G-Washington

This past May a few friends and I went and stayed with my sister in San Francisco to attend our first Bay to Breakers. What is Bay to Breakers, one may ask? Peep that ish from my usual internet resource, Urb Dictionary:

 A race/celebration that happens in the late spring in San Francisco that starts on the Bay side of the city and ends by the "breakers." The course takes you through the city, and directly through Golden Gate Park. Participants can run competitively, walk the course, or dress up in any ridiculous outfit, make an incredible float to drag along, and get drunk out of their mind. Most do the latter. Many participants enjoy walking in the nude, and the police don't seem to mind. It is certainly more of a party than a race.

It was a glorious shit show with hilarious people everywhere. One dude was dressed up as Steve Irwin and actively used his plastic snake prop to throw in front of hot chicks and then "kill it" to save the day. I appreciate his humor and wish this stranger was my friend. 

My friend P-dub was dressed up as George Washington and looking dapper as ever. With the Boston bombings happening recently (sad panda) the police were "cracking down" a bit this year. I had no problems, but a few humans weren't so lucky. Peep P-dub's run in with the cops:

Cop: Come with me sir 

     P-dub is mid flow pissing in a tree. He gets his ish together and faces the cops. 

Cop: Sir, can you tell us a bit about you? Your information?
P-dub: Well, I'm from Virginia, I'm one of the Founding Fathers, and I have wooden teeth...
Cop: All right jokester, no more monkey business, we're writing you a ticket for urinating in public. You're lucky we aren't giving you indecent exposure.
P-dub: Honestly, I can't blame you for writing me up considering I wrote these laws.
Staying in character? With two cops bombarding him with questions? Now that is seriously what's up. In regards to the Po-Pos that wrote him up, I have a few things to say. First of all, urination in public? At Bay to Breakers? All right San Francisco Police, there are naked dudes on every corner and girls with their juggs spilling all over the place, yet you're gonna tell good ol' G-Wash that he's lucky you're not "writing him up for indecent exposure"?....... uh.... that seems a little weird to me. Second, writing him up for indecent exposure could potentially put him on San Francisco's sexual predators list, which is not what we should be using that list for. This should only be used for actual predators, not some awesome dude who took a piss in a tree so the ladies could make use of the bathrooms and limit the annoying lines. Just sayin.

Naturally I pulled together this elfy fit for the race. I see any costume event as an opportunity to dress in some forest creature like way. If it was socially acceptable, I would dress with an elf-like swag at all times. Peep that ish:




Brandy Melville skirt
Flowers were added/pinned to the skirt and purchased at a rando craft store
Minnetonka moccs
Wilfred Free bralette
Vest is from Pakistan and handed down from my G-Ma
Ray Ban sunglasses
Purse is a gem I picked up in Koh Phangan, Thailand
Headband made by me

Biking Politics

Sometimes the smallest things give me a weird amount of anxiety. Do they do the same for you or am I a complete and total freak? Examples include:
  • Awkwardly walking parallel to another human, whether it be a stranger, coworker, etc. Remember that scene in Superbad? Where he walks really fast away from his crush so they aren't walking at the same time? Yeah that's what I try NOT to do but it's really hard because I just want to run away.
  • Getting honked at when I know I did something wrong. I usually try to flee the scene as soon as possible to get away from any driver who saw me make a mild mistake. 90% of the time this means I make a turn in the complete wrong direction. Dove does the same thing, so I know I'm not a total freak. 
  • Making coffee, because I never know how to use those effing machines.
  • Giving someone a ride home that I don't know very well because I have zero concept of direction and all I can think about the entire drive is if I'm going the right way.
  • Biking politics
Let's discuss my last anxiety kicker: bikers. Okay so, I was talking to a friend of mine the other day and he was telling me how when he passes bikers on the road, he tries to stay as close to them as possible. This was shocking to me because I do the complete opposite. He said he is a biker, and as a biker he feels cars and bikers are "sharing" the road and therefore cars can get "close to the biker" when passing them. But dude, what if I hit them? My fear of hitting them makes me scared to pass them unless I have an obscene amount of room, which usually means I have to take up part of the oncoming lane, and you catch my drift. So what the fuck man? What do I do?

For those of you living in Seattle, I get the WORST anxiety when I get stuck behind a biker in the arboretum. Fuck the arboretum for bikers. Honestly. I creepily follow them for a good ten minutes, and with each minute the hotter my face gets as the number of cars pile up behind me. This anxiety continues until the oncoming lane slows enough to allow me to break free. The euphoric relief I feel after passing a biker in the arboretum is comparable to a decent orgasm really bomb meal.

On the subject of driving, I've been on quite a few road trips lately, so it was only necessary that Dove and I stop at a few spots and snap some photes. We came across some sweet farmers markets and picked up some bomb fruit, but one can't go on a road trip without stuffing face with a burger or two as well.

Important to keep in mind for road trip apparel? Rep that comfy shit. It's been super hot outside, so I kept it simple and limited. Less is more, ya dig? Peep that ish:





Photos by Maddie Lucas aka Dove
Brandy Melville tank
Wilfred shorts
Vintage backpack
Olive & Pique hat
Minnetonka Moccasin kicks 

Yogi the Bear

Unfortunately, I'm not one who likes to work out. I like being active if it's something I enjoy doing. Such as water skiing, snowboarding, kickball, or something that is actually fun. Jogging? I've tried to pretend I like it but I simply do not. It is boring and I get tired. Hiking? If it's a good hike with scenery that is up to par, I'm definitely down. If not? Eff that ish I'm tired of walking. I get worried about my lack of activity, so I decided to attempt yoga. I mean it seems mellow and easy. You stretch and breathe, how hard could it be, right? Turns out it's pretty hard, but I'm flexible so I was decent for a beginner which made me feel pretty cool. But to be quite honest, I don't understand what all the fuss is about? I really don't like how people are like two inches from me in this sweaty room. It really grosses me out. And this "breathing" activity.......is it serious? Like...there are 40 of us in this small room, yet we think it's a good idea to stick our tongues out and exhale REALLY loudly. Still, I was willing to accept these negative aspects of yoga and try to fall in love with it like half of our nation. That was until I attended my most recent yoga sesh a few months ago of which scarred me for life. Not lying, this dude was exhaling so effing loudly, it was echoing the room. And to really top things off this yogi hippie fucking farts. He farts. I've heard this is accepted in the yogi classroom, but I just couldn't and can't accept it. Plus I swear this guy was proud of his wind blowing. Like ooo look at me! I am so relaxed and good at yoga I'm just going to let it all out! Not down.

Needless to say, Yoga isn't for me. For those who love it, I really envy you. It's super relaxing and I bet you have a bangin bod, but I think I'm going to just start playing the ukelele instead. Who cares if it doesn't involve physical activity, right? At least this hobby won't trap me in a room full of people breathing and farting on me.

On a separate note, Dove and I went to my family's cabin on south Puget Sound for the Fourth and took a day trip to Sand Dollar Beach for a sand dollar collecting extravaganza. Salt water sandals have been my summer sandal of choice the past few years, so I recommend you snag a pair, or three. They come in a bunch of colors, but I stayed true to our country and went with pairs of red, white, and blue. I wear white the most, so perhaps start your collection there. Peep that ish:
Photos by Maddie Lucas aka Dove 

Talula flannel
SAHA Swimwear top
Talula shorts
Saltwater Sandals
Left wrist bracelet made by me
Right wrist bracelets made by Dove can be found on her Etsy shop

Forever 24

A few months ago I was posted at a bar and spotted a hottie a couple tables away. As you know, hotties are scarce in Seattle, so this was def something I had to point out to Dove for confirmation that this human was in fact a true looker and I wasn't repping a pair of beer goggles.
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