And Where Would That Be Anyway?

Some of you might recall one of my favorite posts on the topic of home (not the band Home, did I ever make a post about them?), so maybe you'll giggle at me when I confess that this past weekend I was brushing my teeth in the apartment where I currently reside when I caught myself thinking, "I wish I could go home."

Oh, god, how I wish I could go home.

I just really have to buckle down and figure out where home is, first, so that I can then proceed to go there.

Now I have to decide which of my two ongoing lists I want to share with you all. Maybe both?

One list is short, it's the list of stuff I desperately miss having in my life.
(I don't use the word "desperately" lightly. I'm desperate over here, people.)

The other list gets longer every day.
It's the list of things I hate about San Francisco.

My hesitation to share has four main elements:
1 - My certainty that sharing will cause Keith will send me a terse email that says "I read your blog Sis. You sound sad as hell. Cheer the eff up."
2 - My ongoing fear that people I love will waste time worrying about me. Please, if you love me, never worry about me b/c that just stresses me out.
3 - The seeming inability of people (not you, of course) to realize that the fact that I hate a million things about SF doesn't preclude the possibility that there are also several, or possibly even many*, things that I actually quite like about it.
4 - The tendency of San Franciscans to stop listening and start insulting me the second they suspect that I might be about to imply that this is not the most wonderful and perfect place in all of known existence.**


*I stole that joke from the dude I went on a date with last night. I also let him pay the tab, which is actually kind of major for me.

** Point 4 of my hesitation to share list is actually also Entry 1 in my Things I Hate about San Francisco list. Stay tuned for it, I can almost guarantee that it will cause you to either laugh or worry or ask me if I'm sad or raise your voice at me about how wrong I am about everything that ever was or ever will be. (Appropriate responses included laughing, contributing, or sending me flowers.)