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More and more and more sunshine. These were taken in a friend’s backyard. I’m standing in an empty fish pond and drinking a mocha from Martha & Bros., trying not to think about all the cocktails I foolishly consumed the night before, at both Mango and Cockblock, nor how I was still fighting a nasty summer cold.

M & I were waiting for them (“bcw” and Dr. Dyke, if you must know) to look after their kittens before we headed down to Jack London Square for the 2nd annual Eat Real Festival, an amazing weekend full of the greater SF Bay Area’s best street food carts, local beer and wine, entertainment and the most current, informative happenings in the world of slow food and sustainable eats.

This is FFAF’s 2nd year at the festival!

Wearing:

Levi’s Denim
Old Navy linen cami with pintucks
RVCA shirt w/ roll-up sleeves
Boots from Portland’s Rock n’ Rose
Bag by Emilie M.
Handmade necklace
Kenneth Cole sunglasses

It was a gorgeous day. We ate so much, we drank a lot, we all stripped down because it got so bloody hot, and we sat in the shade to watch the most incredible butcher contest I’ve ever seen before in my life (okay, so it was the only one I’ve ever seen). Another great year with the best friends at a superbly done event. GO OAKLAND!

Here are some fun pics from the day:

THE GOOD STUFF (brace yourselves, it’s PORK-O:

CONFESSION: We spent our Sunday yesterday at the first ever Eat Real Festival in Oakland’s Jack London Square, just a few blocks from where we lived a few months ago! It had me all wistful about the years I’ve spent living there, with and without my tomboy – so much happens over the course of an entire decade, and Oakland (as well as the many incredible folks who have lived or live there still) helped shape who I am today. Stay tuned for an upcoming blog post with my brand new Oaklandish t-shirt!

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CONFESSION: Golden Glass at Fort Mason was incredible. I think I sampled three dozen wines at the very least, and there were none that weren’t delicious, just some more delicious or complex than others. It was an unbelievably beautiful day in San Francisco and I was thrilled to be on the water. M & I had been so busy with open houses on Saturday that I never was able to pick up some velvet ribbon for a trim on my vintage straw boater hat, but I was so committed to the idea of a hat that I decided to wear this one in a radically different way than I have in the past. I decided to set it atop a fancy updo and pin the veil over and under the twist of hair and love how well it turned out!

I was also adventurous in the culinary department; braised pork belly in a clam shell bun from Heaven’s Dog, incredible mortadella from Fra’mani, basil olive oil that changed my life from Stella Cadente, alfajores from Sabores del Sur, freshly zested lime truffles from NeoCocoa and (this is the true triumph of the day, as I usually abhor goat cheese) a fantastic chevre from Harley Farms.

The truly wonderful news, however, is that M & I are signing the lease on our new place on Wednesday night! Noe problem! Mission accomplished! We couldn’t be more thrilled with it. Everything’s happening so fast. We’re moving in 10 days and haven’t got a thing packed!

Confession: Seeking fresh air and the smell of new books, M & I took the petite to the bookstore in between bouts of late afternoon rain at Jack London Square. I settled on a copy of Mirage and Fashion Now 2, inwardly cringing at the neglected stack of books back at home (The Gift Of Fear, Infinite Jest, The Doors Of His Face, The Lamps Of His Mouth). We strolled through the bookshelves while the petite browsed the YA section (she ended up with Pretties, the 2nd book of the Uglies trilogy for all you YA fans), and after taking some FFAF photos we passed a display of little squishy baby toys. I instantly lunged for the Max doll, from Where The Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

Right then is when I learned that M has never read this book. M HAS NEVER READ WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. “What is that little thing?” she asked, almost distrustful. “He’s Max! It’s Max! You know…Max is very, very naughty and gets sent to bed without supper and then he goes on WILD adventures with the wild, wild things,” here is where I grab the little monster wild thing doll and shove it right into M’s furrowed brows, “THIS is the wild thing,” I say, “Remember?” “No, she says, “I’ve never read that. That one looks like a wild thing, too,” she pointed at Max accusingly. I gasped and shook my head sadly. I was beside myself, flailing both dolls around and hissing about how is it even possible that she’s never read nor seen nor heard of the book because HELLO!?!?

The petite wandered over, probably to tell us to shut up as we were embarrassing her a great deal, but she was 100% Team Skinny on the matter once I informed her. She just rolled her eyes and sighed as if the burden of M’s lifelong deprivation of this tale was simply too much to bear and left us standing there. I put Max into my pocket and followed M into the travel section and tried to explain the significance of the beloved book to M.

It’s just that M, in so many ways, is Max. All dressed in wolf’s clothes, a stubborn, brooding little thing, wears a crown and makes mischief? Likes boats and a good rumpus and bossin’ folks? Good grief!