Today was Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, a huge (and free) music festival in Golden Gate park, all courtesy of one Warren Hellman – a billionaire who love bluegrass music and a good party!
Between the reveling hipster gypsies, vagabond homeless youths, and crazy dreadlocked weirdos, we people-watched some pretty awesome folk. And braved the intense clouds of marijuana smoke to go grab some food.
Too bad my plate was barely edible. It was literally, barf on a plate. So gross. Some kind of tofu curry and potato masala stew over basmati rice. It was sour, sweet in all the worse ways, and completely disgusting.
But soon enough, we would be confronted by vendor after truck after stand of sweets sellers. Why God? Why!?
Cupcakes, gourmet mini donuts, funnel cakes, organic gelatos and handipped ice cream bars? I had to remind myself about a thousand times that one week of no refined sugar ain’t gonna kill anyone. But oh, it hurt. It hurt so bad.
Digression: While M and I were eating, I spotted someone behind him that almost had me falling out of my chair into the muddy grass. That human being, in the maroon fleece? We met her in Costa Rica. Seriously.
Her boyfriend, the guy in the black shirt behind her, was there too. And she was the most annoying, whiny, self-absorbed, incredibly irritating (and offensively ignorant) person I’ve ever met. Who also would not stop talking.
Thankfully we were only traveling with her for half a day. But of all the places in the world? She turned up in Golden Gate park, two feet away from M.
All in all, it was a great day. I love festivals and I love music. We even got to walk to my parents house (they live in the Sunset), nab a blanket, a bottle of wine and a huge bag of pistachios and trek back to the park.
P.S. Plus I saw a gopher.