Photos: Bay Area Trip, Day 3: Alcatraz, Oakland

The third day of the trip saw Huzzard and I opt to stay on the San Francisco side of the bay during the day.  From what I was told, and from what I could guess just from passing through, Oakland is about as desirable of a place to visit and hang out in as apparently, crossing any metaphorical train tracks in any instance.  So, we did the Alcatraz tour, and went to the hipster part of San Franscico, before taking the train into Oakland, and visiting the home of the Oakland Athletics.

Despite the fact that Oakland seems every bit the lower-class, sketchy segment of the Bay Area, I have to say that I really liked the Oakland Coliseum, even if it’s called the “O.co Coliseum,” yes, named after the company that was once known as Overstock.com.  Based on all of the things I heard, I was prepared to not like the Coliseum, and initial visuals of chain link fences, razor wire and late gate openings didn’t exactly help.

But wandering around the multi-purpose arena and getting a look at the field from the various available angles, and seeing how Oakland diehard fans came to cheer, I have to say that I surprised myself by how appealing I was finding the whole place.  There’s something charming and simple about the Oakland Coliseum, and A’s fans are so drastically different from their counterparts, just on the other side of the bay.

Overall, I found the experience in Oakland to be superior than that of the fancy-schmancy San Francisco.  Typically, I try to end my trips on high notes, and with Oakland coming last, I didn’t think that was going to be the case.  How wrong I was.

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Photos: Bay Area Trip, day 2: San Francisco

My primary reason for going to the Bay Area in the first place was because it was home to two more Major League ballparks that needed to be visited on my long-standing quest to visit all the MLB cities.  After a day of too much driving after too much flying, it was adventures in San Francisco via foot and rail.

As a whole, I don’t know how to really feel about San Francisco.  I think at its core, it’s one of those places I chalk up as “nice place to visit, but wouldn’t really want to live there.”  It’s funny, considering just how far north the Bay Area is, from like the borders into Latin America, but when the day is over, I’m convinced there’s significantly larger Hispanic numbers in San Francisco than I witnessed in Los Angeles and San Diego.

It really kind of does feel like a different country at times.  And I think it’s predominantly due to the supposed lack of well, white people you see, in comparison to everyone else.  Lots of Hispanic people, lots of Asian people, and I can’t quite grasp it, but it’s like there’s a large number of cross-pollenation between the Latinos and Asians; there were lots of people that appeared to have characteristics of both, and I can only see so much before I have to say “shit, not everyone can be Filipino.”  But there’s a lot of black hair and brown eyes, and not nearly as much as blond, brown, red hairs and green, blue and hazel eyes that I’m used to having a larger variety of on a fairly consistent basis.

To some degree, San Francisco kind of reminds me of Atlanta, but on a much larger scale.  Interestingly, one of the biggest claims about SF is the fact that it’s some sort of gay mecca, but I hardly noticed much of a community at all.  A few neighborhoods flying rainbows, but not nearly the obvious sub-neighborhoods like one would find in Atlanta.

I think what felt the most like Atlanta to me was the BART rail system.  I was told that one could get pretty much anywhere in the city via BART, and that I didn’t really need a rental car, due to their supposed holy grail of mass transit, but when my trip ended, I couldn’t help but think about how inefficient BART was.  What nobody told me about was that there was BART, and then there was CALTRAIN and a supposed third public transit authority that, when all combined, equaled a fairly passable system of getting from point A to point B.  But BART on its own is just like MARTA – it only goes in a line.  If I really wanted to go anywhere, it’s take BART to Point B, and then use CALTRAIN to Point C, and then transfer over to whatever-system’s bus to get to Point D.  When I got to Point D, I was about $10 poorer, and about an hour was gone.  Way overrated.

But I guess the rail system is the primary option, considering how there’s pretty much nowhere to park inside of the city.  All the sidewalks are filled with people hoarding their parking spots, and what looks like parking spaces are always in front of a microscopic driveway made for Mini Coopers, Fiats and/or Peugeots or something.

But anyway, despite the criticism about the city’s flawed transportation issues, it’s still an interesting place.  The architecture and city scape is unlike any other city I’ve visited in my travels, further leading towards the idea that it almost feels like a different country.  The hills are like nothing I’ve traversed on foot outside of a mountainous hike, and the visuals definitely feel like one of a kind to the country.  I did enjoy the weather that rarely touched beyond 70F, too.

But I don’t think I’d want to live out there, for a second.  Pictures below. Read more »

Studies show that people can eat my tits

All throughout my life, I have taken a lot of criticism about how I always look angry.  Are you okay?  Is everything alright?  You look upset/mad/pissed about something.  Most of the time, I really am fine, regardless of the agitated-looking neutral facial appearance I have.  But don’t tell that to the segment of the world that believes that appearances do matter, and I can’t really say I blame them, because often times I think it too.

But it turns out, that those with “aggressive looks” are SCIENTIFICALLY PROVEN to be more generous, selfless and better human beings to their friends and close ones:

…men with angry, violent faces are actually far more likely to makes sacrifices for their close friends.

Well hey, if it was published by the National Institute of Health, it has to be true, right?

So do you hear that? Just because I look pissed doesn’t mean I am upset and homicidal.  I’m generous and selfless and put other people first like a kind and considerate motherfucker.  I’m more likely to be the best friend you never knew you had, if I don’t scare the shit out of you first.

Photos: Bay Area Trip, day 1: Trip to Modesto, California

My trip out to the Bay Area region of Northern California started out with of all things, leaving it immediately, heading east into the more rural part of California, namely Modesto.  What for?  What else?  Baseball.  Minor League baseball.

Modesto, California, home of the Modesto Nuts.  Yes, I drove two hours outside of San Francisco to see a team called the Nuts, because it is an alternative term for male genitalia.  That, and minor league baseball is fucking awesome, and the trip was pretty well worth it, as it was a cool ballpark, and I saw a good game.

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Second filler post: CHICKEN McBOOTS

OMG I ate some McBoots after I got back from North Carolina.  So gratifying, so delicious, even if they are so bad for your health.  I just did not give a damn.  I’m still not entirely sure of what caused the sudden infatuation and demand for McBoots, but I’m willing to wager a good bit that it happened when I was inebriated, and then it trickled into my sober hours.  Once a craving for the McBoots comes into play, nothing short of McBoots will satiate the need.

In other news, I’ve processed all my images, and within the next few days, I’ll begin making some more substantial photo/writing brog posts, chronicling my recent journeys and showing crappy photography of the places I’ve been, and things I’ve seen.

The next few weekends stand to look pretty nondescript and stagnant in comparison to the last two, but you know what?  I can’t wait to sleep in in my own bed this weekend, and hope to get some substantial rest, as long as my dog will allow it.