Street scene in my San Isidro neighborhood.So, I was walking down the street, passport and dollars in hand (not literally, the dollars were in my pocket and the passport in my purse) to the bank to pay my rent. It was a lovely, unseasonably warm fall day, and I was enjoying people-watching on the way there. As I crossed the street to the bank, a man called out of his car, "Do you know where Chacabuco Street is?" It just so happened that I had passed said Chacabuco a block earlier, and noticed it because upon seeing the sign I thought of Grosse Pointe Blank. You remember the scene:
Debi: You know what you need?
Marty: What?
Debi: Shakabuku.
Marty: You wanna tell me what that means?
Debi: It's a swift, spiritual kick to the head that alters your reality forever.
Marty: Oh, that'd be good. I think.
So I was smiling to myself about that. I gave the man directions and was pretty excited to have known something useful, when I got up to the bank door and it was closed. Monday through Friday 1000 - 1500. It was 1530. I'd always come earlier, and just hadn't noticed. Oh, well, at least I got in over 4000 steps (Erin gave me a pedometer). Also, taking a different way home, I found a store that sells yogurt without sugar or artificial sweetener. Yes!
These are my friend John's feet. While I was looking for the first picture, I found this one. I left my camera at his house after visiting him and his wife Niki back in January. During the 5 minutes it took Teri and me to drive back to their house he took this photo, along with pictures of his light switches and his (clothed) tush.
