Table for one in San Francisco

Just about all the things I wrote in my journal while on my solo trip to San Francisco, Ca. August 8th through August 11th, 2022.

On the way up to San Francisco I stopped in Santa Barbara for two reasons.

The first reason was to satisfy my green grape craving and the second reason was for Jeff Shelton.

Jeff Shelton is an architect who has a couple of his famously known buildings within a 3 block radius in Santa Barbara, Ca.

A lot of his work is famous on Pinterest and if you shamelessly scroll through that app as much as I do, you’ve probably come across a snippet of his work at one point or another.

His style is funky and unique and it all makes sense as to why I am so drawn to his designs. He’s a rule bender.

And although his buildings follow all the city guidelines and have a mainly Spanish look to them, he adds a unique flare with wonky forms, curvature, and pops of color against the smooth, white adobe.

Seeing his work up close and in person was jaw dropping. Functioning buildings that in itself, are works of art, is hard to come by nowadays.

I actually had to trespass to view his Ablitt house and got a couple stares in the process but where there is no risk, there is no reward. WWJSD. What Would Jeff Shelton Do.

As I continued my drive up the coast, I was reminded how god awful boring central California is.

It’s just fields and fields of what seems to be nothingness.

And then I stopped again in a little town called San Simeon.

This time it was just for gas and a hazelnut latte.

I actually don’t know if it’s a small town or not but the no cell service, guy working at the gas station with no teeth complimenting my “purrty skirt,” and the row of antique shops kind of made it feel like one.

As I continued driving, I noticed a guy in my rearview mirror trying to get my attention.

Oh god.

Was my break light out? Tire wobbly? Did I leave my coffee on the roof of my car?

I got nervous for the first time on this trip.

I did NOT want to pull over in the middle of nowhere and seek car assistance from some random man on the freeway.

Turns out the guy just wanted my number.

And I know this because after he was in my rearview putting up praying hands for me to see, he eventually pulled up next to me smiling and holding up a hang loose sign to his ear, AKA banana phone, AKA he wants in my pants.

So of course I did what any girl my age would do and pulled out Snapchat to record his desperate yet laughable behavior.

I kindly decline from the next lane over and he speeds off.

It was nearing sunset and I was about an hour out from San Francisco until I noticed a small sign that said “Half Moon Bay” with an arrow pointing left.

Hmm. That sounds nice. TURN.

I followed the signs up this curvy, nature surrounded road and end up at the parking lot of Half Moon Bay, a beautiful lookout point of the ocean just off of a quiet neighborhood, so quiet I could hear the conversations of the people below the cliffs I was standing on.

Everyone around me was watching the sunset in awe, old couples, kids on boogie boards, the cute boy on a run that said hi to me.

The smell of a nearby campfire and the sound of waves crashing.

It was so peaceful and my mind went blank for those minutes spent watching the sun go behind the horizon.

I kept driving and finally arrived to the city, more specifically Sunset District, a more mellow part of San Francisco.

My Airbnb host, Zen, met me outside and guided me into his small driveway.

He helped me with my bags and showed me around the house and where I’d be staying.

It was a small 3 bedroom space with a kitchen and full bath. Where I would be staying in one of the bedrooms and another one of his clients would be staying in the room next to me. The third bedroom unoccupied.

Light wood floors. Shoes by the door. Asian home aesthetic.

Zen and I then went on to have a two hour conversation while we stood in his kitchen. The rawest place to have conversations.

We talked a lot about Arcosanti, a smart, experimental city in the middle of Arizona.

The buildings are sustainable, the streets are made for walking, and the focus is on community.

It’s a very interesting topic with a utopian approach, where everything you would ever need, is in this one city. I’ve heard of this concept before from a friend. That one was called Culdesac and it’s also a car-free neighborhood in Tempe, Arizona.

We agreed that these cities and communities would become a bigger part of our future. That we will see more pop up as time goes on.

I had lots of questions. Wouldn’t people get bored? Do you think people would get a similar feeling to “island fever?” Wouldn’t people still want to travel?

We talked a lot about Teochew, a dialect of Min Nan Chinese originating in China’s Guangdong province.

He told me that Teochew people are known for their factories. Your dad is a factory owner, your mom is a factory owner, and then you grow up and you’re a, yep you guessed it, a factory owner.

A lot of the “Made in China” products we see in America come from these factories.

The Teochew people are very business oriented. They are extremely well mannered and love to help others around them.

He then went on to ask me if I was single.

Yeah I guess that’s a weird question to get asked coming from your married with 2 toddlers Airbnb host, but I still told him that I was.

He told me of his 30-year-old Teochew millionaire friend looking to settle down. “The richest guy he knows” he said “and the most giving.” Showed me a picture of him and everything.

Hmmmmm a very giving millionaire you say? Music to my ears in essence of a broke college student.

This question lead to us talking about love and marriage and all our thoughts behind it.

I told him I wasn’t really looking to be involved in another person’s life romantically right now especially not with the goal being to be added to a 30-year-old man’s will.

Zen showed me the paint swatches he has picked out for the front of his house and my opinions on it.

He showed me an app that creates floorplans for you by scanning the interior of your home.

He noticed my mascara smeared under my eyes, gave me many, many suggestions for exploring the city and what he thought I’d like, and then told me to head to bed because I was clearly exhausted.

The room I stayed in was so cozy. It was clean and minimal and for the first time in months, I slept like a baby.

The next morning I drove to a nearby café called Devil’s Teeth Bakery and had breakfast. My friend Sophy who is originally from Santa Cruz gave me so many good spots to visit in San Francisco, so I followed a lot of those throughout my trip.

The breakfast sandwich I had was buttery and cheesy. I sat outside on a bench and fed the crumbs I dropped in my top to the pigeons. I told a little red-headed girl that I loved her hair and her mom gave me a big smile back.

I drove to Haight street right after, a row of vintage and family owned shops, a suggestion I got from my friend Marco.

The street was decently busy but I didn’t mind. I almost got hit by a young skater and then he said “I’m so sorry ma’am". That humbled me a little bit. Being called ma’am.

As I walked the street, I heard an abundant amount of languages. Some I couldn’t even pinpoint on where they were probably from.

A very hippie dippy shop caught my eye.

I walked in and was absorbed by every type of crystal known to man.

But the part I was more interested in was the back half of the store with lots of handmade, baggy clothing. Every rack was packed and the clothing was stacked all the way to the ceiling.

Some of the coolest styles I had ever seen with very detailed patterns.

I picked up a pair of magenta parachute pants that smelled like incent smoke.

I asked the woman in the back if she was the one that made all of this clothing and she said yes. Her and the woman working the card terminal up front.

She was extremely sweet and grateful when I purchased the pants.

The prices were cheaper than Urban Outfitters and were made with a lot more love. It felt good to give my money to them.

The lady up front gave me a free handmade bag to put my pants in. It was a reversible tote they had also made themselves.

I visited the Buffalo Exchange and a vintage store filled with old designer dresses.

As soon as I walked into the dress shop, I saw a beautiful flowy white dress just around my size.

The owner noticed me admiring it and told me to try it on.

So of course I hop on over to the dressing room.

It fit me almost perfectly. The straps were a little big but it felt like I had just stumbled upon my future wedding dress.

The owner called me out of the dressing room and made me do a spin. The whole store was looking at me and another customer told me the dress was practically made for me.

I’m usually not a fan of the color white on me considering my rather pale skin, but I felt ethereal in that dress.

The owner continued to pull dresses for me to try on. He knew I wasn’t going to purchase any because of the high price tag but we were both having fun playing pretend.

The brand was Gunne Sax, “a now de-funct clothing label founded in 1967 that specialized in Victorian and Edwardian-style designs.”

I had never heard of it but just discovered a new found admiration.

I sent my mom pictures of all the dresses I was trying on and she knew the brand without me even telling her. She then told me she has two dresses almost exactly like the ones I had tried on and that they’re packed in boxes somewhere in storage. It is now my quest to find said dresses because how dare she hide them away from me like that.

My next stop was the hill that faced the famously known, Painted Ladies.

I sat on this hill for around an hour reading my book, people watching and admiring the six colorful Victorian houses that make up the ladies.

I asked a group of three girls around my age if they wanted pictures taken of all three of them because I had watched them struggle to set up their self timer cam time and time again. I figured while on their trip they only had pictures in pairs because the other was taking the picture. They were extremely grateful.

After that, another lady approached me to ask if I could take her picture for her and her friend because she, “heard I do great work.” Gladly.

I wonder if anyone lives in those houses? Do they ever get tired of tourists staring at them and photographing them?

I get undressed in front of my window way too often to ever live in a house like the ones of the Painted Ladies.

"It’s so nice we actually got to meet up, especially because we drunkenly talked about this, drunk comments mean a lot to me.” Some man passing by said to his buddies.

“I hate these shorts because my ass just eats them.” Another man said.

After basking in the sun, I went back to my Airbnb and charged up on grapes and scrolled through Hinge to see what eye candy was in the area.

One boy invited me to a Solar Event that night. I had no idea what that was but evidently it’s a company that puts on mini events in speakeasies and only announces the location 48 hours prior.

The one that night was a jazz concert on 16th and mission. Apparently not the best place to be late at night, potentially under some influence, with a random boy from Hinge. So I didn’t go.

Other than that one invitation, there wasn’t many boys I was impressed with, at least from Hinge.

I did, however, meet up with one of my freshmen year dorm friends from college. Henry, who I hadn’t seen in three years.

I met him outside of his family home in the mission district and we walked to the top of Dolores Park at sunset.

The view of downtown was beautiful and even more admirable after we smoked his pre-roll.

We chatted about how much has changed since we saw each other last and he gave me the inside scoop of the city he’s lived in since he was a child.

When we started to get the munchies, we walked down to a Filipino inspired Mexican restaurant he swore by.

I had calamari and the best flan I’ve ever eaten. Could've been because I was high. Could’ve been because it was authentic. Nonetheless, delicious.

After that we walked to a liquor store where Henry knew the owner. He bought a drink and I stood there and asked about the honey packets on the counter.

No, not regular honey, sexual enhancement honey. In which both the owner and Henry were embarrassed to explain to me and then laughed.

The owner then gifted me a lollipop. No, not a sexual enhancing lollipop, just a regular cherry blow pop.

I audibly gasped and was so excited. Mainly because lollipops have been my most recent obsession. You know those foods you get hooked on for weeks on end until you get tired of looking at them? Yeah, right now, mine is lollipops.

So for him to hand me exactly that, was shocking.

The Universes seemed weirdly aligned in that moment.

We walked to my car and sat on the curb right outside of it. Henry and I talked more and then went our separate ways after I finished my lollipop.

My cherry blow pop on the side of the road

When I woke up the next morning, my host Zen had me meet his wife and baby.

His wife told me I was, “so beautiful,” and we went on to share conversation over two bowls of Honey Bunches of Oats. My favorite, and the only cereal they had in their cupboard. Universes aligned.

Zen wanted me to stay past my check out time so I could meet his millionaire friend who was coming over, thinking we would hit it off and fall in love.

I told him no because I wanted to get to the California Academy of Science Museum that morning because priorities.

The museum offers $6 tickets to EBT cardholders so of course I had to take advantage of that.

I saw an albino alligator, a turtle named “Soup” who was almost a victim of a soup kitchen before they rescued him, and precious butterflies everywhere.

California Academy of Science butterfly sanctuary

After that I walked to the Japanese Tea Garden.

It was very quiet and reminded me a lot of the one we have at CSULB.

I can see why people would enjoy a cup of tea here.

“The mix with the peas and the corn and the carrots,” an old woman explained to her husband while holding hands through the garden, “That one is my favorite.”

How sweet it was to witness such simple love over the topic of peas and carrots.

As I tried to remember where I parked my car, I get a call from Zen inviting me to lunch with his millionaire friend.

I said sure! A free meal is a free meal.

They picked me up in a red tesla where I formally met Andy, the millionaire man I had already heard so much about.

We played carpool karaoke and sang Party in the USA and Sweet Caroline together.

My mom for sure thought this was just a very intricate scheme before getting human trafficked.

But instead they took me to a Korean Barbecue place where I learned Asian mannerisms.

When someone pours you tea, you tap your fingers on the table as a way of saying thank you. But when said out loud it’s pronounced

“Gahm-sah-ahb-ni-da” 감사합니다

They cooked the KBBQ for me and never left my plate empty.

After that, Zen left to go meet up with his niece and Andy and I drove to Japantown for mochi and ice cream.

As we sat in the Japanese food court and enjoyed our desserts, Andy showed me his properties in Thailand he operates and the house in Palm Springs he just bought.

The house in Palm Springs is a fixer-upper. It needs quite a bit of work but I noticed a lot of potential in it.

I told him I had recently gone to Stagecoach (and had to explain to him what that was since he’s not too knowledgeable of American normalcies yet) and that all the houses in that area get booked way in advance for the big summer festivals.

The only thing he was missing was an Interior Designer for the house.

And how coincidental it was that he was talking to an Interior Design major about to graduate looking for work.

Andy wants to invest in me.

He told me he would love to assist me in my career and give me full reign of the house to kickstart my dreams of creating extremely niche Airbnb’s around the world.

Inside my heart was beating so fast.

It was the perfect opportunity that fell right into my hands and to think this connection all started from me talking to my Airbnb host in his kitchen.

The queen of networking anywhere I go.

I didn’t see Andy as a lover but I did see him as an incredible business partner. So in a sense, it worked out beautifully.

After he dropped me off at my new Airbnb we hugged and he told me again to have me call him anytime I needed anything.

I booked another night in a different Airbnb because I felt my time was too short there and that I still had so much of the city I wanted to explore.

I met the new host, Asok, who was an elderly Asian man with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

He was so welcoming and reminded me a lot of my Italian grandparents.

He led me to my room that was covered in pink and orange hues. It was so cute and “trendy.”

He gave me the key to the house and I told him I was going to Chrissy Fields, supposedly the best place to watch the sunset fall behind the Golden Gate Bridge.

I walked on the dirt path along the beach next to a big grassy field where I could see the bridge.

There were lots of evening walkers and a couple tourists.

A wiener dog started running beside me so I picked up his ball and played with him for a bit.

There were lots of men with buckets and fishing poles.

I sat on the cement block and people watched for awhile.

The weather was perfect throughout my entire trip.

I realized how blessed I was to have experienced two typically foggy and rainy cities in such sunny weather this year.

Seattle in March and now San Francisco in August.

I drove to Tommaso’s, an Italian restaurant known for their pizza, another suggestion from Sophy.

When I parked, there were a lot of cops surrounding the area.

I stopped and asked one of them if it was safe to be walking around alone right now.

He replied, “Uhh, yeah?” Clearly he’s never been a woman before.

I then reiterated my question, “What’s with all the cops?”

“Oh, Kamala is coming through.”

“Who?”

“Uhh? The Vice President?” He scoffs.

“Oh". Lmao.

Tommaso’s was dimly lit and smelled like my Nonna’s cooking.

I knew I was in good hands.

“Table for one please.” I said.

The man seemed a little confused at first but then of course, guided me to a little booth on the inner side of the restaurant.

I ordered the oyster alfredo pasta and wrote in my journal while I waited for my food.

It was probably one of the best meals I have ever had. Oysters are one of my favorites.

Not only was the dish incredible, but the ambience, faint noise of Italian music in the background, and the presence of my own company, was so special.

I need to go to more restaurants alone because gah damn is this peaceful.

I can go wherever I want, order whatever I want, and leave whenever I want.

When I arrived back to my Airbnb, Asok was up watching TV in another language.

“Where did you end up going?”

“Oh I went to the Chrissy fields! And then got dinner at Tommaso’s.”

“Oh, I was up waiting for you, making sure you got home safe.” He said softly.

I felt so protected with the people that had been sent to watch over me.

I’m not usually one to be into angel numbers but my best friend Jenna is and she taught me that when you consistently see 444, it means there are angels looking after you and that you’re on the right path.

This entire trip I had seen 444 consistently.

My last day in San Francisco I woke up and drove to Pier 39, a suggestion I got from quite a few people.

It was pretty touristy. I bought an SF pin to add to my travel backpack.

I watched the seals play by the pier and talked with another tourist about how funny of animals they are.

Then I watched a man make the crepe I ordered right in front of me.

I got the Nutella and mixed fruit crepe and then absolutely manhandled it because I forgot a fork and was too lazy to walk back and grab one.

Another reason I like doing things alone is because nobody can judge the way I decide to do things.

When my siblings, mom and I would visit my grandparents in Roseville, I would always beg my mom to stop in San Francisco on our way home. She almost always said no because she’s the exact opposite of a city girl and doesn’t like to be around a lot of people.

But one time I was actually able to convince her. We passed through SF and I remember she drove us through Lombard Street.

I did a design project last semester on Lombard Street and could only faintly remember it from my childhood. But I wanted to see it with fresh, much more grown eyes.

Such a fascinating little pocket of SF. All I could think about was the poor Amazon drivers in their big ass grey trucks that had to drive down this street every time one of the residents on the street ordered something.

After that I drove to the other side of the Golden Gate bridge. It was a pretty drive up and a must see view.

How do these toll roads work? Has anyone tried ending their life here?

When I was younger, I wanted to live in San Francisco so badly and my mom can vouch for me on this one.

It always seemed so artsy and progressive and full of diversity.

The city is covered in Victorian houses that have always inspired me just by looking at them.

Victorian houses diagonal from the Painted Ladies

I wanted to visit the Brandy Melville in San Francisco to see how different it is from the one I work at in Huntington Beach. A lot of the clothing was the same except for one shirt we had at our location said Newport on it and theirs said Bay Area. I bought it.

I met the coolest girls there and they welcomed me with open arms when I told them I might transfer to this location after I graduated in May of next year. They said everyone there is chill and they all hangout quite often. They had just gone to a mini concert together.

They gave me their Instagram’s so we could keep in touch. It would be easy to make friends my age with these girls if I moved there.

Everything seemed so right.

I went to Fisherman’s Wharf after the girls had suggested I go to a little hidden photobooth in the arcade located nearby.

I took selfies in the photobooth and then sat and listened to a man play the drums for cash outside.

It was very lively on the wharf with people dancing and eating seafood outside on tables. I had no other plans for the day and decided to stay for awhile and enjoy the live music.

The drummer was taking a break so he came and sat beside me asking where I was from and what I was doing in San Francisco all alone.

I told him I was leaving tonight and he offered me to stay at his.

Super awesome but I’ll pass, thank you though drummer man who is nearly triple my age.

Everyone from the Bay Area lovesssss the Bay Area.

This was super prevalent when I came to college and I would meet anyone from that area. Any chance they got to say where they were from, they would rep it loudly, and I respect the hell out of that.

My Industrial Design friend Sebastian is the perfect example of this. He’s the Bay Area in human form and I’ve always been drawn to him.

This could be a result of “pretty privilege” but a lot of the people from the Bay Area are very giving and friendly. If you’re cool with them, they’re cool with you.

There is so much diversity and a lot of people are from different backgrounds so there’s a lot to learn from.

Like I said, it’s a very progressive city. Zen told me, and also from my own experiences, that SF is like a “trial city.” People come with new ideas and soft launch them in the city to see how the environment responds.

This is the perfect approach for someone in the design field.

My last two stops in the city were Coit tower and Senor Sisig, a Mexican food restaraunt.

Coit tower was pretty and suggested by my friend Mariah. I was there during sunset.

Senor Sisig was yummy and suggested by my friend Henry. I got their traditional burrito and ate it at the tables outside.

The street was busy and the sun had just gone down. This is my favorite hour of the day.

I was taking every last bit in before I made the trek back down to Long Beach.

Another Victorian house I passed on my walk

San Francisco was very good to me.

Travelling alone is magical and for anyone even considering going on a solo trip, my advice to you is just go. Even if you’re a woman, even if your parents tell you not to, even if you’re broke, just go.

Go and experience an unfamiliar place. Eat anything you want, buy tickets to whatever you want, sleep wherever you want.

There were a lot of people that were terrified for me to go on this trip by myself. My mother, who was just being a mother, and a lot of friends who thought something bad was going to happen to me while I was up there.

Sure, San Francisco can be a dangerous city, but I didn’t want that to stop me. “I’m drawn to the things I’m most scared of.” A quote from a recent interview through my internship that I resonate heavily with.

I left the city with deep connections with people who were once strangers. I left feeling inspired by the beautiful architecture of Victorian homes throughout the city. I left without my car windows getting smashed.

I loved this experience and I’m so glad I went.

San Francisco, I’ll see you again soon.