Another world

On Saturday, Meg and I went to Pacific Beach (or, as everyone calls it, PB) with Peggy and Janet, two of our housemates. As we were waiting for our lunch (huge, yummy omelets at a little breakfast/lunch places called the Broken Yolk), Peggy asked us if we would ever consider living in Southern California long term. Even though I hadn't really devoted a whole lot of time to the thought, I immediately blurted out, "No way."
I know it seems kind of silly. I'd only be here a week, not nearly long enough to know all the subtleties and good aspects of life here, but as I think about it, I've seen enough to make my decision. SoCal really is another world, and not one that I can see myself ever completely fitting in to.
To expand on something I brought up earlier, the guys we met at the Padres game were perfect examples of why this place isn't for me. [Keep in mind that this game was on a Thursday afternoon.] These guys were all dressed like skater/surfers (if you're familiar with the show "Rob & Big," they could be Rob's groupies). They had obviously had a few rounds before coming to the ballpark, and once in their seats, the craziest two of the bunch had managed to down at least five more beers each, mostly thanks to the fact that they discovered an unlocked beer cooler and proceeded to steal bottles of beer from it until someone wised up and locked the door. I'll admit that the other four or five guys were pretty tame, but I'm almost 100 percent sure none of them were married, and none of them appeared to take life too seriously (they really got a kick out of appointing someone else their secretary and passing their cell phones off this person to answer for the rest of the day). I'm not against a good time, really - but here's the kicker: These weren't a bunch of frat boys or recent grads out for an afternoon of fun. These were 30-year-old men, and this seemed more like a pattern of behavior than an afternoon off.
I know this might seem presumptuous of me - after all, I'm sure if you looked hard enough, you could find guys just like them in Cleveland or Detroit or any other Midwest city. Heck, here's a New York example that I read intently (most of the time with my jaw on my chest). But it's just the whole attitude out here - the stereotypical, laid-back, surfer-dude mentality that comes to mind when the rest of the country thinks about California. And that's totally not me.
Another case-in-point: When my friend Vanessa came down from LA the other day, we ended up at the mall near my work for a late lunch/early dinner. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in San Diego, so where was everyone? That's right - at the mall. I was ready to run someone over with my tiny red car after about 15 minutes of searching for a parking spot. It's the mall, for crying out loud. We were only there because we couldn't find a place to park downtown and were about to collapse from low blood-sugar levels. The attitude out here is, "I want to be where everyone else is." In the Midwest (or at least among my circle), the thought is, "Why are so many people out? Let's find someplace less crowded." Traffic, crowds, lines, overdevelopment and so on just make me want to tear my hair out, and overcrowding is a way of life out here. No thank you.
With all that said, San Diego is still a beautiful place, and I'm glad I'm here. I'm getting another perspective, seeing the way of life in another part of the country. And while I'm grateful for this opportunity, I'll also be grateful to get back where I belong.