keep California weird

So I spent the weekend in LA with the family, getting some good quality time in. It was a blast seeing Elyse and Dad and Paula; particularly the traditional trip to Islands (yumm!).

I flew up to Oakland yesterday and rented my car (a Chrysler Seabring, of all things. A boat of a car that is actually quite fun to drive) and saw two ladies who made my heart glow. One woman had a pink died Mohawk, a pink floral shirt, day-glo yellow shorts and pink converse. Her friend was dressed from head to toe in goth black, with dyed hair the color of raspberry juice. She had on three-inch platform boots and was decked out with a long black jacket and the heavy black eye liner. And I looked at them and thought about how great it is to be back in California. No one was really staring at them, making them feel uncomfortable, and they seemed so at home and happy. This is one of the things I really miss about living here. People can act like as much of a freak as they want, and it's not all that couth to be all judging them on it.

As I was driving over highway 17 yesterday to visit my mom and brother in Santa Cruz, the radio was playing that Joni Mitchel song, California, and I just got so happy. The highway's lined with trees, redwoods popping out here and there, the smell of the ocean mixing with the smell of cars and firewood. And as I went along the curves it's like I was breathing in the tie-dye and corduroy, the sage and pine smells, the hippies and the feminists. This sounds really cheesy, I know. I've been reading some drama-filled novels and the language is sticky I guess. But my point is I know I miss so many of the great things here- the people and the plants/tree and the laid back culture and the beautiful landscapes, and at the same time I so love my life in Boston. I guess I get to have both places, huh.