:: Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swinger's Club ::

:: Tuesday, August 09, 2005 ::

"'San Diago', which of course in German means, 'a whale's vagina'"

The more I come back here, the less it feels like home.

Touching down in America's Finest City usually conjures up warm memories of college, friends, and mexican food, but yesterday was different somehow. It just felt off. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I had to leave for JFK at 4AM and therefore decided against sleep in favor of playing Halo and poker in Brooklyn until the last minute. Or maybe it had to do with my remarkable streak of luck in choosing flights that have me surrounded by crying babies (2 in front, 1 behind, and 1 to the left - all cried throughout the 6 hours). I still can't put my finger on it, but everything feels foreign.

One thing that hasn't changed is the weather. It's a breezy 78 degrees and sunny today in downtown whale's vagina. In fact, I'm writing this on my laptop seated outside a local cafe sipping iced coffee - and I'm NOT sweating! For the first time in 8 months, I actually feel good about taking deep breaths because the air smells like sweet grass and ocean water here, whereas back east it smells like stale urine and garbage.

I know where you think this is headed. For the past 3 years I've written about all the things that bug me about New York and list off all the wonderful things about California. Pretty predictable stuff. But not today. Today I'm here to say that, although it feels great being back West, it's no longer home. Sadly, it will soon be time to say goodbye to the lifelong friends, mom & dad, the ocean breeze, wide-open spaces, large apartments, taquitos with guacamole, smiles from strangers, and beautiful women waiting in line at fast food joints, but this time I don't think it will be so bad. I'm looking forward to wasted hours in front of the Xbox playing boxing, Halo, and football with my new good friends; going out on any given night to happy hour at Verlaine for $4 lychee martinis or our faithful hip-hop standby, Bob Bar; deciding to check out M.I.A. for free in Central Park and opting not to go at the last minute, and knowing it's no big deal because there will just as surely be other events to follow throughout the summer.

I'll always be a West Coast kid at heart, but for right now I'm not minding waking up in The City That Never Sleeps.

...