Goodbye, San Francisco

We're moving from San Francisco to Boston in one week.

Knowing how many days I have left in the place I’ve spent the last 9 years is sad.

Finality sucks. Change sucks.

This city leads the league in views. Yes, there’s a homeless man on my block who’s permanently scarred my memory bank with his activities (and he’s not the first to do so), but I get to walk my dogs up Russian Hill every morning and see the Golden Gate Bridge.

When my phone can’t connect to the speakers in my car, I can rely on 102.1 to play friggin jams.

The city may be expensive, but you can have the time of your life hanging at one of the many picturesque parks or breathtaking beaches for free.

I made friends with real locals from Santa Rosa to Piedmont to Oakland and San Francisco who don’t root for Boston sports teams. I know these friendships will last for a lifetime.

But I have to go home.

At my wedding, my aunt gave a speech about how much I loved places. I thought she could’ve picked a few cooler attributes of mine, but it was also something that I didn’t know about myself.

Apparently I’m a big Place guy. If I go to a Place that’s really special and I’m with special people, I try to hold that memory in my head forever.

The Bay Area will always hold a special place. Monaghans with Steve and the boys, filming in the Presidio with Ross, Win, Matt, Milo, Rebecca, and Natalie, looking at the skyline from Dolores Park while an alien of a human being makes me a coke & rum with a real coconut and a machete... are all irreplaceable experiences.

9 years ago I came to California to see a palm tree in person and prove to myself that I could do life on my own.

Now it’s time to go home so I can scream obscenities at Fenway Park and run on Dunkin once again.

Also to be with family and make a family. All exciting things.

And yet even when you’re returning to something familiar, change is still scary and sad. I don't know what this next chapter will bring.

But hey, that’s showbiz baby!