I just ate an incredible meal. There's this terribly trendy place in San Francisco called "Foreign Cinema" that has vaulted ceilings, an art gallery upstairs, and one white wall completely devoted to screening foreign films while you eat. The food is to die for. It's about 30 degrees cooler here than in Los Angeles; I packed poorly and was stuck in a sleeveless top wandering around the Mission.
I love the city, it's one of the most beautiful destinations on the planet. It happens to be Fleet Week this week, so we were treated to a surprise fireworks show over the bay.
However, because I'm completely ridiculous a part of me wishes I were at home in Los Angeles.
I feel like playing poker and taking everyone's chips.
