Yesterday was Belle’s birthday. A lady never tells her age and I will not divulge Belle’s, but without losing an ounce of Puppy Enthusiasm, she now blends Soulful Maturity and Enduring Grace into her awesome mix of virtues.
Although not officially her party, last night was the opening bash for Acre, our neighborhood’s super-great, super-chic (yet friendly) store, where Belle’s first signing party will be next weekend
Somehow, I wasn’t quite expecting it to be so rocking an event, perhaps because parking is near impossible on Telegraph Hill. Nonetheless, it was mobbed with hipsters, including people spilling out on to the sidewalk.
I met many lovely humans, although it’s always odd not being part of an established group. Belle and I took refuge on the sofa in the back and people more or less came up to us (OK, came up to her) and we chatted away and handed out post card invites for the signing next Saturday.
Finished the night by going to Don Pistos where I ordered two hamburgeusas (best hamburger ever, marinated in bacon and onions and guacamole somehow involved) for myself and one for Belle. (I did not order her a margarita as I feel she’s still under-age.) It was so much fun to feed my little girl her burger on her special night, particularly since everyone at the restaurant now knows her and greets her by name (she is becoming the “Norm” of so many SF hangouts.) And as an aside, this may have been my swan song to red meat for months/years, but it was worth it to share burgers with the B’Girl on her night.
The only sadness was that Susan wasn’t there for most of the day since we drove her to the airport in the am to teach and transform the people of Canada. They need her, too, I guess — but thank God for the miracle of affordable texting.
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