final hours in san francisco.

You know, it's funny. I went on this trip to San Francisco, had an amazing time, went to two different Catholic churches, and returned to Pittsburgh to Shit Storm 2011 {which includes but is not limited to: ex-boyfriends' painful business in your face, my car getting broken into, and finding out today--yes, just today!--that someone ELSE I was getting close to and beginning to trust TOTALLY BETRAYED ME}. 

Quite frankly, I have no interest in church or God right now. In fact, I'm beginning to think He's a total fabrication.  Or just a jerk who likes to see--and lets--good people suffer.

But. I digress.  

FINAL DAY. Sunday, July 3.

It was a beautiful church, don't get me wrong. I'm definitely old-school when it comes to churches. Don't give me any of that modern spaceship bullshit. I want beautiful architecture, columns, spires, marble, gold, candles galore, stained glass, the works.

We got to the church really early {typical of my darling papa}, so we were able to walk around the area a bit, relax, take some pictures. One of my favorite sights?  A man practicing his sword-fighting. Alone.

You know, in full sword-fighting dress.

Awesome.

And then there was the lovely Tai Chi morning crowd:

And all the hungry San Franciscans {is that what they're called?} lining up at Mama's for some yummy breakfast at the corner of Stockton and Filbert:

When we finally got into the church for Mass, my favorite moment of the day occurred. A man walked in with his pet bird. And the two were oh-so-very-sweet with one another.

After Mass, we went back to the hotel, and during the cab ride, my dad was totally speaking Russian with the cab driver. Because, you know, that's how my dad operates.

Then we packed up the rest of our stuff, and headed toward the airport. IN A MERCEDES. WITH TINTED WINDOWS. And my dad? Yeah. He was totally speaking POLISH with THAT driver.

BUT.

When we finally got to the airport, of COURSE there were issues. Like, United didn't feel it necessary to be able to have me check in with my parents, EVEN THOUGH WE WERE ALL ON THE SAME CONFIRMATION.

Here's my Glare of Death for United:

But luckily, there was a helpful service assistant who took matters into her own hands {while my father, in all 6'4" of himself, was stern yet polite}. And so, I made it through check-in and security.

And then we spotted this at one of the shops on our way to our gate:

Me pointing at the Secret Agent L magnet that Quotable Cards made and now sells all over the world. Amazing!

All in all, it was an amazing trip. I didn't get to my apartment in the city until almost 2 a.m. on Monday, July 4, but that's okay. I fell into bed, slept for the rest of the day AND the following day, and will always have the happy memories of my amazing trip to San Francisco.

Thanks, Dad and Mom.

My next post will return us to the Regularly Scheduled Life of Laura and the Shit Storm of 2011 That Has Ensued. I know! I bet you can't wait!