| March 28, 2004 | One Near-Perfect Thing |
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"If I could do just one near-perfect thing, I'd be happy." -belle & sebastian, "If She Wants Me" ('Dear Catastrophe Waitress' is a pretty damn near perfect album, if you ask me) It's been warm at nights, and we sleep tangled up in the sheets with the window open and in the breeze you can smell the jasmine. We spend the weekend mornings giggling in my bed watching every single Strong Bad Email on HomestarRunner.com. When we get hungry, we go eat eggs bambina (and sip mimosas with friends) at Kelleigh's Ebb Tide. Afterward we drive the convertible down Dolores to August's apartment and drink beers and listen to the pirate radio station on the deck in the sun. Sometimes we barbeque with my nextdoor neighbors. On weekday mornings we walk Bocce down 24th St., and a drunk guy often tells me "greyhounds are the only dog mentioned by name in the bible!" On Wednesday nights we go to Dr. Hal at the Odeon (and sometimes we convince our friends to meet us there... and sometimes our friends' brother wins a shot of fernet for asking funny questions). We don't get very much accomplished, unless you count kisses. Labels: sanfrancisco, sf posted by Jess Barron @ 8:33 PM 
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