I'm in one of my happy places.  I managed to navigate my way from the airport to the BART, and from the BART to my hotel.  I've made this route once before, but I was with another girl who had herself at that point done it once before.  This time it was solo.  And once again I'm thanking God for my iPhone (without a doubt the best purchase I've made this year... okay, it's tied).  Between that and my ability to ask strangers without any shame, I've been having a grand time already.  I'll probably wait to tell you all the places until Monday or Tuesday, as to avoid worrying my family about stalkers who might see this post, create a grid of all the places I've been, and cast a net!

No, but really, I won't tease too much, because I am being very careful.  Last night I made sure to be in my hotel before dark.  Not much of a punishment since I'd only had 3 hours of sleep the night before.  I crashed by 9:30, and slept for a near 12 hours.  It was blissful, minus the slamming of the doors on my floor (not sure what was going on).

I wandered shops yesterday, and asked a saleswoman for a good lunch spot recommendation.  She sent me to a back area that's adorable, and just a few blocks off from the tourist mayhem.  I ended up stopping early and eating at another place I passed.  Later, I returned to where she'd sent me and enjoyed an amazing mocha (one of the best I've ever had), and sat for a few hours at a window and read and wrote and thought.  After, I crossed the street and found an Italian restaurant.  It was perfect!! In fact, I teared up.  Ridiculous, I know, but I did.  The five hours I spent between that coffee shop and restaurant were exact;y why I'm here.  To explore, to find and to know I'm being led.  I love finding new places, I love sitting alone at a fancy restaurant for dinner and drinking a glass of wine.  I love being adventurous and courageous and confident.  I love having time to just listen, watch, and be.  And on top of all of that - I love Italy and the Italian language (you know this).  So when the owners started filling in and the empty room was filling with that beloved language and tones and embraces, I felt overwhelmed by the perfectness of the details.  I was the first person there.  When I walked in I asked I felt a little out of place, as if I were intruding.  I asked "Are you open?"  A silly thing to ask at a restaurant that seemed a bit posh.  It appeared posh, but it was so open, you could look into the kitchen, and with all the warmth of the staff and closeness between the owners and staff, it didn't feel stuffy.  They responded "Yes, come in. Sit down. "  I responded "Just one, for dinner."  And they asked if I'd like to sit at the bar, as it was still happy hour.  The bar was truly just a long table along the "bar" in the one open room.  Down stairs there is another room with one long table that seats twenty and a stalk pile of wines, olive oil, vinegar and other Italian-imported ingredients. It looks just like a basement or wine cellar, and feels like an Italian living room.  It was amazing, and the bartender was great.  She ended up giving me lists of places to visit and suggestions for other restaurants.  Today, I am heading over to see the hipsters, and between her and Esther, I am set!

My room. TINY, with a little desk, bed, TV and lace covered window.  All I need. :)