Five Quick Snaps: Birthday Sparklers, SF Giants, and a Rooftop

Harlot SF, Harlot birthday

Last Saturday, I realized a life goal. Ok, more of a “this would be super amazing if it actually happened, but it probably won’t, and life will go on” sort of thing. I first ventured to Harlot in the fall of 2010, just after Jim and I moved here and were absolutely penniless. Through a friend of a friend and an interesting series of events, we would up quasi-crashing a stunning loft birthday party in SOMA, a neighborhood that was unknown to me until that evening. After staring out the glittering windows for what seemed like the entire evening, the crew moved on to Harlot and my first San Francisco club experience. Burlesque dancers gyrated in ever corner, beautiful women in sequins draped themselves over the bottle service couches, and the air lit up with the giant sparklers that accompanied every bottle of champagne or liquor that a table ordered. It was glamour on acid, and I was obsessed.

Since then, the sparkler experience stuck in the back of my mind as a fluffy life goal and a guilty pleasure aspiration (akin to how I secretly hope to visit all the bars and brunch places that would have appeared in a SF version of Sex and the City). Although my income has yet to reach bottle service-like proportions, a sweet coworker arranged a birthday surprise for me when I visited the club with friends. Sparklers came at our table from every angle, and I felt like I was in a strangely delicious mashup of Gossip Girl and The Princess Diaries. It was one for the ages, and I’ll never forget it.

SF Giants, ATT Park, Go Giants

I may be proud of my fashion evolution since those army drab days in middle school, but I’m even more proud of how much I’ve grown to love baseball over the past few years. And there’s nothing like a pair of Poseys at the ballpark to raise your Giants spirit!

T minus eight hours until Game 6. Let’s do this. #OrangeOctober

The Battery SF, The Battery

We all know how much I love rooftops and how San Francisco is stubbornly empty of them. Even though it’s not an everyday occurrence, the penthouse at The Battery is perfection, and I was so stoked to get to journey up there for a recent 7×7 event. Even Karl the Fog stayed at bay during the party. Sure was nice of you, K the F.

San Francisco, SF fall, SF

In this snap, I feel like SF was saying, “See, Sarah? We may not have cold weather or pretty leaves like Minnesota, but we still have fall light.” And how.

Keith Haring, Keith Haring 7x7, pies for fall

I love when our editors do a story on the best pies of the city. In the span of a single week, we had over two dozen beauties delivered to our office. #journalismishard

I would also be remiss to put up this rare post without acknowledging the birthday of a certain handsomely bearded husband of mine. Love 🙂

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Five Quick Snaps

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Really, Sarah? Really? Another photo of AT&T park at dusk?

I think this stadium may be my new Golden Gate Bridge 🙂 I seriously can’t get enough of the view beyond the stadium walls. Regardless of how the Giants are doing this year (whatever, I don’t want to talk about it), games are always a pleasure. Tofu hot dogs and twinkling Bay Bridge lights- what more could a San Francisco girl ask for?

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Just as I clearly have a thing for plaid (and sequins, and guinea pigs, and elephants, and..), I clearly have a thing for bright pink lips. Other than my wallet and phone, this was the entire contents of my teeny cross-body bag I always wear.
I may need an intervention.

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You know you’ve found a good group of guy friends when they not only voluntarily shop with you, but they also buy about ten times the amount of clothing you do.

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Because let’s be honest. We know how saloons go.

I hope everyone is having a great week so far! This evening, I’m finally about to come up for air and edit/get ready to post the six rounds of outfit photos we’ve taken over the past two weeks. Woohoo!

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If Edgar Allan Poe Were a Cowboy…

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Fortunately I’m talking about the bar, not my outfit (although hey, never say never). Bloodhound in SOMA is the kind of bar where the drinks are strong, the mason jars are full, and the crows than hang from the ceiling are only slightly creepy. Basically, it’s the kind of place where a girl feels comfortable tying up the tails of her flannel shirt and watching the world go by.

For the first year of San Francisco life, I was a bit intimidated by SOMA. No, if I’m being honest, I straight-up avoided it like I avoid steakhouses and the annual tarantula festival down the coast. The flat storefronts and industrial feel reminded me of Gotham City- the version before Batman did his thing. After a year of total avoidance, I’ve admitted that if there’s a fashion show happening or awesome new dance club opening, it’s probably in SOMA.

SOMA feels different than any other part of San Francisco, but that’s what keeps it unique. It’s one of the fastest-growing areas of San Francisco and teems with a sense of change. There’s a life and a vibrancy to the neighborhood that feels like it’s on a different frequency than the rest of the city. It’s a little unfamiliar, it’s a little alienating, but hopping on the bus and getting out in SOMA feels like I somehow landed in an entirely different city.

SOMA and I may have had an awkward first date, but sometimes the best relationships get off to a bumpy start.

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