lesson one, california (or, what i learned from leaving)

if you consider the word 'recently' (as i do) to be decently relative and for the most part negligable, then i think i can safely say that a lot of things big things have occured in my life, recently. i got a new tattoo, i moved to indiana, i wrecked my car, i made out with someone.

lets discuss them in chronological order.

i find that i get a lot of flack from people, in general, for leaving the 'sunny' san francisco bay area to seek generally colder climes. my closest friends and my family have nothing but support for me in everything i do (proven so well in the last two years, thank you) but i often find myself angry at the wrong end of 'but why on earth would you leave california for indiana?'

so let me explain something to you. california is not the mythical place of visions and dragons that hollywood loves to make it. northern california is dry and cool in the summer, and cold and rainy in the winter. yes, flowers do bloom by the freeway near thanksgiving, and yes the ocean is four blocks from your doorstep, and yes there is a beautifully appointed museum of modern art, not to mention a collection of sea lions like none other.

but how does this make california a good place to live?

this is how i see it: gasoline is always at least 1.70 a gallon, and everything at denny's costs 2$ more. you cant sit in a greasy diner until 4 in the morning and smoke an entire pack of cigarettes with your best friend while crying about that stupid boy (or sandwich) that didnt call you the morning after. it is difficult to make friends because while in the midwest, you are considered daring and forward and clever, in california you are considered passe. this is because nothing lasts there. the kind of people you love to be around are the kind of people who have been chased north by blond women and blue eyed men in ford expeditions who are determined that no-one play music outside on a sunny day for the sheer joy of it and that tattoo parlors are to be requisitioned to the ghetto where they will not have to see them and be reminded that one day, their children run the risk of growing up and making their own decisions (however unwise).

i lived in california for 15 months. june to december in foster city, january to august in daly city. i took two friends with me, i had three friends already there. after three months, two of them were gone. after six months, a third one left. most of the time, one of them was only there as a physical presence. and most of the time, the only one left of five and i were too busy, too fettered, and too far away to find time for one another. in my entire time in the sunshine state, i made one new friend. and she and i never managed to get really close.

so tell me about loneliness, please, tell me about Why California is Better than Indiana (tm). Tell me about the fact that i come home every night and sit down on my mothers bed and i ask her about her day. she asks me about mine. tell me about how i can get in a car and drive three hours south and find my heart and soul sitting on a couch and smoking a cigarette. tell me about how her eyes and my heart light up in unison every time i see her.

and let me tell you about the boy who drove five hours south to pick me up and take me back to where he came from, just because i wrecked my car and i had no way to come. let me tell about the girl with the long blonde hair who danced around like a child when we arrived and it was like the sun came out at 10:30 pm (wisconsin time). let me tell you about the other girl, the one with the long dark hair who knows what i am thinking without my having to say it, who says 'i already know' when i try to explain that look i gave her, forty minutes after the fact.

there are so many stories and they are all rooted here, in the flatlands, out somewhere in the newly harvested fields, under the leaves that i have not seen fall in two years.

and yes, i have loved california. i have amazing memories of a perfect summer and a perfect first kiss and a perfect night on the perfect beach with the perfect combination of people (plus one guitar).

i guess all i want to say is that beauty is not necessarily rooted in sensation, in ostentation. it doesnt have to be about high tide or mountains or palm trees.

it shows up just about anywhere.