So busy. Can't update. Well, I can now because we have an open morning. Ma-holla! Let's see if I can remember everything that should be remembered.

Our most important order of business Sunday was switching hotels from the Holiday Inn Golden Gateway to the Intercontinental which is, I have learned, at 888 Howard Street, not 600 Howard Street. It was a pretty relaxed morning, but a person can only sleep in so much when four people are in one room, you're sharing a bed and the neighbors are stupid loud.

We decided to move hotels smack during the Pride parade which, yeah, maybe wasn't the best idea because roads were blocked off. We ended up with the funniest little Chinese cab driver. We have truly had a hell of a streak of cabbies. Hilarious. At one point, Angie leaned over and asked me if I felt like I was in Meet the Parents, and then the giggles started. His foot was equally lead-filled on both the gas and the brake and we only made it a block at a time because of all the lights and Pride traffic. Tears were rolling down my and Angie's faces and he looked back and said, "No scared!" People drive batshit crazy here.

We tried to check in to the new hotel early, but there was only one room clean and available so we came up to check it out and drop off our luggage. Angie and I claimed the room we went to and we all found the room to be gorgeous. I knew the hotel was newish, but wasn't aware it just opened on the last day of February. We are on the 29th floor and at this point I think we might be the only ones on the floor. It was been a wonderful, wonderful stay at the Intercon. This hotel is a beau-ful star.

Xtina and Nij had some sailing to do on the Adventure Cat (meow) so we hopped a cab to Pier 33 so they could catch their kitty. We ended up with an adorable Pakistani cabbie with conservative political views who was shocked by the "sudden attack" of the man wearing nothing but a thong riding a bike. I thought it was hot, so whatever. BUT, the craziest part about this cab driver is his neighbors are from Grand Rapids. Weird, huh? THEN, he told us his neighbors just bought property in Tower. Seriously. We didn't mention we were from there. AND THEN! I learned they purchased the land from my sister-in-law's family. The coincidence nearly made us shit ourselves.

We caught some lunch at Hard Rock Cafe, where I thought a bacon cheeseburger would be a good idea. It wasn't. Afterwards, when the gals went to board, Tuna and I made the trek up to Coit Tower. After Russian Hill, I wasn't sure I would be able to make it up to Coit, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected. We got a little turned around on the way, but finally made it to the top of the hill. The views were fabulous and the weather was great and as I took 46 pictures of Oakland, Angie and Christina were freezing their tits off on their sailboat. Coit wasn't all fun and games though. The elevator up was terrifying.

Post-Coit, we headed on down the dirty bitch that is Lombard to Grant so we could cruise through Chinatown on the walk home. A friendly fellow at a market and liquor store told us to go down Stockton instead and we were thoroughly confused by the crossing of Green and Stockton. However, common sense and Tuna said, "Hey, maybe we should go down the street with all the Asians." There's a reason we invited her to this on this trip.

When we got back to the hotel, we checked out Yerba Buena Gardens, which is less than a block away from where we are staying. We are 98% certain there was a garden of flowers on the corner of 4th and Howard when we left, but there was a pretty permanent-looking carousel there when we returned. We just didn't get it. After Good Herb Gardens, it was time to retreat to the hotel, rest our weary feet, and wait for Xtina and Nij to return. We found it a good time to make phone calls and while I called my dad, Tune called Jose and talked to him for 16 minutes and 54 seconds. That's a whole lot of broken English. Turns out Jose have three baby. They're not in the cities (or probably the states), though, so they don't count.

There was much unwinding and taffy consumption and chatting when the girls made it back. Eight o'clock rolled around and we decided it was shit-or-get-off-the-pot time for dinner. Our decision was made by the Buca di Beppo across the street from the hote. We waited a half hour (at 8:30! These people are nuts!) for our table, then were escorted to the basement with a creepy kitten tapestry and even creepier angels where our adorable Italian server, Stefan, tried to explain the menu to us. I was so tired and so full by the end of the meal, which was delicious, but I would have stayed there all night, just hoping that adorable server to come back and smile.

This is kind of dumb, but I'm going to post this bitch and start a new one for yesterday. Step off. I have a lot to share.