07.31.09

dear dashiell hammett st: you are the latest discovery in my attempt to trod off the beaten path when walking home.

07.30.09

dear sofia masri: your spectrum of handmade porcelain jewelry is refreshingly original.

07.29.09

dear four seasons next to my office: i often see you roll out the red carpet, but never who it’s for.

07.28.09

dear neighbors: thank you for pointing out the obvious to the oblivious.

07.27.09

dear monday morning: it’s just another manic commute, me with all the other commuters, clomp-clomping our feet as we descend the cement mountain.

07.26.09

dear tribal mask and stuffed dead animal store: it was a little creepy in here, and this image proves that there was definitely some strange energy in the air.

07.25.09

dear sun: welcome back. please stay.

07.24.09

dear mad men for banana republic: take a television series that, through it’s writing, glamorizes working in an advertising agency and mix it with two parts retail clothing chain that, through it’s collection, glamorizes working in an advertising agency, shake over ice, pour, add an olive and what you get is a dirty, brilliant advertising campaign.

07.23.09

dear children’s imaginations: sometimes i go into toy stores just to make sure i haven’t totally forgotten how to think about things that are outta this world.

07.22.09

dear naked statue boy on the sidewalk: i wonder who gave you those flowers?

07.21.09

dear vitamin water: major fail on this ad campaign. who would want to turn into carrie underwood? certainly no one in the san francisco market.

07.20.09

dear scaffolding: every time i walk beneath you in this earthquake-prone city, i feel like i have a death wish.

07.19.09

dear fernando: next time we get together to make cupcakes (it’s been awhile) we can make these terrier ones that look like charlie.

07.18.09

dear owly shadow puppets: i love your laser-cut valentines.

07.17.09

dear sketchbooks: i like how your maker filled old novel covers with blank pages but i am left wondering, what happened to the stories?

07.16.09

dear blood centers of the pacific: i have always liked your logo; it’s simple, clever and to the point. the accompanying type could use some work though.

07.15.09

dear muggles: thank you for being even more extreme fans than i, and making this moment magic.

07.14.09

dear half-blood prince: you are only moments away…

07.13.09

dear skinny hipster girls with big designer handbags: i notice there are a lot of you in this city. being more of a jacket/shoe person myself, i have never understood the big bag phenomenon. even less though, do i understand why you are walking around sporting limp, greasy hair and a tattered wife-beater, you drag your vans along the sidewalk as if the weight of the third world were upon your shoulders, and yet you apathetically clasp a $600 handbag (probably manufactured somewhere in said third world.) what do you store in it? a cute sweater? shampoo? or is that where you conceal your zest for life?

07.12.09

dear mr. potato head: did you ever dream you would someday sell couture menswear at barney’s?

07.11.09

dear french(?) bulldogs: i just can’t lie and pretend you are cute, i’m sorry.

07.10.09

dear louis vuitton: i never noticed your pride window display during the day.

07.09.09

dear orange scooter riding toddler: i appreciate your truly new-age approach to journeying the labyrinth. you cleared out all the tai chi-ers in search of their sense of time, space and inner harmony.

07.08.09

dear bus: i am always happy not to be on you when you whiz by me, going up the crazy hills. throwing all the passengers into one another’s laps/bags of plastic bottles.

07.07.09

dear swings atop the hill: some nights on the way home from work, i swing in you. despite the inevitable sand in shoes.

07.06.09

dear tourists: now that it’s july, throngs of you have invaded san francisco in polar fleece jackets, camera straps and khaki shorts. having been raised in a coastal new england community, i am decidedly patient with your cluelessly annoying quarks. but one daily event kills me a little bit inside, everytime. when riding the cable car, and the gripman shouts, “next stop, sacramento!” you need not giggle and repeat what he just said. we are not actually going to sacramento–merely sacramento street–and from what i’ve seen, he has no interest in humoring you.

07.05.09

dear napa: you set such a perfect stage for a day, that in addition to providing fine wines, a cloudless sky, gentle breeze, golden hills and ripe grapevines, the baby swans swim by as if on cue.

07.04.09

dear former president bush: i thank my lucky stars that your stolen terms are finally over, but your hair/fashion influences are still felt in the far corners of (in this case) calistoga.

07.03.09

dear hybrid rental car: you were so disarmingly quiet, we did not know if you were on or off when we went into the store. eventually we assumed off. but your lights were still on when we came out 40 minutes later…

07.02.09

dear california: the fanciest flowers seem to grow so effortlessly beneath your blend of sun and fog.

07.01.09

dear olive trees: i intend to plant you in my backyard someday. alongside the lemon trees.