Cricket and I each bought a new pair of boots especially for Boot Camp. But I didn’t even get to wear mine because it was pouring down rain. Cricket got to wear hers, though, because her new boots were made of rubber (red). 

The workshop was amazing. The speakers, all extraordinary, were Mike Jung, Jennifer Lynn Alvarez, Naheed Hasnat, and Hillary Homzie. There were 45 or 50 people and the room had the best feeling. There was not too much pressure to mingle, though I did meet someone I really liked: a live wire named Joel Knopf, who recently came out with a CD for kids. His latest song is called Where Are My Pants? Lunch with Cricket at The Forge (thin-crusted wood-fired pizza) was delightful and just in time, because we were both growing weak with hunger. 


If my blog were the only place you saw photos of San Francisco, you would think San Francisco was heaven. But San Francisco is also hell––I’m just not compelled to take pictures of that part. I felt sad racing past the Civic Center and down the steps to Bart this morning. When we emerged from the 12th Street Station across the bay, Oakland looked like a jewel compared to our city. But then again, by 11 am three cars parked right outside our workshop had been broken into. In the evening we took Bart back to San Francisco, and this time we tried getting off at the Powell Street Station. Not fun being in downtown San Francisco––at least at that particular time and place (5th and Market). So much in-your-face crazy, loud unhappiness––including the maniacal behavior of a cop parked up on the sidewalk. Many homeless, hopeless people.