Ahem.
Sorry.
Where do I begin?
I have never been so damn confused in my damn life. When I decided to take my vacation in San Diego I KNEW that I would love it. I have had thoughts of living there since I first visited at the age of 10. My old aching bones will not be able to take the winters for much longer and that I'd like to spend my twilight years in somewhere a bit more... warm. Beautiful. Chock full of palm trees and a large body of water. L.A. sucks and Florida can only offer great college football and soul-sucking humidity. So San Diego it is.
I have always liked living in larger cities and the proximity to Mexico and cheap "prescription" drugs really appeals to me.
Dio had an inkling that when I got on that plane, I might never want to come back. And he was right.
For the first 5 days.
We left on Friday, May 27th. The girl we were staying with picked us up quite promptly and off to her place we went. Now, I am not going to give a blow-by-blow. A lot of crazy/funny/scandalous things happened, but that is better left to my hazy memory.
Basically, we came, we saw, we drank.
The neighborhood we were staying in is called Ocean Beach or OB to the strung out people living there. I immediately felt a sense of complete relaxation when I walked around there. Hippies played bongos on almost every corner. Surfers walked barefoot down the street with their surfboards tucked underneath their arms. Bars were bumping at all hours of the day. It was such the complete opposite of Chicago that I fell in love. After one night hanging out downtown, I decided BAM! Bethany is DEFINITELY moving here!
My first picture of the trip. I am a dork.
we went to a few clubs with C's friend Roger. Cool guy. Older. Sweet. Totally took care of us. Looked 45. Acted 20. He took us down to an empty club he managed where the drinks were free and the dance floor belonged to us.
Holy hookers!
We got bored and headed over to one of the sweetest clubs that I can remember the name of that I have ever been to. But since all bars close at 2am (pussies!) we had to leave. He got his friend to open us his restaurant after it closed so we could engage in some naughty activities. So where are the pictures of our transgressions, you ask?
This is the tamest one I could muster. Gotta keep this page PG-13, people. I do it all for the kids.
Saturday, we got to walk around so I could really take in my surroundings.
The street where we stayed
Our home away from home
The courtyard where we spent 99% of our time smoking and drinking
We hit up the beach and did some people watching.
I spotted a Purdue flag and got all excited. I ran over there as fast as my little chocolate sticks (don't ask) could carry me. I actually ended up knowing one of the guys, so we moved our stuff over near them. Small world. Our attention spans waned, so we packed it in and took a drive up the coast.
I just realized I am giving a play by play. I don't have the energy or mental capacity to continue. So here is what I'll do. First, I'll show you some pictures. Then I'll tell you the moral of the experience.
I like a nice thick juicy ass every now and again.
Can't beat a keg stand on the beach. Mostly just for the photo op, at my request.
Mamma said there'd be days like this...
C's brother and I. I look pretty rough. Sun and booze taking its toll hardcore.
I look much prettier when I'm partially obscured.
Cool shot of some fisherman.
The West Coast's longest pier. Trust me. It takes over half and hour to walk down it. C's apartment was right off this.
This is the view when you walk 40 feet from the apartment complex. Awesome.
This is Brandy, the prettiest and sweetest cat ever. I called her Japanimation adorable and the name Japanimation just stuck.
So... a lot happened in a short amount of time. I had a blast, that's for damn sure. I met 2 really cool people. I really examined my life and the direction it is heading in all week long.
We were supposed to leave on Tuesday afternoon, but since H and I took off the entire week, the two of us decided to stay until Sunday. If I would have left when I was supposed to, I probably would have come back here, gung ho and moving out there. I mean, in my mind, the bags were packed. The resumes were updated and sent. Goodbyes were said. But...
All of that sun and fun packed into 4 days was really deceiving. By Friday, the bloom really fell off the rose.
Since I don't want to re-write exactly what happened, here is an excerpt from an email I wrote yesterday:
Friday night, we all made plans to go to Padres-Cubs game. (75% cubs fans, seriously!) C's brother got us all tickets. We went. She wandered around getting beer for an inning and then came up and told us she was bored and wanted to leave. I said that was pretty crappy of her after her brother went to all that trouble. I asked her when she was leaving and she said now. She could tell I was mad, so she sat back down and her bro said if you want to leave, get out of here right now. She told H they had to leave because her bro was kicking her out.
Really stupid. Petty. He reacted srongly, but she brought that out in him. I said fuck it! Cubbies! So I stayed. I was looking forward to it all week. H called my phone and I didnt hear it. We played phone tag. I finally got ahold of them, and Heathers like "are you coming home?" and that was the last place I wanted to be, having spent a bunch of time there all week waiting for people to get home from work. C grabs the phone and starts going off on how evil her brother is, when he is standing right next to me... saying this about a guy that just 2 days prior thought I should move to San Diego and date. I let her go off and I was silent, but when started saying I avoided her phone calls, I went off because I had been trying to call them back the whole time. She wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, so I hung up.
So she freaked out because to her I was being a bad friend. She packed all my stuff and put it on her porch. Her position is I was taking her brother's side over hers. So I should just stay with him. My position is that I wanted to stay at the game and have a good time that night and avoid all the drama. Then that night, I get to hear everyone talking $hit about her, when just days ago they were all the best of friends.
After going out and doing several "chili bombs" (Crown and Red Bull, so good) we went back to the apartment, where I discovered all my stuff was packed and out of her room. I got really upset. I went down to the pier and stared out at the ocean, crying and thinking about my life and what direction I want it to go in. If moving here was really the right choice.
Do I love it there? Yes.
Could I be happy there? For sure.
Would I miss my friends in Chicago? Most definitely.
Would I make the mistake of a lifetime leaving Dio behind? Probably.
It all came crashing down that night. And it sucked.
I came to realize what an awesome group of friends I have here in Chicago. Yes, San Diego is beautiful and I love it. But what good is being in a beautiful place if you have no one to share it with? I am not saying I wouldn't meet new people, but I found myself really appreciating the close friendships and copious amounts of love I have in Chicago.
But, I never saw myelf living out my days in Chicago. Ever. I have always wanted to move to San Diego. But now that I love someone that does see themselves here forever, I don't know what to do. This is my life. I need to live it for myself. I guess what I am figuring out is if I am already with that one person that could possibly be worth altering what I envisoned my future to be.
So this summer will consist of me deciding what I am going to do. The summers in Chicago are awesome, but my lease is up in October, so that means either staying here and making a commitment to stay here or taking a leap of faith and going to San Diego. Only time will tell.