So we’re here in the anti-LA, stayed the night with some friends in the Richmond near Golden Gate Park, and it’s wet outside, which my skin totally loves but my hair is totally angry, and it’s revolting in large brillo patches.

We were supposed to leave early this morning and head up to who-knows-where in Oregon, but instead we’re reenacting Folgers commercials, scooting around in our socks, being lazy and marveling at all the abundant moisture. We walked around the park this morning for about an hour watching Chuck gallop through soggy grass and treating himself to what he thinks is chocolate pudding.

Right now we’re headed to Amoeba Records to spend money we don’t have, but isn’t that what vacationing is all about?