Armistead Maupin's Tales of the City series. Where do I begin? With the fact that they got me through both finals and my first summer away from home freshman year? With the fall junior independent work I wrote on serial fiction and Tales that led my adviser to, memorably, ask me, "Would it be productive to look at gay sex?" With my crush on Brian? With my fondess for Michael and Mrs. Madrigal? With the sudden, unexpected kinship I now feel for Mary Ann, a Midwesterner who shows up in the city for the first time at the beginning of the first book and finds more than she expected?
All good places to start, but I can't quite bring myself to start anywhere but my return home after Princeton graduation, where I found some mail waiting for me. There were several touching graduation cards, the most surprising and moving of which was a generous check from my aunt and uncle in Baltimore.
Now, I have had very little to complain about this summer. I went with my parents to France and to Colorado and spent quite a bit of time in each location. That being said, the thing I had been planning to do this summer--the thing I had been planning since last November--was a trip to San Francisco to see the new Tales of the City Musical.

I didn't think it was possible. I was short on funds and seriously short on time. But then I opened the card with the check and I knew that it had to happen, because I had just been handed this great opportunity and I couldn't let it pass. It was one of those Dickensian coincidences Armistead Maupin loves.
I spotted Armistead Maupin from across a room once, randomly. Roommate J and I went on a trip to San Francisco during our intersession break junior year and we saw him eating lunch with friends. I completely chickened out and didn't go up to him and say anything. I just nodded in what I hoped was a friendly and not off-putting manner when they passed by our table on their way out. He probably gets enough people telling him how much his books changed their lives and how much their grateful to know about other people who could get by on just five good friends, etc. etc. etc. Or maybe he could have used some friendly praise. Maybe he was having a bad day and needed a pickmeup.
We'll never know.
What I do know is that within a half an hour of getting the check I had booked a trip to San Francisco: plane ticket, parking at the airport, hostel, and, of course, theater ticket. I came in under budget. Huzzah! I could eat!
(I forgot to factor in gas. How could I know that prices would come to exceed my college GPA?)
I arrived in San Francisco on a Thursday evening. I grabbed a snack, talked with my roommates in the hostel, and went to bed early. On Friday I took a very long walk. I made sure to stop by City Lights. They give the best advice.

I made it back to the hostel and showered before I met up with Y, a friend from Princeton who just started as a grad student in chemistry at Berkeley. We ate at a Greek cafe and strolled around and I gave him advice on how to make friends (invent a roommate, watch copious amount of High School Musical, talk about it to everyone...don't ask). He walked me to A.C.T. and I picked up my ticket and chatted until the last minute. Then he scampered off and I let it soak in. I had arrived!

The play was amazing. I marveled at the abilities of the cast. I laughed along with my seatmates at jokes only ready-made fans would appreciate. I pooh-poohed Brian's wig.
(At least I hope it was a wig.)
(Uh-oh.)
It must be said--and I'm not sure why this surprised me--my favorite numbers went to DeDe and Beauchamp. It had never occurred to me what fun those characters are in the first book. At first I thought they only served to buoy others' stories along, but they're a critique on the upper-crust and that's always a lot of fun.
Anyway, after the musical I went back to the hostel. By now it was something like eleven at night but I was still wide awake, and it had only a little to do with the guy playing interminable saxophone in the street outside. I lay in bed until three in the morning only to be awakened by my alarm at six. I hopped out of bed, got dressed, checked out, and hopped the BART back to the airport.
I really felt like seeing Tales of the City, which was a constant for me for most of my college career, was my final closing moment. Appropriate, since I'm moving to a city of my soon. Anyway, I got back from the trip (and the one in Colorado, which I had interrupted) and immediately packed the entire series to stick on my bookshelf in Chicago. You never know when you're going to need support and inspiration.