As some of you know, I love San Francisco. I drove down to see SanFranMan 6 years ago. He wanted to meet me on the Oakland side of the Bay Bridge, and I would follow him home, so I wouldn't get lost. Instead, I drove straight to his house. Over the next few days, I drove everywhere, and never once got lost. I LOVED Bart. I LOVED the MUNI. I walked and walked. The ocean is never more than 7 miles away. I fell in love with San Francisco.
So. I applied for public housing. Five years ago. I made several trips that year to fill out requirement after requirement. I was number 1281 on the list. I remember talking to one lady who was on her 7th year and still waiting. I asked her if she was disabled and she said no. To myself I said "Good. I'll get in before she does..."
Suddenly, about 2 years ago, I got a letter that told me I was now number 3233 on the list. The war veterans and their families had priority. I quit talking about it. Sometimes I even stopped thinking about it. Some days, I was obsessed - every TV show was based in San Francisco, and I would feel a physical pain, wanting to be there NOW.
The San Francisco Housing Authority doesn't answer their phone.
On January 17th, 2010, I found a website called Bucketlist. A bucket list is a list of things you want to accomplish before you die. It took about an hour to whip mine out, but I really, really struggled with "Move to San Francisco". I had given up... but had I really, since I had typed it in? Finally, I decided to Oprah it. Put it out into the ... well, not the bloggesphere, but to the Universe, and wish it. Wish it with purity of heart and it will come to you. And I put it on the top of the list.
The very next day, I just happened to get my mail. I rarely pick up my mail, cause I don't get any. But I checked it. I had 7 days to respond to the letter. It was the 7th day...
Oprah it indeed.
I screamed. I laughed and then I cried. The people in the lobby asked if I was really going. Oh, HELL YES. I called and made the appointment. Oh, HELL YES.
But. What about Denver? After the car wreck, I told Jeremy that I needed to see him more, and I would move to Denver.
I called him, and told him that I was at the top of the list for housing for San Francisco, and was it okay with him if I moved there instead. I felt bad, I really did. But then I thought "He's far more likely to visit me if I'm in San Francisco - San Francisco is a cool place". And "The weather is so much better for me than Denver...". (He hates Idaho Falls) So I didn't have that worry of never seeing him. (He works for the airlines, and holidays are the busiest times, so he isn't able to visit much at all). He said of course, if I was sure that's what I wanted, of course, he just wanted me to be happy. I started crying again.
He booked me a flight to San Diego. He called me couple of times to make sure I was with it as far as getting all my paperwork was concerned. He wanted my sister to go with me so I wouldn't screw it up. We (Annie) flew over a heart on the ground.