Do you remember when you used to be able to go over to someone's place and look through their music collection? Remember when you could comment on their DVDs or the get a glimpse into their souls by looking at a bookshelf? I loved what I could learn about someone by looking at the books they owned. It never felt intrusive to run a finger across book spines the way it would to browse another person's iTunes library.
I'm staying at an airbnb for the first time. The concept of handing one's keys over to a stranger is an odd one to me. I'm not sure I could do it. I'd want to remove every personal artifact on the premises.
It is kind of fun to try to paint a picture of the person who lives here from what is left. Picking up clues like a crime scene investigator. From what I can tell the guy who owns this place is a recovering alcoholic who attends Burning Man. I'd say he stopped drinking some time in the last five years. I think it was a major life change after a particularly bad breakup. I think he's somewhat traditional but considers himself adventurous. This is what I gleam from bookshelves around the murphy bed I am sleeping in.
It really is way more fun to stay in an apartment then it is to be in a hotel. You get to soak up the life of another city from the perspective of a local. And what a great neighborhood this is. I can get Chinese, Vietnamese, Mexican, Italian, French or classic American within steps from my front door.
I haven't spent much time in San Francisco before but I think I'm falling in love with it. Of course, the irony is I could never actually afford to live in this neighborhood. But one can pretend can't they?