Feels Like Home.

This post will be lacking in my usual, curmudgeonly grumbling, I'm afraid.  That's because tomorrow I am flying to San Francisco to see a boy I haven't seen in over three months, and it feels like I am going home after a very, very long day.

Where do we live?

So excuse my sentimentality; I'm just a little giddy and preoccupied with the idea of being in the same state as my sweetheart for the first time in months.  It's got me thinking about things like:

-the wool peacoat I ordered to keep me warm down by the bay
-room service and restaurants
-walks down chilly city streets
-snuggling and humming early-morning Christmas songs with a stunning soprano vibrato until he wakes up and we can go exploring
-trolleys with wreaths on them?  I've never been to San Francisco around Christmas, but that seems like Something They Should Do.
-what Chinatown looks like this time of year.  Is it just the same?  Are they selling festive goods?  YOU WAN NUTCRACKA, FI DOLLAH?
-this movie.  Down below the next paragraph.  But don't look at it right now.  Er--well, you can look, but...I mean, still read the next paragraph.

Meet Me in St. Louis is not entirely a Christmas movie; it's a Halloween movie and a first love movie and a going-to-the-World's-Fair movie.  Which...may or may not be a real genre.  But mostly it's about home.

And it's the most perfect thing.

Image via Fruitheart.

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