Hic Est Sonja.

In case you didn't spend 5 beautiful years of your adolescence studying Latin, the title of this post means "Here is Sonja." Fitting. Because I am here. 


What's that? You're wondering where I am? Why, I'm in San Francisco, you nerd! As of 5 days ago, I am a newly minted, fresh-off-the-plane California resident. It's been an unbelievable whirlwind of packing, giving things away (Calphalon pans, you live in my heart), and a very special, very intense brand of anxiety reserved for cross-country moves, triple-bypass surgery, and watching high school kids forget their lines onstage. I actually gave myself psychosomatic heart pains.

Did you know...that a smarte carte costs $5 at SFO?

But I finally made it! The first few days in a brand new city are absolutely magical. Even the street names have a special ring to them. Fillmore, Vallejo, Geary, Mission, Embarcadero....so charming! 


I don't know what it is about street names that just gets me. I remember my first few days in Chicago, being completely enchanted with names like Clark, Lake, Monroe & Dearborn...A great street name has personality, imagery, and can communicate so much about a city. (And sometimes, if you have the sense of humor of an 11 year old boy, street names can be hilarious. Here's lookin' at you, Avenida Maipú!)


My dear friends, I hope you will not hate me too much when I show you pictures of my new neighborhood. And Foes....you can suck it. This is my backyard.

That's right suckaaaaaz! I live in a national park. This means several things.

1. The air smells like Eucalyptus.
2. I am surrounded by the most perfect grass in the universe. It is cushy, lush, green.....it would humiliate Philadelphia grass. We're talking Retirement-Community-Level grass. This grass is not kidding around.
3. This is federal land so....NO MARIJUANA ALLOWED. Also no pedophiles! (...silver lining.)
4. I frequent the same Starbucks as all the employees of Lucasfilms. I get to add a little pizzazz to my mornings when I convince myself that every old man with white hair and a latte is George Lucas.
5. I can see Alcatraz from my backyard, and I get a sweet view of the Golden Gate Bridge every morning on my way to the bus.

I mean...it's really just beyond description. 

Well that's all for now. A girl must leave something to the imagination, non? I will continue to document my adventures on this blog, don't you worry. 

Adios muchachos! As my father would say...¡vaya con huevos!