Un-natural 4th of July Weather

Last night at 9:30pm I was sitting on a blanket at Crissy Field, waiting for the fireworks to start, dressed in tights, jeans, socks, sneakers, a thermal, a tee shirt, a hoodie and a down jacket plus a knit cap, and kind of wishing I had one of those scary ski masks, too - IT WAS THAT COLD!

I grew up in Southern California. The 4th of July was always, always hot.
LA and San Francisco: when you look at them on a map, or when you take the quick one-hour long flight, they seem so close. Weatherwise, they may as well be on different PLANETS. Hell, they may as well be orbiting around different SUNS. I just felt so strange bundled up for winter, sitting in an enormous field of grass, with the damp wind making my cheeks and nose wish they were under a ski mask.

My boyfriend and I were huddled together discussing high finance, also known as the hypothetical "How much would you pay for coffee right now?" game.
We decided we should have been there with a Zojirushi thermos of hot chocolate, auctioning off cups of it.
"I would pay $7 happily," I said, especially if it was
Dagoba Organic Chocolate's Xocolatl hot chocolate with chiles and cinnamon.