96 Hours in …
… and I’m officially digging this city.
I went for a jog in the hills on Saturday and Sunday, stopped to smell exotic-looking flowers and enjoy the very scenic views, I found a sweet, little cafe across the street from Amoeba Music (amazing enormous, overwhelming music store) that I think I’m going to frequent. The guy at the counter recognized me my second trip back, which thrilled me a little (in a city where I don’t know anyone, someone recognizing my face went a long way toward making my day).
I don’t know what I expected, but I certainly didn’t expect to be so immediately smitten with this place. I have this bad habit of dramatically lowering my expectations to avoid potential disappointment. The up side of such overt pessimism is that I’m often very pleasantly surprised.
