Today I went to the SF Museum of Modern Art to see an Ansel Adams exhibit. Obviously, this is the guy National Geographic wishes they were. The pictures are so 3-D looking, I caught myself moving my viewpoint to try and see around things in the photos. He used one of those big cameras with the cloth hoodie thing you stick your head under, most often seen depicted in lame clip art collections. Those things can capture hairline detail like nothing else, chemical or digital. But I'd never want to use one.

After that, Helen and I met up with Beanie and went to eat at Zachary's pizza, a very popular pizza place in Oakland. The pizza was shaped more like a tomato quiche, very deep dish with very heavy toppings. Blah blah multilayered crust blah blah I'm not that interested in reviewing food. Beanie and Helen get along well enough, which is good, as I seem to remember Bean despising Ian's last girlfriend for being sort of... uh... airheaded and shallow? My words, not hers.

Pizza pizza blahb lah art something driving bridge, other thing. Uh, sister. Eat. Something about bacon or alternative lettuce and tomato (ALT). THen the other thing, volvos lined up in the parking lot. The Metreon, like a big mall where they don't really sell anything, plus disco lights. getting enough sleep. Creepy people. Unrequited stuff. Snow tires and donuts, then rain and bikes. Finally, cemetaries, feng shui, and 444s.

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