past the mission (part II)

I came home to find my mail stacked to the ceiling and a Swiss cheese down comforter on my bed - care of the mutts. It seems they decided that feathers are extremely tasty with kibble, which might be true for all I know. I guess they were just pissed that I didn't call from san fran.

It rained most of the week, except Christmas eve and of course, the day that we left. I am sure there will be nothing less than sun bathing weather for the next few weeks.

Christmas eve we wandered down to the mission on a mission to get the mother of all burritos. They don't do it up right here on the east coast, so I was quite excited for some authentic el mexicano. We rode the bus, which isn't something I've done since I ran away from home at 17, and for good reasons, the snake man, flash flood, flat tire in the desert, boys with dyed rats in their bags and child rapists all to name a few, but hey, those are different stories. As we went further towards the mission, the bus became more sardine-like as bodies pushed against one another and my mind raced to translate the flying preguntos from the 15 words I still remember from 4 years of spanish classes. When we finally arrived I stepped off of the bus on market street and was delighted at all of the markets crammed next to one another in the decaying buildings. There were plastic dolls, huge animatronic santa clauses, and droves and droves of latin americans all dashing to do their last minute shopping. It was awesome! I marveled at la mamacitas haggling with the asian shop owners over billowing dresses, bedding and toys. The chaos was making me heady. The place we were trying to get to was "closed for renovation" so we just walked to the next place across the street. The food was tasty. Pigeons flew into the store and walked around, you had to have the staff from behind the counter buzz you into the bathroom. My kind of place. I ate so much I made myself sick. And it was so worth it.