Today I ditched my 10 am Farsi class and my Econ section in favor of returning to MacWorld to work on a story. As I went and walked from Market St. to 2nd/Bryant, I had a relapse of a feeling that I had last night — how great of a city San Francisco truly is. It’s probably one of my favorite cities, and I barely know it. Only recently, since I’ve had to make regular trips have I come to appreciate it. SF has history, it has streetcars, it has a vibrant gay/Italian/French/Chinese/Japanese/Vietnamese/Indian/techie/liberal community all compacted into one hilly town. It has bridges, parks, cable cars, windy streets, porn theatres near great bookstores, and a gorgeous baseball stadium. You can go on a taco crawl and end at Mitchell’s. You can take public transport and get nearly anywhere you want to go and connect with regional transport on the other end. You can BART in, take the streetcar around to Pier 39, get some clam chowder, and cable car back in over the hill through Chinatown, watching the frogs and the turtles and the crowds and the mercantile yelling as you get smacked by the tourist whackers. How cool it would be to live in San Francisco one day.
Romanticism aside, I bought my plane ticket to Hartford last night, which is where I will spent most of my Spring Break, visiting my cousin and aunt. Aunt Heidi told me that we’d get at least one trip into NYC, which I’m sure will be much cooler than when I was 13 (the only time I’ve been).
I’m so ready to get outta school. Time to hit the thesis again. That’s all I do when I have a free couple hours anymore, but it’s good for me.
