February 1: Lori trained last summer and fall to run the Pasadena half marathon. Unfortunately, she didn’t run that morning due to the fires and poor air quality. She made up for that by running the Huntington Beach half marathon. The parents, Adrian and I went to cheer her on, but missed her (and she missed us) at mile 4 and at the finish line on PCH. Sigh. Our “¡Sí se puede!” and “Lori rocks!” signs were appreciated, but not always correctly pronounced. I heard “sí me puedo,” “sí ses puedes,” “sí se puedo” and other aberrations. To be fair, lots of people were able to correctly pronounce the phrase.
February 2: My meter read “fail.” I didn’t have to pay, but wondered if someone was trying to send a message. I hope not.
February 3: No, I didn’t stop by for a free breakfast. I needed to get to work.
February 4: Oops. I forgot to make a picture…
February 5: I love sitting behind a big window or glass sliding doors and staring out at the rain.
February 6: I flew up to San Francisco for school. As soon as I’d checked in at the hotel, I caught a cab to SOMArts to meet up with Rio and Ralph. We checked out Hybridity, Rio’s first solo curated show at SOMArts. Sadly, we missed the opening, but that just meant we had more time to ask Rio questions about the curating process and the work behind creating his pieces for the show. Later, we headed over to the Mission for Strange Hope at Galería de la Raza. Rio also has a piece in that show.
February 7: I like when San Francisco is not cloudy and wet. This was the view from the hotel room. Hey Chispa, does that building on the right look familiar?
February 8: I like how they shortened the title. And no, I didn’t watch this movie. I watched The Wrestler. My friend and I agreed that it was great, but a little too gory for our taste.
February 9: I found this teacup at Anthropologie during my SF trip. I bought a pair. It’s now my favorite cup to drink my Theraflu. And no, Anthropologie didn’t have every number. They had random numbers like 18 and 54 and 31.
February 10: Colds suck. I don’t think you can tell how sore my nose feels.