last wander

I will never get used to Christmas trees amongst palm trees, but I admit the scale of Californian Christmas trees is pretty impressive.

We did end up in a touristy crab joint, but the food was good and the company better, so I thoroughly enjoyed myself.


Friday morning I wanted to return the pants from Anthropologie, which already had ripped (grumble, grumble) but they didn't open until 10 am, so I wandered some more. This time I started with the swankier areas, as it remained somewhere I hadn't wandered on previous trips (as graduate students or post-docs do not necessarily want to be reminded of what they cannot afford).




Here is the overly-optimistic outdoor rink in Union Square. Despite pitiful ice-quality, it was generally packed, but not at 8 am.


I ended up in Chinatown.






This place was called "The Store with Beautiful Things".





Then I checked out and walked to the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit), past the Hyatt fountain:

to Powell Station. Managed to get on the least efficient route on the Air Train, so I arrived just at the right time. I don't think I've ever seen so much chaos as there was at the United counter, so I was glad I persuaded a machine to give me a not-quite-boarding pass which got me through security to the gate, where they sat me at the front of the plane, behind 1st class. Coincidentally, I was seated next to a U of T prof and we talked the whole way home.

Looking forward to seeing friends this evening!

wandering San Fran

"I dream as I walk through the moon my hood is so quiet I can hear the ants talk to each other"
Found next to a parking lot somewhere in the Mission district.


The text on the building down the laneway reads, "Heɐrt Sinktheship". This intrigues me.


This reminds me, strangely, of a series of moody black and white photos taken by my brother (the OB, actually) in Windsor. One was of a doorway labelled, "Baby Hotel". I'm not sure why one reminds me of the other. Perhaps if you begin your life in a Baby Hotel you end your days as an Odd Fellow. This in turn reminds me of my favorite overheard sentence at the conference. A Japanese scientist was explaining his numerical model of seafloor sediments and said, "We start with baby sands. Then, the baby sands grow."








I dragged MR around so I could photograph some street art over lunch time on Thursday. It was beautiful out and it was good to get outside. Some friends need to be encouraged to disengage from their computers or shop talk. Though I think he secretly thought if I was going to wander in that direction (with a laptop bag no less), that I was better off not going alone. I am more more of a city person than he. We didn't even venture that far away from the more polished neighbourhoods. I would have continued exploring, as it was broad daylight. I feel it is mainly important to be aware and to walk with purpose.




This was some sort of crumpled paper art installation in a window. I have this idea that almost anything can look fascinating if you repeat it. It becomes a fetish.


The vortex of paper was hard to capture, but when I saw the artist's statement, complete with equation (W = -Δ PE, or work is equal to the change in potential energy) I had to record it.


Then we had wildlife, architecture and the ubiquitous geometric crystal decoration. Could someone explain to me why contemporary art and illustration is infested with crystals? I mean I like group theory and think crystallography is nifty, but I don't get it. Though, I certainly enjoyed this hoarding:






If you watch the sidewalks in San Francisco, you can read about its history.



On Thursday I joined Jill and her former colleagues and alumni from Scripps (including KW, whom I know as a marine EM person) and we made the requisite cable car trip. You have to try this at least once after all, even if it is touristy. Plus, Fisherman's Wharf is a place you can arrive with a dozen scientists and get a table without a reservation. Lastly, the Scripps alumni missed sea lions. So we needed to go to the harbour.



I thought it was funny that I ended up in groups like 'people from Victoria', 'New Zealanders and/or people educated in Zurich' and 'people from Scripps (UCSD)' at various times, when really I don't actually belong in any of these categories, though I have some claim to the first. On the other hand, some Victorians think preferring Toronto is likely a sign of mental illness. I think to each her own.

the short commute

I get up and walk to the conferece every morning and pass this hardware store. I love the inexplicable, dissembodied fox head.




This afternoon, the usual chaos in front of Macy's (Christmas windows with puppies... people go gaga, like they had never seen puppies ever before) was increased by this accident.

City by the Bay

So we made it here, inefficiently, but in one piece. We, as usual, were in a plane load of Canadian geophysicists. KS and I worked on the paper most of the way. By the last hour my editing skills deteriorated and I gave up. I was exhausted. Not only did I work last week solid, well into the evenings, and do the City of Craft yesterday, but last night (Murphy's Law) the downstairs neighbour decided to have a rip-roaring party, blarring music to all hours. So, I arrived feeling dozy. We all got off the plane, got luggage and proceeded to the BART (public transit), where we waited in line to buy tickets, like good little Canadians. Though the emeritus prof from York behind us was trying to stir insurrection and suggest jumping over the turnstile. Then we waited some more, for the train. We made sure EB knew where he was going. KS was mad when she realized after all that, we really could have just shared a cab... and at least then she might have a receipt to claim expenses. We each walked to our respective hotels, and then met for lunch at 3:30 pm PST. We had some Thai food, which was nice and spicy. KS still wants to work on this paper, so I gave her the files, but I've had it for now. She did say she'd like to go for a walk first, before getting back to work. So, we walked to Chinatown. Then, we headed downtown, and she said she wanted to look for shoes. But, then, I spied an Anthropologie, and spent the next couple of hours corrupting KS (who bought more than I).

Having eaten at a strange hour, we just bought snacks and headed to our respective accommodations. I am now listening to Coleman Hawkings, using the free wifi in my very well-appointed, if dimunuative hotel room. This one has a sort of contemporary/Deco look in white with antique mirrors and one spectacular light fixture. The bedside table came with three novels for the traveller: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and American Psycho. The first I understand; a classic of American literature (which through one of those bizarre travesties of education, I read as a child, in French translation). The second a recent hit and true San Francisco story. The last one gives me pause. Though I must say, I am feeling quite content, in my tiny, comfy, stylish room, a short walk from everywhere. I am blogging away in my attempt to stay up to a reasonable hour in this time zone. I just hope my co-authors acquiesce and relent on the paper-editing, and then I can relax and enjoy myself. Even though conferences are work, I don't have to present anything. So, I am being paid to learn, which is always lovely.


Plus, there are of course, many places I want to go... I think it's been four years since I was last here. You should see the ridiculous outdoor skating rink they've set up in Union Square. The ice is a mess - it's much too warm for that - but it's packed with skaters amongst the palm trees.