I paid $9 for a latte the other week.
It was a damn good latte, but not even a latte made to guarantee me good fortune (akin to Felix Felicis, perhaps?) and boundless energy should cost nine freaking dollars. C'est la vie à San Francisco, I guess!
Although I cringe each and every time rent is due still, I've started telling myself that a portion of the rent should be considered a "Bae Area charge" – the price that comes with having access to the vibrant culture and unique bars and restaurants that San Francisco has to offer, as well as to a number of mellower adventures throughout Northern California. It's been just the ticket to get me out and about this new year, exploring and discovering and poking my nose into various SF institutions.
SFMOMA // ever since the SF Museum of Modern Art re-opened in a new space a few months ago, literally everyone I know has made it a top priority to check the place out. One grey and drizzly morning in January, Hanna, Leah and I decided to visit. Amped up on soda with extra high sugar content, we perused the halls in an excited stupor – gazing at some of the stranger pieces completely flabbergasted, but truly impressed by others. Our favorite was by far Alexander Calder's mobiles. Accompanied by a masterful audio guide, we found the mobiles and the stories behind them to be completely mesmerizing.
Half Moon Bay // the following weekend, I had originally cajoled my roommate Susan into attempting a Napa daytrip, which she enthusiastically agreed to. But with an inordinate amount of traffic that day in addition to a rainy forecast, we decided to table those plans for another day. Instead, Susan suggested driving south to Half Moon Bay to grab coffee and donuts from the newly opened Dunkin Donuts and enjoying them on the coast. Done and done! Leah, Susan, and I sat on the rocks and watched, riveted, as the waves crashed ashore at high tide, wondering why the heck we don't visit the seaside more often.
Tahoe // not exactly in the Bay Area, but weekends in Lake Tahoe seems to be a widely accepted winter tradition for Northern California residents. Last weekend, we and about a trillion other people made the trek up to Tahoe to tumble around in the snow, hit the slopes (for everyone else), and get in some zen time (me). It made me laugh – as I hung out by the Starbucks fireplace in the ski lodge with a book, I overheard about half a dozen conversations around me about the same commute that I take, the same industry I work in, the same neighborhood I live in. Silicon Valley-ers are a predictable bunch, I say. More on Tahoe later this week!
Neighborhood-scoping // preparing ourselves for an impending move in the not-so-distant future, two of my roommates and I have been going to several apartment viewings and are generally scoping out potential neighborhoods to focus on. Trying out new-to-us restaurants in these neighborhoods has been a fun incentive, although my waistline has been like: girl, no. Stop.
Hanna and I have been making reservations on a whim like it's our sidehustle (can it be... please), and it's becoming a bit ridiculous calorically. But our tastebuds are so thrilled! From soothing ramen in the Mission, to an extraordinary southern dinner at Blue Plate for SF Restaurant Week, to no-frills burgers at a motel joint in Hayes Valley, to so much Peruvian food that we were in literal pain, to queso and quesadillas at a Mexican place in our very neighborhood*... it's been ridiculous, like I said.
*en route to this Mexican place, I fell down our stairs and consequently sprained my ankle and when Hanna was like ummm do you want to order takeout instead, I was like ....we're going to go get the frickin queso. Zero regrets.