I walk out the front door of my brother’s house and immediately feel like I’m back where I belong.  Whenever I visit him, it never feels like I’m visiting, but rather, it’s a coming home.  In 1987, being the obedient daughter that I was, I packed my bags and moved to San Francisco, specifically to Foster City, 10 miles south of San Francisco.  We agreed on one year, but ended up staying almost 10. 

And now, I am back again in Foster City, staying just a block away from our old house and surrounded by very familiar surroundings.  This is truly my home away from home.

People ask me what I do when I’m here, and it’s probably the most boring vacation/travel story ever.  I sleep in, I watch TV-mostly reruns of Vegas, Beverly Hills 90210 (the original series) and One Tree Hill, I go to the supermarket (still the same old Lucky that we used to go to), I cook and do laundry. 

Somedays, I meet up with old friends for coffee.  That usually means a minimum two hour session of chatting and reminiscing, gossiping and laughing.  Somedays, another friend picks me up and drags me to the city for some shopping or just to accompany her on errands.  On days when I’m on my own, I drive to one of the locations in my 3-mile radius and shop.  The next day, I will most likely go back to one of those stores to return what I bought the day before.  And the 3-mile radius really is perfect (no need to go on any freeway!)  I just visit Bridgepoint Shopping Center where there’s a Target, Old Navy, Bed Bath & Beyond, Sports Authority, Staples, Toys R’ Us and a Starbucks!  Then there’s Hillsdale Mall with a big enough H&M, Forever 21, Macy’s, Nordstrom, a big Gap, among other things.  Plus, there’s a DSW across the street.  Who needs to go any further????  When I do, my brother is kind enough to drive me to any place beyond my comfort zone.  Not a bad deal right?

But this is also what I love about coming here.  I just relax and take things easy, no panic moments, nothing urgent. I look forward to doing my laundry, washing the dishes, and any other household chores I find myself taking on.  (Especially on this trip, when my brother decided to finally convert his office into a den/guest room.  My first few days meant assembling furniture, washing sheets, cleaning out closets and using power tools.  Thankfully, no major injuries occurred!)

And the best part? Everything is so familiar, that you don’t really feel like you’re on vacation.  It really does feel like you’ve come home…