California Dreamin

Circle of Fun


All the Little Ants are Marching
Nick and Jay: right where I left them

I honestly think I’ve spent more time on the road than at home this year and, minus the Blackberries and Admirals Club access, I’m beginning to feel like a traveling salesman. I’ve learned my way around all three of New York’s airports, condensed my apartment into a suitcase size package, and finally figured out how to fall asleep before takeoff without getting my hair stuck in one of those annoying airplane windows (though I did develop a porthole size bald spot along the way). Since traveling is a synonym for stress in my suburban world, I’ve never really viewed flying as a form of enjoyment, but it’s been nice to catch up on my In Flight Magazine and experience a world where taking a field trip to the bathroom is considered a form of studying abroad.

Now that festival season has come to a close, most of my traveling has been part of wedding tour. Sometimes I think I want to get married, but then I realize I just want to throw a big, formal party, so I’ve decided to save my parents some stress and outsource my annual Hungover for the Holidays party next season (more on that in January).

In early-October I spent a long weekend outside Los Angeles, trying to figure out when exactly In-and-Out Burger replaced the gold nugget as Middle America’s main reason to venture west. In general, California is a pretty cool state, though at times I felt like Larry David in Curb Your Enthusiasm--- a New Yorker trapped in a world where all night subways, Jewish Delis, and dry witted sarcasm don’t exist (oh the humanity). Though I was in town for a family affair, I spent an extra few days in La La Land ( and Los Angeles) visiting a few friends who migrated west sometime after graduation. As much as I miss having them a stoners throw away from my apartment, its nice to have good friends in other parts of the country. I’ve never been one to strike-up conversation with strangers (as this blog surely proves, I prefer to undress emotionally online) so, for me, vacations are usually chances to escape form my social reality. But, with so many comrades on the left coast, hanging out felt like a episode of Saved by the Bell at Malibu Beach (the same story line filmed in a more exotic location). So it makes sense that my long weekend featured a healthy mix of sitting around, watching other people smoke weed, drinking chocolate milk and condensing affluent counties down to their OC-size equivalents. If I didn’t have to come home a day early for a second wedding, I would have spent some more time on Sunset Strip, or at least ripping Amanda and Caity CDs in their living room. But its nice to know that there are people like in all parts of the world, living out their own Seinfeldian fantasies one episode at a time. Lets just some the skate punk falls out of fashion sometime before my California adventure enters syndication.