…make and carry stencils.
Seriously.
To make zines! (Granted, that doesn’t take much. The only thing I lack these days is time.)
To live in a beautiful cake.
…to live in a freaking work of art.
Dude.
…to make silly bullshit, make a bunch of copies, and post them everywhere.
…to eat cereal.
…to own a big rainbow staircase. In pretty much any context. I can live under it like Harry Potter, I don’t care.
…to lay in the grass and talk for a while. (No, not to dance. I am not shy about dancing, not even a little, but San Francisco and I diverge in that I do not do it in the full daylight in a park. No.)
…to think about Bourbon Street.
…to drink cocktails made to be paired with Girl Scout cookies. One of the only regrets of my trip is that I’d already reached my booze threshold for the evening by the time we passed The Alembic. (That I reached it by splitting a couple wee pitchers of sangria at Cha Cha Cha makes it almost worth it. Almost.)
And also:
- To drink more awesome beer. That’s a greater quantity of awesome beer, I mean – not beer of increased awesomeness. I’ve got that down. But San Francisco? Also has their beer game nailed.
- To get a job that pays a lot more than I make now (ah, the life of a writer)
- To be a character in Tales of the City, which I surely need to go back and finish reading
This was my fourth or fifth time going to San Francisco, and for some reason, it hit me so much closer to the heart this time. Now I get to figure out what to make of that.
