I've lived in San Diego nearly as long as I lived in San Francisco. What's interesting (to me, at least), is that those four years in SF seemed to encompass more change and development than my four years in SD. I moved to SF with two suitcases, some ambien and my best friend. That's all I needed and all I cared about. Now, I have two dogs, a cat and a fish, as well as an insane amount of books and framed pictures all of which are horribly important to me but also seem to weigh me down. I miss being more portable, more compact. I guess that's part of growing up; the inability to leave without a second thought. And, honestly, I miss that. I miss being able to make a whimsical decision and no one being able to say a whole lot about it (parental units excluded. They ALWAYS having something to say). But, I look back on my years in SF, and while trying and definitely not always perfect (or even close), I remember loving the opportunity. To do anything. To see a band I wouldn't otherwise. To see a Monster Truck Rally. Visit a cheese shop in Marin. Ride shopping carts around Pacific Heights. Walk up to the cathedral at midnight to drink on the steps just because I can. To LIVE. And, I'm sure it's more me than my city, but I don't have that anymore. I miss doing something just to do it; and that has been a large aspect of my personality for a very long time. Maybe I just need a new partner in crime, I dunno. Maybe it's me -- entirely possible. All I know is that I need to have more "me" back in my life. Easier said than done, oddly enough.