Bay Area Baby Shower Bonanza, or, In Which I Finally Write About San Francisco, Part I

Ah, finally, the promised and long-awaited post detailing my trip to San Francisco. I’m sorry to have kept you all waiting, but, as the poets say, shit happens.

I went up to the Bay Area to see my lil’ sis’, who is not as little as she used to be now that she’s carrying MY NEPHEW!! Hooray for babies who aren’t mine!  My sister and brother-in-law are blonde haired, blue-and-green-eyed masterpieces of human perfection, so I always picture their child coming into the world looking like a precious moments doll and speaking fluent Dutch. We call him Pierpont.*

[*DISCLAIMER: my poor, unsuspecting sister had nothing to do with that. My OTHER sister and I started calling him that because we grew up watching I Love Lucy and it’s the most completely ridiculous name Lucy comes up with for the future Little Ricky. Just go watch it so I don’t feel like an idiot.]

Our foray into the city was brief, seeing as there was much baby-showering to be done. Since I hadn’t been to Chinatown in oh, over a decade it was so refreshing to eat spicy plates of deliciousness at an oh-so-yummy Chinese restaurant called Brandy Ho’s down thataways.

After that, we spotted this beautiousness:

Just so you know, this is my idea of heaven; a place where there are so many books they just spontaneously take flight from happiness overload. If I were a book, I’d do exactly that. I think I’m the only person in the history of ever to actually wish I were a book.

Underneath them a Chinese ensemble played.

In case you were wondering, this was across the street:

Wait, here’s a better view:

Then we cruised around Little Italy, which is REALLY little.

Has anyone else noticed that anywhere there is a Chinatown, a Little Italy is right next door? And it seems really little in comparison?

And it was terribly quaint and beautiful…

Filled with this:

And this:

My husband is a second generation Italian from a REALLY Italian family, so I now feel free to eat as much Italian food as I want, seeing as I am now Italian, which means it’s healthy for me. At least that’s how I think it works.

Perhaps the best part of the evening was this little man, who wandered the packed sidewalk cafes with his saucy beret:

My sister, who has been abroad a time or two, remarked that this situation bore a striking resemblance to the street kids in Romania who try and earn money from tourists. Well this kid earned it – the accordion is not for the faint of heart. I know this because everyone I know who plays the accordion is now deceased, so I’m kind of an expert.

A few more of my attempts at being artistic with a point-and-shoot:

So, in a post with “Baby Shower” in the title, why didn’t I show any photographic evidence of said baby shower?

Well, I promised my sister NO UNAPPROVED PHOTOS ON THE INTERNET, and I respect promises I make to unpredictable pregnant women, especially since I want to be able to see my nephew someday and not be banned from future family events.

Or banned from my favorite city. That would really suck.