I have been in the San Francisco Bay Area for 6 years as of this past Saturday, if one counts from one week before the burn of 2001. That one trip to the desert was more than enough; I spent the majority of the week wracked with heatstroke and irritation. I couldn't stand how many of the people in my camp, particularly my boyfriend at the time, behaved towards me, other people, or generally. They were selfish and inconsiderate, petty and irresponsible, disloyal and mean. In the weeks, months, years since returning from the playa, I encountered more of this sort of behavior. And then there's been the backwards liberal politics, the flakiness, and the fun fur. At times I have wanted to leave, flee this place, go back to the east coast, or, in times of severe desperation, back to Los Angeles. Still, I couldn't do it--something kept me here waiting by the Bay.
But now, after six years here, after more heartbreak and disappointment than I thought possible in the city that I have always loved so much, even when it's frustrated me, I am so grateful to so many people here, so many people I never expected to meet, much less love. So many people who take me as I am and love me as I am, who understand loyalty and dedication, compassion and honesty. People who are family.
Thank you for making my Bay Area adventure worthwhile.