My personal little adventures have this tendency to go all wrong.

Last time, I headed out to Half Moon Bay. I was sick and under-dressed, and after arriving there, I realized that I had been there before. All in all, it was a pretty lame trip.

Yesterday, I headed out again, not really knowing where I was going, but inspired to have a last look at the great city of San Francisco. Incidentally, I chose the haziest day to go sight-seeing. I couldn't see crap! I went to the Golden Gate Bridge Vista Point, and I saw a bunch of tourists looking out into the vast nothingness. Hahaha...

Having no clue where to go, I headed out to Stinson Beach, driving through the John Muir Woods. (I was pretty familiar with this area because once, a couple of us drove around the woods at night trying to scare ourselves. Lame, aren't we?)

If the general San Francisco area was hazy, Stinson Beach was just plain foggy. I took a little stroll on the beach, and I seriously didn't know where I was. I felt like I was in some strange dream. I looked at the sky and I saw the moon, barely shining through all the fog. Only it wasn't the moon... It was the sun... Ah, the mysterious fog... Confusing me to the point where I didn't even know whether it was day or night... Hahaha...

Lastly, I visited the Palace of Fine Arts. I thought to myself, "San Francisco is such a great place." I was sad that in my time here, I had only scratched the surface... I thought about what could have been... San Francisco and I could have danced, and it would have been beautiful...

Today, in a matter of hours, I am taking what could possibly be my last trip to Tahoe. It should be a lot of fun, and I'm pretty excited. What could go wrong?

Here's to my last few days!