Home stretch

Really hard to believe, but it's almost time to leave. Everyone keeps asking if the time has flown by, if I'm excited to go home, if I've had a good time. And I generally give some non-committal answer because I don't want to sound too enthusiastic and give the wrong impression. The summer hasn't really flown by, but as always, looking back, it doesn't seem like I was here that long. I'm definitely excited to go home. I miss the Midwest, and I'm anxious to see everyone. And I have had a good time. I know sometimes it doesn't sound like it, but being out here has been a really great experience. A learning experience, if you will, heavy on the introspection and self-reliance - which is important for me at this point. Time to close the California chapter of my life and start another new one - The Real World.
I'm so very excited for Eileen to come out. It'll be nice to feel like San Diego is my town and show a visitor around like I know what I'm talking about. Which I only sort of do. I wish I could stop being such a planner and worrier and just chill out and let this trip fall into place by itself, but that's sooo against my nature. But I'm trying. No matter what, it should be fabulous.

A slow climb

It's been a tough couple days. I try to put on a brave face and work my way through it all, but the fact is, I'm ready to come home. I'm tired of being here. I'm tired of everything being difficult because I'm so far away. Despite the fact that I've heard that Fergie song 12,000 times this summer, I'm no less of a crybaby than I always have been.

Sometimes I just want to curl up in my bed and stay there all day, cozy and relaxed and in my own little world instead of the outside one that I don't want to deal with. But I'm proud to say that I haven't succombed to that. Yesterday, when I was feeling pretty low, what did I decide to do? I climbed up a mountain. We're not talking Everest or anything, but it was good-sized, and the path up (and down) was not easy. It was the middle of the afternoon, hot and bright. There are no trees to speak of in that general region; the main type of vegetation is short, spindly bushes that whistle when the wind blows through them. And the path was dirt, punctuated by rocks, some of them quite large. But the view at the top (and most of the way up) was amazing. Neighboring mountains, egregious SoCal sprawl, Lake Murray, winding freeways - it was worth it. By the time I was done, I was covered in a thin film of dirt, legs definitely sore, but I had such a sense of accomplishment. I did it. I did it myself. I thought, "Hey, I'm going to go climb a mountain," and I went and did it, just like that. I know it might not seem like a huge deal to anyone else; for the record, there were plenty of people significantly older than me who made the same climb I did. And while the physical act of climbing was strenuous, it wasn't the most rewarding part. It was my ability to brush past the day's stresses and hurts and accomplish something on my own. Again, perhaps not something that would win me any medals or even earn me any particular respect, but I did something for me, and that's what matters.

Crisis mode

In the past few weeks, I've been struggling with career crisis No. 2. I think the first one struck sometime during the school year, about the time The Post did the story about quarter-life crises. This bout of occupation anxiety is more intense than that one because I'm much closer to actually having to figure out what I want to do. This would be easy if I was ready to be a traditional journalist - I'd apply for any open jobs that sounded remotely close to what I wanted to do, and then I'd take one, even if it was in some backcountry town at a paper with a circulation rivaling The Post's, and I'd be grateful for all the experience I'd be getting. However. Somewhere along the way I decided I wasn't all about newspapers like I thought I was. I think this was after my internship last summer, thus begging the question of why I took another newspaper internship this summer. And honestly, if I could answer that question, I would. I guess I kept hearing voices of mentors and employers of how great a DJ internship would look on my resume and what a great experience it would be. And it has been great. But how useful is a copy-editing internship (or two, for that matter) going to be to future employers if I decide to move outside journalism?
I'm trying not to have regrets - it's not like my future is set in stone here. I could go back to school for something else, do editing in a different venue, explore other communication-related opportunities (all options that I'm considering). But it's hard to be content to fly by the seat of your pants when, as it now stands, in a few short weeks you won't have health insurance anymore. Still, I'm trying not to freak out about all this. Things will fall into place sooner or later. Maybe I have to work a job I'm not crazy about or mooch off my parents longer than I wanted to. Because discovering what I truly want to do with my life is what's important to me, and if that means sacrifices or not really "using" the degree I got, then so be it. I can live with that.

On a less serious note, it's looking to be a good weekend. I actually have plans with people other than myself, and it should be fun. As much as I'm looking forward to coming home, I'm also aware that my time here is running out, and I'm doing my best to make the most of my California summer.
Speaking of, one of my coworkers asked me last night if I was going to save my license plates (I recently got the real California plates for my car). I said yes, not admitting that I'd already thought about what I wanted to do with them. He said he thought they'd be a good souvenir, and I agreed. I told him people back home think California is IT. So many people told me how lucky I was that I got to be out here, and while that's true, it's funny to think about. Because obviously Californians don't walk around every day thinking to themselves, "Man, I'm lucky to live here." Some days I do. But then again, I'm not a real Californian.

Some Surreal SoCal Moments (SSM) I've had

- seeing a Louis Vuitton Kleenex box cover on the dash of a BMW SUV

- walking around an outlet mall and not hearing English for a good 10 minutes

- on a beautiful 75-degree day, observing most of the cars with their windows up (aka AC on)

- overhearing a saleswoman at the Gap talking with a customer about strategies for convincing an 11-year-old that she doesn't really need a pair of True Religion jeans

- going for a run on the beach, just because I wanted to

I'll be making another post like this soon, I'm sure : )

Peering forward

I miss Charlie, the postal worker at the Baker post office. Yesterday when I went to buy stamps for some items, the lady just gave me the stamps and my items back instead of putting the stamps on the items and taking them for me, like Charlie does. Oh well.
It's been just more than a week since Meg left, and I've pretty much gotten used to being on my own. A good (and bad) part of living alone is having lots of time for self-reflection. The theme of the past week or so for me has been that frightening, looming abstraction: my future. Just when I thought I had gotten to the point where I was comfortable with where I was and in my ability to just take things as they come. I guess I'm just scared to grow up. Some days I wish I was about 26 already so I could skip the young-person-figuring-out-her-life bit. I know that this is supposed to be the fun time, when I can explore different ideas and careers and places and decide what I want to make of my life. But I guess in this respect I'm a planner - I like to know what the next step is so I can prepare myself for it and move forward with a clear concept of what I'm getting into. So much of my life right now is variable. I don't have a job or any real plans for after I'm done out here. I could literally go anywhere, do anything. But mostly what I want to do is go home.
For years I prided myself on being adventerous and independent, willing to do whatever I had to do what I set my mind to. But after four years of college, two trips to Europe and almost two months in California, I'm realizing that the only place I want to be is home. I miss my family and the familiarity. And though I'm not sure exactly what I want to "do with my life," I hope I can do some good there, something to make my hometown a better place.
Alrighty, enough of that business. Plenty of time left for me to over-analyze and stress myself out over all that.

I can be lazy

Hmmm, two whole weeks without a post. Go me. In my defense, a reliable Internet connection has been rather hard to come by at my place, and I'd prefer not to blog while at work. But whatever, I'm back, and I'm sure everyone missed me : )
Biggest news of the past two weeks is that Meg left on Monday. So now I am definitely alone out here. It's good in some ways - I can explore things on my own, establish my own schedule, focus on myself - but in other ways it's not so good - it can get lonely, and going to places by myself isn't all that fun. But I'm a big girl, and I can handle this. I'm about to the halfway point of my time out here, which is refreshing and hard to believe. In many ways I feel like I've been here forever - I've got the freeway system down pretty well; I've got favorite places to eat and favorite parts of the city; and I miss home, and my family and friends quite a bit. But I also realize that five weeks is not that long, not nearly enough time to really get to know a place. That's like half of a quarter at OU. And speaking of OU, I'm experiencing my first bout of Athens withdrawl at the moment. The feeling is probably pretty close to what a coke addict goes through - yeah probably not at all.
I'm sitting here on my balcony, and I don't know if I've mentioned this, but San Diego is a pretty big military town, and I live close to several bases - closest, apparently, to the one from which many planes take off. For my Cleveland people, living here is like the air show every day. Some days the noise is so loud I feel like I should duck and cover. When I go out running or when I'm waiting to get onto the freeway, I can usually spot two or three fighter jets in a 10-minute span. It's pretty cool most of the time. I like planes, and big, loud planes that can do tricks are by default even better than regular planes. The times when it is not cool is when they decide to fly the planes early in the morning - and by early I mean like 9. Cut me some slack, I work cop-editor's hours.
Oh, by the way, if you haven't seen, I (finally) posted more pictures of what I've been doing out here to Facebook for your viewing pleasure. Note also that in the latest shots my hair is considerably shorter. I decided to get it cut because I was getting sick of my hair but also to mark the mood of this summer. Maybe I'll get into that more later, but then again maybe not.

Happy 4th of July (sort of)

It's not really the Fourth anymore, but oh well. It didn't really seem like it. Megan and I went to the beach this afternoon - PB, to be exact. Holy f. Apparently that's where everyone goes to hang out on July 4th. It took us forever to find somewhere to park (pssst, don't tell Von's that we weren't actually customers), and then we had a 20-minute walk to the sand. And once we got to the shore, again, holy f. It was like Palmerfest times 100 - on the beach. Tents everywhere with people playing beer pong, blasting stereos, dancing, throwing frisbees, going down slip 'n' slides, you name it. There was just this mass of drunken humanity on the beach. And if it wasn't enough like a street party at OU, there were....wait for it....horse cops. I took a picture of them, I was so excited.

But anyway, we didn't stay too long. I couldn't drink because I had to go to work (well and drive) so I felt sort of out of place, plus it was super crowded. So we high-tailed it out of there and got some Chipotle. I mean, who needs barbeque? I'll take burritos any day. Like I said, later on I had to work, which definitely didn't help the day feel like a holiday. We did take a break and go up to the fifth-floor balcony (which is huge and awesome, I'll get some pictures from it up here) to watch some fireworks. It was kind of cloudy, and the fireworks were all far away, so we couldn't see them that well. It was pretty surreal being up there - like peeking in on everyone else's celebration and not really having one of your own. Standing up there, it felt less like the 4th of July than two years ago when I was in Germany. Can't really explain why, and I wasn't necessarily bummed, but just strange.

In other news, I'm feeling good that I've started to connect with some of the folks at work. Last week I got taken out for drinks by the younger set, so that was really nice. Today, even though I packed my dinner like usual, I accepted an invite to grab dinner at In-N-Out, mainly because I'd never been there, but also because I want to take every opportunity I get to hang out with people outside the newsroom. I also brought in cookies tonight (I swear I'm not a suck-up), which I think people appreciated. And next Sunday is one of my coworker's birthday party, and it was really nice to get an invitation (technically an e-vite). Sometimes I just want to stay in my own little comfort zone, but it's also beneficial to branch out and embrace social opportunities. Makes me feel less alone.