My First Real Love

I constantly complain about where I live; the lack of culture nearly kills me. In a recent conversation with a friend who fled California (like most of my friends) I realized just how much I love California. I proudly tote my California Girl brand. I'm only partially annoyed when people assume my tan skin is because I live in California.

This friend had moved to one of the fly over states; where the cost of living is cheap and wages are cheaper. And the more this friend highlighted the perks of said fly over state, I started becoming anxious. I couldn't quite pinpoint it at the time. Later, I realized the idea of being a three days drive away from the Pacific Ocean makes me anxious. So, I explained to my friend, I love the ocean too much to leave it; the beach in December is my favorite past time. To which she replied, "We have beaches." While I scoffed at her comparison, I decided she had a point.












While visiting family in Minnesota, the land of 10,000 lakes, we went to the beach. I find it very important to point out that the idea of Minnesotans calling their beaches a beach is a disgrace to all beaches. The sand was painful to walk in, the water was just standing there and the air did not smell fresh and clean. And since the family I was visiting is originally from the East Coast, they understood my disappointment. The rest of the trip when people asked if I had visited the beach, I replied with, "Yes, I went to the lake." To its defense, the scenery was very beautiful.

My oldest friend in California pointed out that I should not be a snob about beaches. I agree.

The Pacific Ocean is just one reason why I love California so much.