It’s nice to be back home

Every time I get back from San Francisco I am so grateful to not live there anymore.

Today was also a very long day. I woke up to a notification that my flight had been canceled, and I scrambled to get an alternate booking. As usual Alaska Airlines did a great job of getting me an alternate booking, but it’s unfortunate that they’ve been needing to do that so much lately. Also this time the booking agent didn’t seem to understand that no, I can’t actually get to the airport immediately for a flight which leaves in 75 minutes…

Thankfully I was able to get on a pair of flights which got me home at the same time as my original flight would have, by leaving 3 hours earlier and flying down to San Diego and then up to Seattle from there. (The next best alternative would have been going to Spokane and having an overnight layover.)

At the airport they were asking for volunteers to check carryon bags, which is an option I usually take, but after I explained to the gate agent that my flight to Seattle had been canceled and I was rerouted, he tagged my luggage with a final destination of San Diego and I said, no, I’m going to Seattle, and he said “This flight is going to San Diego,” and I said “Yes but I’m connecting to Seattle there.” And then he disappeared for 10 minutes, then came back, and still didn’t understand my connecting flight situation. So I gave up and hoped for the best. Thankfully there was barely enough in-flight overhead bin space for my roller bag.

Then I had a pretty tight connection, but fortunately the San Diego airport is pretty small, and the flight from SAN to SEA was also quite a lot larger and there was plenty of overhead bin space.

Anyway long story short a sub-3-hour flight turned into a 6-hour epic, and when I got home I decided the last thing I wanted was to spend an hour on the bus so I just took a Lyft home, and then Fiona yelled at me for an hour.

I’m exhausted and in pain and so very tired.

Also I find it a little… obnoxious, I guess, that folks who are in love with San Francisco insist that everyone should love San Francisco, and take it as a personal insult when there’s something I dislike about the city, but then at the same time they do nothing but complain about the things they dislike about Seattle and can’t understand why anyone would want to live here instead. And like, I get it, Seattle isn’t right for everyone, but it sure is right for me! Let me live where I want to live, dangit.

San Francisco is a hard city to be in if you have a mobility impairment, or if you like peace and quiet, or if you’re not a certain kind of queer on a very short list. I’m not into the hustle and bustle and moving fast and breaking things, I don’t gain energy from having to hike everywhere and navigate between crowds of non-stop street festivals or people hawking their wares at me constantly, I don’t want to have to wear earplugs so that I can sleep at night because of the noisy streets and acoustically-transparent windows.

San Francisco has a lot to offer, but it’s just too much for me.

I love being able to sit back and relax and sip on nice coffee (that’s brewed for the flavor, not for the caffeine) while listening to the rain.

I like that I can be present without having to be “on” all the time.

Seattle is definitely way more my speed.


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