|Mom and me in Union Square.|
I'll admit, I always got a bit of a buzz coming into the city on the days I worked in the office. I would ride the BART in with the rest of the commuters, reading the paper, checking my email. I would stop each morning at the bagel place and stand in line with the suits and the trendy twenty somethings waiting for my coffee and toasted everything-bagel thin with cream cheese. I would walk nearly a mile down Battery Street, passing by competing agencies and just feeling...the possibility that a big city brings.
Of course we didn't live in the city. No, Oakland was home. With three kids a dog and an income which did not allow for a $1.5 million dollar home, the city was not an option. We kicked ourselves. Why hadn't we done this years ago, before the kids, when we could have lived in a funky apartment in the Mission and gone out every night? If only...
That isn't to say that I never went out in San Francisco. With some regularity I met a girlfriend for dinner in the financial district. We dined at Barbacco and the Tadich Grill, drinking generous pours of Pinot Nior and making a dinner of fancy small plates. I went for occasional happy hours and lunches with co-workers, and when my parents came we went to Union Square.
This week I wanted nothing more than to experience the buzz of Union Square. The tourists, the bright lights, the panhandlers... the heart of that city. It's where I met Alan Young (you can read about him here), had some amazing dinners and drank cocktails with my parents while taking in the view. I felt myself thinking I wish I was there. Right. Now. Okay, and maybe there is a part of me wishing that I was also 28 in San Francisco. I have this fantasy of dressing up, and spending the entire night exploring the city and all that it has to offer.
That isn't to say I'm not happy in Denver. I am. It's home. I'm not sure I was cut out for big-city life, but this week, I felt the pull of San Francisco calling.