I’m a born and bred East Bay Girl and as such it’s my birthright to love San Francisco with wild irrational devotion. San Francisco is the city of my Christmas Eves, my Senior ball and countless other special occasions. But I have a confession. Sometimes I hate San Francisco.
I know, I know. But sometimes I do!. I hate the friggin traffic. I hate how it’s always so unpredictably cold. You end up freezing or dragging your jacket all over the city. I hate the bridge tolls and the high rents. And most of all, I hate people who live in SF and their haughty attitudes towards Sacramento. I especially feel annoyed by people like that who aren’t even native to the Bay Area. People who bossily roll their eyes when say I say I’m from Sac and I have to be like, uh, step off, don’t make me pull out my “I’m hella native” card. So I wasn’t very excited to go there last weekend. Arnold had a conference and he wanted me to accompany him. I was VERY grumpy about it.
But last weekend, something magic happened. I fell back in love.
Left to my own devices without a conference/event/social obligation I wandered down to the Embarcadero and sat at the Ferry Building to watch the seagulls prance in front of the Bay Bridge. I ate ridiculous almost of pastries and considered the wisdom of eating a hot dog at 9 am. I enjoyed the freakishly good weather and walked, and walked, and walked. When I got bored, I wandered over to the MOMA and checked out the Avedon exhibit, you know, just cause. I sat in Yerba Buena Gardens and contemplated the skyline. And most of all I enjoyed being by myself and a walking tour of my childhood memories. The Chilean consulate. The Ferry Building where I’d walk with my Grandma. The MOMA with my Aunt. The Galleria where our Senior Prom was held and how my family would come to Union Square every Christmas to see the tree.
So this is my public apology. I’m sorry San Francisco,. While I’ve wandered near and far letting other cities into my heart. You will always be the first city I ever loved.