I’ve been doing several a day since I arrived in California on Thursday morning. My iPhone says it’s 65 degrees out, but it’s been in the late 70s this whole time, and I forgot how much I miss the intensity of the west coast sun. Not just the heat, but the friendliness of the people, the quality Mexican food, the beach, the gelato, the way no one seems to go by any particular schedule or look at the clock. Why did it take so long for my mom to move from suburbia to the beach? This is truly incredible, and I fall asleep right away because we’re right by the water.
Since moving back east, where the weather always sucks, I’ve really grown to appreciate how easy I had it growing up in northern California. Sure the mornings were chilly, but the sun came up before noon everyday and I never owned a jacket. Now I live in ugly, cock blocking, totally disgusting clothes six months out of the year to avoid freezing to death. At least winter is over, but few things pain me more than looking like an Eskimo from November to April. I’m seriously thinking about just refusing to put on a coat next winter. Life is too short to resemble the kid from “A Christmas Story.”
Anyway, being home has been awesome, and tomorrow, I get to see my childhood best buddies, Nikita, Crystal, and Lauren, and I can already hear the much-needed laugh attacks.
Speaking of laugh attacks, I had one last night when I read one of my diaries from junior year of high school. I look back on a lot of my teenage journals and want to smack younger me for taking something the wrong way or being overdramatic about a situation that didn’t go in my favor, and I’ll probably react similarly when I read this blog in five years. Here’s my response to my high school boyfriend “ditching” me for his friends toward the end of my junior year and his senior year. It’s quite entertaining, and I just wish I could tell 16-year-old me to chill out and leave the poor guy alone. That said, he did end up breaking up with me soon after his graduation, so I think my intense reaction stemmed from the fact that I knew deep down he was investing less and less in me with each passing day. Still, epic LOLs:
“Yesterday I was kind of mean to Kevin because he was with his friends. He didn’t walk up to me or say hi at all during recess, so I approached him and he just continued talking to his friends about knives [LOL!] and didn’t listen when I asked a question. Then I walked away for a bit and he eventually came by for a second, but he didn’t walk me to class, so I left in tears [LOLX2]. Then during lunch, he briefly talked to me and then left to go hang out with his friends in Santa Cruz. Oh, and get this: he didn’t even say goodbye when I walked after him. I spent the rest of lunch moping to my friends. In history class, I sent him a text message, to which he didn’t reply, so I sent another saying, ‘Fine, don’t talk to me ALL DAY.’ Then the class watched ‘Pearl Harbor,’ which made me cry even more [LOLs].
After school was track practice, where Kevin and I talked things over. I admitted I was upset because he seemed to be ignoring me and he just said he hadn’t seen his friends in a long time and wanted to visit with them. Then he reminded me, ‘I would never ignore you. I love you.’
I guess I was being selfish, but it just made me sad because he’s always with me and suddenly he wasn’t. But he’s done a lot for me, so the least I can do is back off.”
It’s funny how little it took to make me turn on the waterworks back then. I can’t really cry over a member of the opposite sex anymore. Believe me, I’ve tried, but more often than not, I’m angry/irritated, not so much heartbroken. You can only cry about boys so many times before your default move is to resent one when he lets you down in some way. The point is, these days I just get annoyed and walk away rather than sob and yell, “WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME MORE?!”
In the same diary, I chronicled my first big NYC trip, which I took with my drama class since I was big into theater back then. It’s fascinating to read now that I’m actually living there:
“Wow, what an experience. I just finished my Drama trip to New York City, and it was totally unforgettable. I was highly inspired by the end of it to pursue my dream of writing. I know I’ll get there, but writing is such a strange goal when you’re in high school because it’s tough to act on. I’ve tried getting a few internships at The Banner and wrote a couple of columns for The Last Weekend, and that’s about as much as I can find right now. Scotts Valley just doesn’t have the opportunities I need, but New York does.
Monday was hectic because the group flew as a unit and spent the whole day traveling. I was stressed, and I wanted to see Kevin. I kept looking at his photos throughout the trip, and the others with boyfriends and girlfriends did the same. We went to a restaurant called Carnegie’s that’s supposedly pretty famous in New York. That was my first taste of NYC overpricing. A single grilled cheese sandwich cost me $9.25, a bottle of lemonade was $1.25, and I paid $7.95 for a gross piece of chocolate cheesecake. Yikes. That was when I learned I really needed to manage my $180 for the week.”
Little did I know, that was only the beginning! Hello, upper east side rent.