A job offer, a photo shoot and a broken nail.

First thing today, leaving the hostel, a man got out his car, walked into a bar and walked back out again to ask if I could dance. Em, well you could say that. Before I could answer he said if I danced as good as I looked I had a job. Where? At his bar, the "adult entertainment" venue across from the hostel. Thanks but I think I'll pass. A nice start to the day though and I might need a few extra bob at some point.

After that I took the bus down to Haight-Ashbury where all the arty-farty crowd do their shopping. I was on the hunt for CDs for Alasdair, ones that were difficult to find in the UK and just a general nosey for myself. First stop was Amoeba records, an emporium of new and used records on every format and in every genre. I was in there an hour and I only scratched the surface of the electro section.

When I came out a girl approached me and asked if she could take my photo for a new style mag called Look (original name, eh). So of course I obliged and gave her a twirl in my long frock. She has my email address and has promised to forward a copy of the pic but she seemed a bit ditsy so I'm not holding my breath. She asked me for a little quote about myself and I managed to get FireBox in so if there's a huge surge in hits from California I'll know I've been published.

With practically every shop I went into I received more compliments. One of the things I really like about here is that people are open and willing to hand out compliments. If they like something you're wearing they don't keep it to themselves, they'll make sure you know. Many a time in Glasgow I've seen someone walking down the street and thought their hair was nice, they had great shoes or a lovely dress and not said anything. People here have no such qualms.

Wonder if I'll get charged excess baggage for my newly inflated ego?

Haight-Ashbury had some nice shops but a lot of smelly vintage stuff too. I don't care what people say about vintage stuff being clean but it still smells. So I started to walk back along Haight Street towards the Downtown area. On the way back whilst rummaging in my back for my little fold up map I broke a nail. This wouldn't normally be blog-worthy but this was a cracker. A few weeks ago I was chopping up some chorizo for paella when it slipped and I sliced my finger (left hand, middle) and into my nail partially cutting it in two. I'd been managing to keep the broken piece intact hoping that if I kept filing it down it would grow out. Today put paid to that. My nail is now half the nail it used to be and the nail bed is painful to the touch. I'm torn between keeping it under a plaster to stop it getting infected and trying to get air about it to help it grow. The plaster is currently winning.

Just before coming back to the hostel for a (free) dinner of pasta pesto and salad I stopped by a little Italian cafe where the compliments were flowing thick and fast. I was feeling very pleased with myself and swished out the door slap bang into a crowd of angry teenagers, one of whom took an instant dislike to my swooshing and decided to have a go. Apparently I'm vacant, judgemental and empty and am only concerned with dying my hair blonde and keeping my tan looking good just like all those other LA bimbos and I should go back to where I came from.

You'll be pleased to hear that I did take the time to point out that my hair's not dyed, I've worked hard on my tan and I like it, I'm not from LA, it's bad vocabulary to use vacant and empty in the same sentence and it certainly wasn't ME being judgmental.

Hmmf.

During dinner I met one of my new dorm buddies, Claire. She's a media student from Edinburgh and has spent the last 6 months in Melbourne as part of her course. This is her making a few stops on her way home. She had a ticket to see Minnie Driver who is apparently now a singer/songwriter. Really? Does the world need another actress turned muso? Anyway, I agreed to go since it was a nice offer and it would be nice to hang out with someone for a while so we headed down Market St to Cafe du Nord. Sold out. Bummer. Claire went in and I went home. Probably for the best as I'd forgotten my ID and I don't think I could have retained any credibility at all after being at a Minnie gig.

Mon 13 Aug