"Angry Little Girls"

Jer and I were wandering through Japan Center in San Francisco when we came across a comic called "Angry Little Girls!," which I loved instantly. One store sold little coin purses that said, "D is for Disenchanted," and I just checked the online store and found a wallet that says, "I can't live without you." "Then why aren't you dead yet?"

Nice.

Earlier when I was trying to return focus on what passes for important these days, I wrote:

One of the scariest things to do on vacation is to get yourself lost. Wander somewhere new and find your way back again. In a parking structure after seeing "Watchmen," we opened a series of unlabeled doors in an attempt to find our car. To open those doors and not know what's on the other side, that is something. And who needs all those doors that don't go anywhere? Why was the one we really needed locked, making it necessary to be led through a nearly defunct Circuit City by an employee who could see the end; it was in sight. Boxes of fake guitar accessories from Guitar Hero stacked against a wall, neoprene Nano arm bands, slashed down 80%. Fixtures for sale.

I might love San Francisco if the parking weren't so terrible, but I could never forgive a city that pretended cars were optional. Yes, buses are fine, but SF, your public transit is limited. BART only goes so far and runs so often. You make me miss Tokyo and its cool efficiency of concrete and steel.

...

I fell asleep at 8pm and woke again at 11pm. I don't know where sleep went but if you see him, tell him I'm looking for him. We have unfinished business.