Balboa, Balboa have you any wool?

Friday night after work I came back to the hotel to grab my camera and then headed to Ocean Beach, as Amy suggested. I need to work on being a better lone traveler. I feel like an obvious tourist, so that holds me back a little. I ended up in a bead shop and got a few beads in the green family to make a bracelet. I've tried twice now to put it together. I will work on it when I have more patience. Sometimes I get in those "instant gratification" moods, like now, so it is not a good time to try threading tiny beads.

As with most things I've encountered so far, Ocean Beach was nice, but would be better with a cohort. I walked around a bit after buying beads and accidentally ended up in a head shop. I was wearing my bright pink shirt with a zipper and my grandma sweater. I so fit in. I'm sure I looked completely uptight and out of my element, however people who know me well know I'm not as wholesome as I look. But, these people don’t know me. I asked the girl at the counter what was good to eat, and tried my best not to look like a nark. The guy standing beside her with two wandering eyes suggested some places as well, but I didn't try anywhere they told me about. I picked up some incense labeled "sensuous" and smelled it on my way out the door.

I walked to where the end of the street ran into the ocean. I sat and looked at the lights across the water. I do like city lights, and these were excellent ones. They don't come out so well in pictures, so it will just have to be my own memory.

It seemed extra dark when I first sat down but my eyes adjusted and soon I could see blue in the water. The waves were calm and small. They came and crashed in equal rows of three, never more, never less. They were so consistent; they looked like lace trim rather than something moving and alive. Every so often I could make out a figure or two walking on the sand, either lovers or homeless people, maybe both. I wished to be one or the other at that moment, at least then I would be something.

Then I saw two figures coming from the water with surfboards. It startled me, but not in a bad way. I had a sudden respect for the ocean, and reflected on its power. It had made these people invisible to me.

I drove back to the area where I am staying and ate at Mimi’s Café. It wasn’t crowded at all, so I felt comfortable. The atmosphere was a mishmash of Paris and New Orleans. There were Parisian references and Jazz memorabilia. I made my first attempt at the beads while I waited for my food. I’m sure I looked cute chasing them around the glass topped table, but it wasn’t very productive.

Saturday I went to Balboa Park. The building closest to where I parked was the Veterans Memorial Center and Museum. I took a look inside. It used to be a church. The pews were gone and artifacts were in place, and uniformed mannequins stood on the pulpit.

I took the trolley into the park, and had an insta-crush on the driver. He was a man probably in his 40’s with dark hair styled in the manner of nineteen-seventies Elvis. But, he completely pulled it off. His commentary as we rode to the park was witty; I laughed anyway.

I went to the Timken Museum of Art, where a few of Rembrandt’s Apostles were on display. I was so flustered at seeing the paintings right in front of my face that I forgot to take any pictures; another memory that will be just mine. I didn’t mind this activity by myself, I like to stand and stare and take my time. I wouldn’t have enjoyed having someone with me and feeling like I needed to hurry it along. Rembrandt. In front of my face. I soaked it in.

I learned quite a bit from the man explaining the paintings. My favorite thing he said was, “All apostles are disciples, but not all disciples are apostles.” It’s simple and probably something everyone else already knows, but I didn’t, and I liked the way he said it and the look on his face when he did.

I then went to the botanical garden housed in a huge wooden structure. I didn’t spend much time in there. I like the name of one plant though. I took a picture.

I rode around on the trolley a bit more to see the whole park. We went over a bridge that was strung up over the highway, and then almost into downtown. I walked over it later as it was getting dark. I felt high. Different from the Ikea high.

Before that I discovered the palm tree canyon. I can hardly describe how human I felt. That was another place I spent a lot of time. There was a very giant, spooky set of trees with what seemed like white roots living above the ground. The spaces they made were big enough to lie down in. I might have a nightmare about those trees.

There were lots of weddings or at least photography for weddings going on that day in the park. I saw one couple numerous times. In each pose they were kissing. I imagined that they must have been tired of it by then, but no, they looked very happy. To them, no one else was around. I hope I can be that in love someday. The bride is in one of the photos I took. It’s not obvious, but it’s appropriate.

I keep running into people with only one and a half arms. I’ve seen men and women, all ages, with one arm missing up to the elbow. I’ve never seen so many amputees. It’s starting to disturb me. Is it some sort of warning? If I were at a veteran’s day event or something similar I wouldn’t think it so out of the ordinary. I was in Sephora and decided to ask a girl crouched down at a drawer a question. When she stood up the side of her not facing me before revealed a nub at the elbow. I didn’t flinch, on the outside. I swear up and down and all around that I saw her a day or two later in a parking lot, walking with a guy. He had his arm around her, it seemed like they were on a date.