It’s always bittersweet returning home from a trip.  Especially a great one.

My trip last week to San Francisco was incredible. It was different than a usual spring break vacation. I went to California with my roommate – we stayed with my cousin who lives in a fantastic apartment four blocks from Union Square. We didn’t ride the ferry to Sausalito, see Alcatraz or take a bus tour. No, my roommate and I met with various business people around the city. We had appointments every day – as if we lived there. This is what we hope to do after we graduate. 

The city is amazing.

All of the crazy things people tell you about San Francisco are real. I love the reality of the big city. I love walking everywhere, everything being within walking distance. I love how you can be in over seven different countries within ten blocks of San Francisco – from India to Little Italy to Russian Hill to Chinatown all the way to Pakistan and Korea. The food is fantastic. The little mom-and-pop restaurants are to die for. I even loved the homeless man who skipped across the street in a pink leotard, tutu and army boots. I love the feeling of the city – being surrounded by strangers, the hustle and bustle of life.

I love it all.

Am I scared? Hell yes. Not only does the job market SUCK right now, almost all of my entire family is in Colorado. I am extremely close with my family and it is terrifying to not be a 45 minute drive away.

But I have to do this. I have to spread my wings.

And hope I can fly.

I love airports. They are prime real estate for people-watching. I see people tuned in to their laptops, with the signature apple iPhone earbuds hanging from one ear and their blackberry glued to the other. It’s fascinating how technology has taken over our lives – and it is blatantly obvious at the airport.

And, of course, airports remind me of travel. Up to this point in my life, I have been on many different vacations. I have travelled to Arizona to visit relatives, to California to visit friends, to Mexico to lounge on a resort for a week or so – but this trip is different.

Now, I am venturing to San Francisco in search for a job. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Ok, that’s not entirely true. I am meeting with 3 connections my father made for me (for which I am eternally grateful). However, I do not know exactly what to do… You see, at this point, the only jobs I’ve held have been in the restaurant industry. Yes, I’ve had a handful of interesting internships that required a more professional interview process; however, those were unpaid thus it was more likely for me to be hired.

Here, I’m on my own. Looking for a job. A place to live. While trying not to get lost.

Good thing I love it here.