Plaidophile

While flying over Seattle, I couldn't help but notice how after living there for two years I recognized dozens of landmarks around the city which had various special meanings to me — places friends and I had lived, worked, and hung out, bridges I'd gone over, and so on. I thought about how it's strange how after the same amount of time in San Francisco I still didn't really know San Francisco very well and felt no such attachment to the city, after a week of talking about how much I missed Seattle and thinking of ways I could end up moving back there eventually. I felt intensely homesick and even considered "accidentally" missing my connecting flight.

But then I got back to San Francisco, and the smell was familiar and comforting, and I got on BART and the smell was familiar and (oddly) comforting. While on BART home from the airport, a woman was having trouble reading her tourist map and figuring out which BART station to get off at for her hotel. I asked where it was and she pointed to a station on her street map (which didn't label the stations), and I immediately told her, "Oh, yeah, that's Powell. I'm pretty familiar with that part of town."

Then I realized that this place is somewhere I know after all.

(now I have Red Hot Chili Peppers stuck in my head DAMNIT)