Sweet Disposition

San Francisco trip - 2/14

We take our time getting ready, but we get off at MacArthur this time. I lead Brianne about a mile down the road. This is the roughest part of town we've been in so far. Maybe not, compared to what would happen later on. All I know is it smells foul, but no one hassles us.

All the sudden we're in this nice neighborhood, and I know we're there. Tall fences border the facilities, and I think maybe they're not too tall to climb. No, I'm not making a phone call home to my mom. I'll get in someday but not this way. We walk the perimeter, hoping to see something better than fence and bushes. Employees walk in and out and maybe we think about sneaking in the door behind them. We think about it very seriously, actually. Through the cracks we can see a man playing basketball, and it looks like people are working out. What even...we keep walking and talk to a guy pouring chlorine into something. Maybe he's their pool guy. He's really friendly. "This place is seriously it's own world," Brianne says. "I feel like no one would ever have to leave."

Around the other corner is a nicer view. The buildings are nice and there are apple trees and a stature of a seagull on the top of a building- the one from Finding Nemo. "I bet they just make themselves laugh so much with their inside jokes," Brianne says. I agree. It's beautiful, but still doesn't reveal much. We continue around the last corner and I hope for the best. I don't want to have led her down here for nothing, but I this is something I've wanted to do for so long. I don't want it to be an empty trip for me as well. 

There are still gates, but we see a large patio outside a nice looking building - the Steve Jobs building. Writers, animators, and editors are all outside enjoying lunch together. Some are lounging on the grass. I see Luxo Jr. and the ball. I knew those statues would be here as well, but from the past few minutes, it didn't look like we'd be able to see them. I stick my arm through the gate and through the rose bushes. There are so many thorns, probably meant to discourage people from doing this, but I snap a few pictures anyway. 

The sign and the gates appear before us. Pixar Animation Studios. I take a picture and stand for a moment to reflect. It's incredibly hard to get into this place, and so far, standing outside these gates, it's the closest I've been. I am filled with resolve and vow to work much harder so I can work here someday. Tears fill my eye. I am happy. 

We take the bus back to MacArthur. I look at the map and it says to get of at the Civic Center, but I forgot that was one place we did not want to go. This is definitely the worst part of the trip, for me. It smells horrible and there are people everywhere, everywhere, and I feel terrified. Like they want something from me or want to hurt me. And it feels like the buildings are getting taller and taller and I want to scream. I'm trying to find the right directions but I'm having an anxiety attack, and trying to keep it under control so I can get out of there ASAP. 

Finally we find the right bus, and I stare out the window and try to forget everything, because we've got something really great in store for us. We get off at the Golden Gate bridge, and man, what a sight. All is right again. There's a really nice lookout point with a visitor's center and a place to grab food. I'm reminded of Disney's California Adventure, but then laugh at myself because we're living it. 

Walking across takes some time because we keep stopping to take pictures and admire everything. In the middle of the bridge is a great view of the city. A white sailboat sails underneath. "This isn't real life," we laugh, astonished at the sight. Bikes blow past us and we pass emergency phone boxes. Crisis lines. We talk about how we lucked out, because it very easily could have been foggy. The weather was so beautiful and really, so perfect for walking the bridge. By the time we get to the other side, the sun is starting to go down and we're hoping that there will be a bus. No such luck. 

After resting for a few minutes, we gather our things and cross back over. Each step hurts, more than the other. We're slow, but we make it, still admiring with each step. We catch a bus home.