Dear newly found Giants fans,
Welcome to the club! So glad you could finally join the rest of us! Did you start following the Giants after their 2010 or 2012 World Series Championship? Do I sound bitter? I don’t mean to. In the end, the more fans the better! I’ve been a SF Giants fan for as long as I can remember. While you were getting tanked at AT&T Park and “watching” the NLCS games in 2010, I was stuck in Philadelphia, among Phillies Phucking Phanatics. Time. Of. My. Life. (Just as bad as when the Niners lost to the NY Giants in the 2011 NFC Championship and your girl was stuck in the middle of the celebrations in Manhattan). And in 2012, while you rallied and got high and got drunk, and celebrated, and played hooky, and skipped work for the SF Giants World Series 2012 Celebratory Parade, I was in New York… experiencing Hurricane Sandy (although I did watch the parade online with limited, slow speed wi-fi I pawned off from NYU). So yeah, you can say I’m a bitter fan. This year I went to Spring Training, and having missed Spring Training for the past few years, I was overwhelmed by how big the crowds got… and upset about how many of the so called “fans” didn’t know their own players. I’ve been to Spring Training for many years. I’ve spent countless hours inside and outside of the Scottsdale Stadium getting autographs from players, chatting it up with them, saying hey to coaches, and generally enjoying my time spent with my Giants. This year, however, I decided to forgo the whole battle for autographs because I’m twenty one years old now and I’m pretty sure I’m too old for that, but mostly because I didn’t want to have to battle grown ass men, and all of these new fan chicks for signatures. Instead I sat idly by and rolled my eyes when these “fans” would see a player and ask me, “Who is that?!” and then proceed to ask for their autograph. I’ve watched our players from our farm system. I met Timmy during his rookie year when he was essentially unknown, told him I was in love with him, to which he responded with a blush and “I’ve never thought I could actually feel tall standing next to someone” when we took a picture together. I’ve seen my boys come and go. You, you band wagoners, however, are graced with the celebrity status of a multiple championship lineup right now. So of course you care.Do you even remember the good times we had?! With Joe Nathan, Jim Brower and Schmidty? Do you even know that “Woody” is so much more than just a slang term for an erection, or a long board deck? Did you? Were you by Barry Zito’s side when critics, writers, sports reporters, teams etc. were laughing at his $126million contract and had a tough time following through? I know I definitely was. Do you remember when another catcher who captured our hearts became concussed? Like, does Mike Matheny pre- Cardinals ring a bell? The only catcher collision that makes you emotional is Posey v. Cousins, right? What about when Robb Nen sacraficed his arm in the 2002 World Series in Game 6 against the Angels? WHERE WERE YOU?! Can you say exactly where you were when Barry hit #756? Hmm? Or what about the 2002 slugout in the dugout with Bonds and Kent? Remember the days with Felipe Alou or Dusty? When the Giants infield consisted of Vizquel, J.T., and Richie? Now you remember. But did you care then?
I really don’t think you understand torture.
So enjoy the season! Really. It’ll be fun! 2013 means big things for our Giants.
Happy Opening Day 2013!
FINALLY! SF gets more than recognized as a kickass, trill, city. So Bloomberg gets the ball rolling here… Yes, San Francisco is a beautiful (albeit chilly) costal city, but the views are to die for. At the same time, I’m sick of out of towners (and even locals) complaining about how “chilly” San Francisco is. BRING A FUCKING SWEATER. You’ve been forewarned. You’re in northern Cali-fucking-fornia… not L.A. … No one likes L.A. anyways (sorry ’bout it SoCal readers). So good old Bloomberg is right, “this coastal city packs in so much—from world-class restaurants and museums to community fairs and music festivals, a large educated class, and an improving economy”. Damn straight. But let’s be real, they only scratch the surface of the city’s well deserved name as 2012′s Best City.
For the ranking, Businessweek.com once again teamed up with Bloomberg Rankings to evaluate data on 100 of the country’s largest cities. We looked at leisure attributes (the number of restaurants, bars, libraries, museums, professional sports teams, and park acres by population), educational attributes (public school performance, the number of colleges, and rate of graduate-degree holders), economic factors (income and unemployment), crime, and air quality.
Leisure, education, economy, crime and air quality… all aspects in which San Francisco legitimately owns 99 other cities in basically. I came up with a few other things as well (in no particular order) that define The City (the term coined by locals), or Frisco/San Fran (term coined by tourists):
- Wassup Silicon Valley? San Francisco is located only a short drive from the Valley… the Mecca of tech nerds, the birthplace of all things Google and Apple, etc. It’s safe to say San Francisco is always in the know technology-wise.
- Beautiful, luscious green. Only the finest… Fields….Parks. And, you know…Green/Purple what have you.
- Speaking of green. San Francisco may be the only city where weed is legal, and plastic bags are not. SF leads the way in all things eco friendly and green. How dare you go into Whole Foods without your reusable bags! Prepare to be shunned by hippies/hipsters/granolas a like.
- You won’t find a cooler hippie life anywhere else. The O.G. hippies can be found all around Haight, and of course those wanna be hippies.
- Foodies galore. The best meals I’ve had surprisingly haven’t been in NYC. Always in SF. Always the best fucking food ever. Danny Bowien’s delicious Mission Chinese in the LES taking NYC by storm? That shit started in San Francisco. And while (even though I like to think that) food trucks and street food probably didn’t originate in San Francisco, I’m pretty sure SF does it best. For all of you lucky ass sons of bitches who are fortunate enough to be located in SF, you MUST check out Off the Grid’s mobile food pods/markets. Like, right fucking now. It’s probably comparable to Brooklyn’s Dekalb Market. Just as many hipsters, just as much good food.
- Again, on the food hype… mexican food in San Francisco / California… Nothing will ever compare. EVER.
- Sorry, one more plug about food… It’s said fusion cuisine started in SF. You’re welcome world.
- Free love! SF is the birthplace of the gay movement. What better way to celebrate that every year at the Gay Pride Parade by dancing around naked in front of the Civic Center? That being said, the city is all about not judging, embracing everyone, and loving all. San Francisco’s got that beautiful thang going on.
- Where else can AZNS, yuppies, hipsters, and hobos get along? Seriously. Where? … Yeah, that’s what I thought.
- Mark Twain supposedly has said, “The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco”. For real? As I’ve said before, people need to stop hating on the climate in SF, and start appreciating. It’s called a Marine fucking layer. What else do you expect when you’re surrounded by the Pacific Ocean?! The City by the bay, sorry we’re not a fucking desert. Get over it and appreciate. Its lovely, okay?
- SF sports teams. The SF Giants, the SF 49ers (I will neglect to mention the move to Santa Clara – that shit be weird). Our sports teams are top notch, and have both been to their respective playoffs within the last 5 years. Golden. Even bigger plus? They support each other too.
- It’s Cali-fucking-fornia. Is there a better state?
I left my heart in San Francisco.
So it’s Monday, and I’m currently nursing a Outside Lands hangover. For those of you who don’t know, Outside Lands is a 3 day music festival in San Francisco’s (No, not Frisco, or San Fran… its San Fran-fucking-cisco) Golden Gate Park. Headliners this years included Beck, Foo Fighters, Stevie Wonder, Jack White, Alabama Shakes, Franz Ferdinand, Metallica, Justice, Neil Young, Passion Pit, etc… very much comparable to the likes of Lollapalooza or Coachella. Despite the fact that most of San Francisco was about 60 degrees all weekend, Golden Gate Park, which is perpetually covered in a blanket of motherfucking fog, it was about negative degrees fahrenheit in my book. That not only separated the local San Franciscans (who came prepared and appropriately dressed) from the out of towners (who were dressed for the desert heat of Coachella), but also made for interesting music festival fashion.
I’ve concluded that at music festivals there are two types of people:
1) The people that spent far too long and tried too hard to look like their outfit is effortless. I’m totally allowed to make fun of these people because I constantly find myself under this category. Girls will have purposefully disheveled hair, and meticulously placed strands of hair with a headband that looks all to casual, yet probably was about $30 at Free People. They probably spent about 20 minutes in the mirror trying to find the best off shoulder top which truly accentuated their collarbones, as well as another 10 minutes picking the right maxi skirt that hangs perfectly on the hips. Their outfit says “I spent hours picking this out and getting ready, but doesn’t it look like I threw it on in a rush super casual and shit?” Despite the fact that she’ll be wearing her aviators to hide her bloodshot eyes from smoking too much weed, she’ll still spend another 20 minutes perfecting her eye makeup. Guys on the other hand have less dilemmas to deal with… but that doesn’t mean its all the more easier for them. Its quite the challenge picking which bro tank compliments their neon shorts. You’d be suprised. 2) The people that simply don’t care at all. These are the coolest people by far. Their Doc Martens are probably vintage, and there’s a good chance that they’re wearing the same pants from last night… but who cares? They look kickass, and hardly have to try at it, so that’s all that matters really. Their hippie-like, unwashed, stringy hair suprisingly looks somewhat stylish, despite the fact that its just bedhead/caked with sweat. These people can also pull off the big ass, John Lennon inspired, rounded sunglasses, that would make anyone else look like they belong in Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. The guys on the other hand can be spotted wearing MC Hammer pants, pajama pants, a band T-shirt, possibly velcro Teva spandals, a vintage snap back, or any other piece of clothing coming from a $5 bin in a thrift store on Haight street. Also included in this category are the Original Hippies of SF which can be found on the hills of the outskirts of the stages, dancing like no one’s watching (oh, but they are), and swaying mindlessly. These people don’t care as much about what they look like than getting to see their favorite bands and smoking copious amounts of marijuana, eating edibles, and finding the best munchies. Everyone wants to be these people’s best friend. There also a third category that exists in music festival fashions the people that didn’t make any effort at all to dress up… or any effort in life for that matter. Need an example for this one? Just YouTube ‘Ultra Girl’… actually don’t, I’ll save your eyes. Three words: Hot. Fucking. Mess.
The music, as always, was incredible. A few thoughts on a few of the acts we saw at Outside Lands.
Zola Jesus. Artist I most want to have as my spirit animal.
Alabama Shakes. The band that if you haven’t heard their music before, you really, absofuckinglutely need to right now. NOW. The lead singer is sassy as fuck too.
Norah Jones. Wait what? When did she become popular amongst males 20-25?
fun. Never judge a band by their hit single. They’re so much more than that. And really, really, fun.
Santigold. I aspire to dance like her and her backup dancers. Biggest dance party aside from Skrillex.
Ultimately the weekend was a huge success. The music was superb, the people were awesome, the environment was to die for, and the munchies were fantastic (Bahn Mi sandwiches, funnel cakes, Karas cupcakes, galore).
- Their name sake. Obviously. I don’t think I’ve been able to look at another guy with the same name as one of my exes and not have queasy / uneasy feelings or nostalgia. Hearing the name makes me A) want to run and hide, B) puke until my stomach is inverted, or C) just teleport to my bed, take a xanax and sleep it off. To say a strong reaction results is a huge understatement.
- Bon Iver. I’m currently trying to still listen to Bon Iver without thinking about the emotions tied with certain songs. Goddammit, Bon Iver, why do you have to be so lovely and emotional and heart wrenching? Oh, its hipsterlove.
- Being an avid sports fan. I’m very loyal to my local home teams – the SF Giants and the 49ers. Meeting other people in New York means clashing with fans of different teams. Being a girl, they expect me to dial down my enthusiasm so they can exert their superiority and pretend like their team is the best and they know what they’re talking about. This is rarely the case (me dialing down my enthusiasm, and other people knowing what they’re talking about), so I either compromise my sports fan ideals for a man (its rarely reversed), or move on.
- My Birthmarks/Freckles. One of my exes always pointed out every little sun spot or freckle or birthmark (what is the difference), I had all over me… some I didn’t even know existed. It was real cute… until they admitted their ex had one in the same spot I did. Now I’m left constantly wondering if my ex will say to their next girlfriend, “My last two ex girlfriends had a birthmark right there”. I mean, that’s totally something you go over when you cover all the bases the first date, right? In the meantime, I can totally laser remove this birthmark, right? AKA Can I wipe away this terrible memory?
- My Expectations of Foreign Men. Highly exaggerated? Probably, yes.
- My Hair. Someone once helped me convince myself that it’d be a good idea to cut my hair into a short A-line bob. It was cute for a bit … but I’d rather have not been convinced (It SUCKS trying to figure out a way to put your hair up – all those layers, all that shortness.. don’t even get me started on the hassel its been growing it longer). Unfortunately I can’t blame that one time I died my hair red/copper color (an subsequently resembled a Japanese tourist) on a significant other or man of my past… my own fault.
- Man-Oogling. A bunch of the guys I’ve dated have been extremely jealous. Even to the point where I’d be watching TV and comment on how hot Jon Hamm, or Ryan Gosling, or Robert Downey Jr. is looking, and he would blow a gasket and legitimately get upset about the fact that I wasn’t concentrating such energies in telling him how hot he looked. Ridiculous, right? Anyways, every time I look through magazines or watch TV etc. I feel incredibly guilty thinking such thoughts about good looking men. Like, Aaron Rodgers will come up on TV, and I’ll stare and drool for 5 seconds, and like a dog trained by an electric fence, jerk my head away and hush those bad thoughts. Kidding…slightly.
- LUSH Dirty Soap. The smell – a cross between spearmint and Old Spice, gives me nausea. Thanks to a great employee discount at LUSH, I’d often buy Dirty Soap (one of the products streamlined for men) for man friends. I’m not sure if they actually liked the smell/soap, or if they had too much fun saying “I’m going to the shower to get Dirty” or “I’m a Dirty boy” or “Dirty boys need to get clean”, etc. (okay I threw in a few I made up on my own, but you get the picture), either way, they used it, so with my great employee discount, all I smelled was Dirty! Now the fumes just make me want to projectile vomit.
cheers to singledom and being haunted by your past!!!