Two Months Or One weekend

Countdown to 30 begins....This weekend was my first weekend in San Francisco (first one that counts anyway. I've been paying rent since April). In addition, my parents came into town, with another carload of my stuff.

Friday night after work, my parents picked me up. (It was awesome to not have to take the bus!) Instead of taking them somewhere local, local. We drove across the Golden Gate bridge past Sausalito (and Federated Media) and went to a great Taco-ria called Joe’s Taco in Mill Valley, CA. The décor is a riot. I had been there once before with Dan and a couple of friends. It was muy delicioso! I had the crab tacos and the corn on the cob (with Taco Magic powder) and then stole a couple of sips of my Mom’s Tortilla Soup (yum!). Unlike the previous time , this time there were a lot of kids with parents in the place—including a little girl who still had her ballet shoes on—straight from dance class. By the time we left, there was a huge line outside. That’s right, no reservations!

On Saturday, we went to an annual San Francisco event, the Union Street Festival. It was basically a street fair. I picked up a t-shirt, some sun-dried tomato balsamic vinagrette and a few posters. We also had more roasted corn on the cob (lime and chili butter) and some piping hot Philly Cheese steak sandwiches (of which my father after all my time in Philly, is only NOW a fan) and some Garlic Fries. Yeah, pretty sure I wouldn’t be kissing anyone after that meal.

The reason I had the Philly Cheese steak was because it was to fill in the missing piece of the puzzle. You see, the posters I got were these cool maps of the cities I’ve lived in since college and they had the areas compiled. (I have Manhattan, Chicago, Los Angeles and San Francisco). Did I mention I got a 20% discount after I told them the reason I was buying them was because I had lived in all those places in the last two years? And while they had Boston, they didn’t have Philly yet, so I had a Philly Cheese Steak to represent the city of Brotherly Love. Now the posters are lined up along my staircase, with SF at the top in Berkeley colors, so that I can use it as a reference guide and Manhattan greets me everyday when I walk through the door.

It was really cute, but it wasn’t as big as I thought it was. And I couldn’t help but compare it to the NYC street fairs, I used to frequent. In some ways it was very familiar. Vendor s and customers piled in the streets. People with dogs on leashes and scores of free “samples.” But the vibe was a completely different feel, I can’t really explain. It’s not that the people where nicer (some where, some weren’t). It’s not the wares weren’t kinda similar (jewelry, clothing, food and tchokeys). It was crowded and colorful and all your senses were going in six different directions at once. It was exciting and fun, but… it wasn’t NYC. And the more that I was there, the more I missed the Big Apple, because it just wasn’t the same.

On Sunday, I had a date with my Mom (and my Dad came too). I joined the other scores of women that weekend and went to see Sex & the City. Now I had read spoilers and I had read the negative reviews. So I entered with low expectations, and came out… pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t earth shatteringly cinematic history or anything, but it still had the “it” factor that Lipstick Jungle and Cashmere Mafia and all those other wannabes just couldn’t capture. The theater and possibly sympathetic audience clapped, laughed, cheered and sniffled it’s way through the movie (men too!). I had a good time. It was appointment tv in long form, and while the fashion plate collages and various product placement were everywhere, it was still a “coloring” good time. I was able to watch from a distance until the very last scene with the four girls. I actually started to get teary-eyed too. Not because of the storyline, but because that is genuinely what NYC meant to me. Just close friends around a table, good food, good drinks, good times. And as we all grow and change it’s nice to know there are still constants, and that your friends and the city will always embrace you (even as they sometimes kick you).

While I do believe that post-grad school is an appropriate time to start fresh, I also realized that the heartache I feel right now isn’t because I just miss NYC… it’s because New York City was the first city that loved me back. It was the first place that I choose with eyes wide open. It was the first long term affair I’ve ever had. It gave me the strength and courage to stand up for myself and helped me rebuild a completely shattered individual whose heart had been ripped in half and NYC helped me slowly piece myself together again. While I experienced some terrible, life altering events when I first arrived, NYC was the first place that I felt like I fit. Beyond the façade of glitz and glamour, beneath the film of dirt and grime, there is a beautiful metropolis full of life and opportunity. It’s where I took my first real breath. There is no place else on earth like it. And if you don’t love it as much, then there IS someplace else that you could be. For me, I’m not sure yet.

p.s.: In an effort to make me feel better, my mom took me to Loehmann's where I got to use my Birthday month discount. I got stuff, my mom got stuff and we got my dad stuff and we got 15% off. So, I have now been to the SF one too!