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“Guess where we’re going,” my boyfriend said. It was news to me we were going anywhere. He had this weird, telling smile and it made me think we were going to the mountains. Where else could we possibly go? He said it

Ahhh, a weekend in the mountains. Dark skies we might actually see stars in. Waking up to birds singing rather than blaring sirens and the pounds of another luxury construction going up on our block. Opening the windows and smelling trees and dew. Hiking. Maybe a campfire. Maybe kayaking. I didn’t share any of this because I didn’t want to spoil his fun at surprising me. The longer he kept me guessing, the more I populated a weekend away from the city doing things I’d rather be doing every day. I wondered if the cabin’s owners would mind if I start a garden. Build a bird house. Harvest the garden. Move in.

Then we watched, So I Married an Ax Murderer, and he started dropping super subtle hints like “Don’t you want to go there?” and “Wouldn’t it be fun to walk the Golden Gate Bridge.”

Okay. Drastic change of plans in possibly more ways than one.

It took a short while for me to flush out the weekend in the Catskills I was already enjoying in my mind, but at last MoonPie and I are on the same page. When he says “pack layers” I know it’s for walking over the bridge, riding the ferry and seeing those giant redwood trees. I’m very excited to run in San Francisco and hoping for lots of chilly fog the whole time we’re there. I love fog. Fog makes me happier than snow. If it’s foggy I will skip up those hills.

We leave in a few weeks. That’s plenty of time to enjoy the anticipation and watch some more movies set San Francisco. Vertigo, The Graduate and Woody Allen’s Play It Again, Sam are next up. I’ve read some mediocre books set in the city, but would love to find a really great one. Any recommendations?