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Admiring a San Francisco cop who, I estimate, weighs 350 lbs. Impressive. |
Writing and listening to "Sinatra at the Sands" from 1966. Frank Sinatra actually tells jokes -- who would have guessed? |
Just rewrote a newsletter piece on New Jersey property tax appeals. And made it INTERESTING. Damn, I am good at what I do. |
"The kid will live and learn
As he watches his bridges burn
From the point of no return,' |
Good luck, Peter. |
Antidote to pretentious, irritating coffee-house guitarists. iPod. Headphones. Bootsy Collins. Loud. |
And my God, the fashion statements Ugg boots, two pairs of socks, Indian print dress, plaid flannel coat and the mandatory tattoo. |
They all look like they're about twelve, too. Sigh. |
Lots of young couples holding hands and staring raptly into one another's eyes in this college town coffee shop (Santa Cruz). Ick. |
There are some very weird people in Santa Cruz on a Friday afternoon. |
Starbucks. Writing. Again. |
sitting here listening to the fan on my laptop and hoping it doesn't overheat. |
Writing a great big huge giant enormous memo to what I hope will be a great big huge giant enormous new client. |
Working at the Noe Valley Starbucks. Best people-watching in the universe. |
Back from the gym. Yup, it hurt alright. |
Okay, off to the gym. This one is going to hurt. |
Up early, again, writing, again. Still dark. Thank God for coffee and iTunes. |
In the Cole Valley Cafe coffee shop in Haight Ashbury writing a positioning piece. Yes, this is definitely where hippies were invented. |
Sitting in a Starbuck's in SOMA trying to get a couple of hours of work in after spening that day at the SF LMA Conference tech conference. |
"Although the wind blows terribly here, the moonlight also leaks between the roof planks of this ruined house." Great little Zen poem. |
