on our second full day here and our first full day was extra full. We woke up early and were ready to explore by 9:30. We took a little stroll down Van Ness and were thrilled to find Happy Donut, where we enjoyed food more affordable (and deliciously gut-bomby) than we will anywhere else in this city. From there, we headed to Union Street to check out the shops since it was on my map and then it must be important, right? Yeah, they are totally rich people shops and these girls? Not so rich. Well, maybe Tuna, but she leads a life of modesty.

Once we decided the shops were not for us (and they also were not open), we headed up Lombard to see the "crookedest street". However, we were fully unaware that the crookedest street is atop Russian Hill. And if there is one thing you need to know about Russian Hill, it is a BITCH. Words can't express how steep it was and how trembly my legs were when we reached the top and then walked back down to Ghirardelli Square. The crookedest street was pretty gd crooked, but I'm still deciding whether it was worth how sore my calves are today.

Next we had lunch at McCormick & Kuleto's in Ghirardelli Square and it was phenomenal. We were the first ones there so we got the best table - right in the corner with huge windows overlooking the bay. I had incredible stuffed salmon with mashed potatoes and Coors Light and Tuna got the shitty seat and all in all it was a wonderful time. Except maybe for Tuna.

From there we headed towar Fisherman's Wharf and checked out the Cannery along the way. We overdid it a little at Candy Barrel (and by "we", I mean Angie and I, who collected four pounds of various-flavored taffy. Mmm.) We also ran into an Asian woman summoning our "Tuna!" at the tourist shop. Step off, bitch, she's ours.

This was the point of the day when I started to really lose steam. From the crazy, insanely busy Wharf where a man jumped from the bushes to try to scare us, we headed to Pier 39 and then back to Ghirardelli Square to devour some ice cream. I made that cable car my bitch. It never knew what hit it.

Then we walked back to the hotel and collapsed. Angie and Xtina went on a beer run, then we got drunk. From there, we headed to the Mark Hopkins Intercontinental Hotel at 1 Nob Hill to enjoy some cocktails at the Top of the Mark and our cab driver told us we needed to check out the block party at Castro when we were done at the Mark. Hells yes, buddy, thanks for the recommendation. We were pumped about our evening plans.

The Intercon was beautiful and the views were amazing despite the cloudy weather and we tried fancy drinks like Lemon Drops and Cosmopolitans and Jungle Traps and Anchor Steam beer. We stayed there for a few hours and enjoyed it immensely, then decided it was time to hit up this block party. We ended up in a cab with a very kind gentleman named Kamias who gave us his personal phone number so he could be our driver all weekend. Little did we know how soon we would be using it.

We hopped out of the cab in Castro, which was God knows where, and immediately realized we were in the middle of a 50,000-person Pride bash. Dozens of cops lined the perimeter of the "party", girls were wondering around topless and same-sex couples were making out everywhere. It was quite the experience, though Tuna didn't agree, so we only made it about 45 minutes. We did have our bodies smashed together in a single moving mass of an orgy and we also had hot chocolate thrown on us, so that was fun. Not nearly as fun as all the drag, but what is? We found it impossible to hail a cab to get out so Christina called Kamias, demanded he come pick us up, then Tuna was able to force herself into a cab as others were getting out. Sorry, Kamias, you were the only cab driver that didn't scare us enough that we thought we were going to die.

So here we are, on day two. We were awoken early by our asshole neighbors and the ice machine and Tuna, Xtina and I ate a little overpriced breakfast in the hotel restaurant. Shortly we will head to our second hotel of the trip, which is hopefully in a cleaner area than this one, where we will have TWO rooms and everyone will have their own bed so I can stop cuddling with Neej. Amen.

Another month (and then some) has passed and I wish I had more to share. It’s been a month filled with counting down the days until San Francisco with he girlies (FOUR TO GO!) and trying to find out what to do when there.

I did tuck my skirt into the back of my pantyhose and walk all the way across the foyer during lunchtime at work, which one would think would warrant a post all its own. A nice young man with a great tie tried to pull it out for me and sent me to the bathroom when it proved stubborn. When I got to the bathroom, I realized my entire ass was showing. Stellar. Why wasn’t I embarrassed?

I only have a week left until I’m 25, so that’s something.

Seriously, why can’t I have a more exciting life?

I’ve grown to love Acme Comedy Company with an unspeakable passion over the past months. I took advantage of free tickets for my birthday month on Thursday and went with Abby, Brian, Darren and John. As if the combination of friends weren’t entertaining enough, Eddie Gossling made me laugh until I hurt all over.

This afternoon I’m going to spend pretty much an entire day’s wages on a haircut. It better make me look 75 pounds lighter.

I just heard my GM say to the Chief Engineer, “Why are you so stubborn? Do we need to arm wrestle and get this over with?” She also calls me into her office on a daily basis to check out the cute boy during work on her window ledge (if you know what I’m sayin’ [and I think you do]). I think I’m going to be okay with her.