Frame: You Can’t Always Get What You Want

1554 Greenwich Street

 When I lived in San Francisco, the weather enraged me. I couldn’t stand that it was the same thing, every day: misty morning, cool and sunny mid afternoon, temperate evening.  Every day. I could wear flip flops in the dead of winter in that town, and even though I love my flips, that’s just not natural.  I missed the northeast seasons, the weather, the physical acknowledgement that some days are good and some days are bad. But this week, I miss San Francisco. 

dogpile on yet another temperate afternoon in our backyard

For the past few days, Boston has been reminding us that she is in charge- not the tides, or the moon, or whatever forces the days to get cooler and the nights to get longer. Boston is laughing in the face of anyone who has already stashed their air conditioner and pulled out their sweaters. She has turned the temperature up to just below boiling, one last time, and added a level of humidity only she can pull off. The only relief has been gale-force winds, and now, the rain. I miss San Francisco. 

This morning, after a particularly grueling week (that just. won’t. end.), my Vega Sport has disappeared from the office, and coffee isn’t cutting it.  Right this second, not only do I miss the carefree days of bloody marys at Betelnut, ceviche at Fresca,  a job I didn’t care about, and never- ending flip flops, I miss Hefeweizen, the drink of choice in SF.