cari leaves the city

If the city has taught you anything, it's that the cutest old man you ever met is sitting next to you on the bus--the one in the checkered newsboy cap, dressed like he lives in the Olde World. (This is, sir, San Francisco, and it is, sir, 2008, didn't you know?) He carries Quaker Oats and a loaf of bread, groceries for the week, and his wavering head is nearly resting on your shoulder; he is so tired.

If the city has given you anything, it's a friendship with the mingling smells of sweet wisteria, trash, and alcohol. And now you spot the fog as it descends like a living thing; now you sleep well at night for all the steps taken on concrete by your tired feet.

If the city has taught you anything, it's that Hippie Hill is not a peaceful place, but you love it all the same: for the beat of drum circles, for the sweet smell of marijuana, for the unwashed camaraderie. And you know now, from all those walks and runs through Golden Gate Park, that watching the Eucalyptus light as the sun sets is one of your most favorite things.

If the city has shown you anything, it's that there are beautiful, powerful, incredible women like Ms. Rusty Springer, and that you can be one, too.

If the city has taught you anything, it's taught you to look each day in the face, to embrace it and love it for all its grief and rejoicing, its sadness and dancing. If the city has taught you anything, it has taught you that life is anything but mundane.

You leave the city firm in these baby beliefs. If you know anything, you know life is heartbreaking, but beautiful; you know the days are to be celebrated as they are.