I love it when the weather in SF jumps up to 65 degrees and everyone rips off their clothes and runs through the dog-poop-covered parks showing our pasty-white skin.
Just the way I loved it when we lived in Arizona and the temperature would drop to 65 degrees and everyone would pull out their wool sweaters and ski caps and build a fire in the fireplace.
Today is one of those 65 degree-get-naked days. So I took a walk to the end of my street. This is where my street ends:
This is super cool except for the fact that Great White Sharks live about a mile from my front door. And that freaks me out because I saw the movie Jaws when I was way too young and it messed me up. So I try not to think about it. Instead I just focus on the benefits of living on a street that dead ends at the end of the continent. Also weird.