Halfway through my last month here in San Francisco, and I am starting to get a little sad. I have been feeling the pressure of my upcoming move back to Canadia – desperately making plans to squeeze in every last social event and spend as much time as possible with the people and things I have grown attached to over the last 3 months. I'm going to have dozens of good memories to take back with me, as well as a few lasting relationships which will all hold me over until I return next year. I can't help but think of all the things I might forget about, the insignificant daily routines and colorful bits I sometimes catch out of the corner of my eye as I walk across the street. The man on the Friday night ferry to Vallejo who tells me stories of his daughter who is my age. Not having to actually order my special double americano with room for milk, because, well I bring them a lot of business and they are just kind people who pay special attention. Janice – ahh, brown velore jacket and matching ripped bell-bottom pants, tie-dyed scarves and a guitar, forever roaming Upper Haight in search of peace and love. Pelicans! There are many more than I could have imagined, and it is really something to watch a flock of them barely skim the surface of the bay waters, if you watch long enough you might see one dive deep into the water and pop back out with a giant fish in his stretched beak. The paint scribbles on sidewalks – Jackson Pollack has been wandering the city in the middle of the night writing bits of poetry and I think I am the only one who knows. My own little secrets that will forever stay in san francisco, the little things I'll try my hardest to remember, and if I don't, I'll re-learn them next time.