San Francisco: the city of the diverse. Somewhere I belong. One of my dream spots. Last September when I was itching for an adventure and needed some change, I piled up enough dough to plop myself on a plane headed to the west coast. Sick of the fast-paced, I’m-better-than-you ways of the east coast (at least in New York), one of my brothers moved out there and landed himself quite the fantastical job (in San Fran, you’ll need that). So I figured, “Hey, I have a place to stay, now’s a great time to visit!” I stuffed some clothes in a bag, grabbed my boyfriend, flew through the air, and in a matter of hours, we were on the other side of the country. Our first vacation together.
We drenched ourselves in rosé, Pinot noir, chardonnay and the like in Sonoma in the mountains while playing Bocce, surrounded by breath-taking scenery; we went to a San Francisco Giants game (where a sea gull pooped on my head during the seventh inning); we took a ferry out to Angel Island and Alcatraz Read More