The Lazy Coast

Somehow a month has gone by since my week vacation to Southern California. I traveled with my younger sister, Maggie and her best friend, Jenna. We were going to visit Jenna's brother and one of my best friends, Jarrod who works in San Diego for the federal government protecting our border. He lives and spends most of his free time in Pacific Beach, an outlying beach community of San Diego brimming with guys showing off sleeved tattoos, trendy tank tops, lifted trucks, surfboards and the young girls that love them. I also had the opportunity to spend time with Mike, my best friend from middle school and Craig, my college roommate. Maggie and I spent the week walking and biking around the city and surrounding areas taking in the colorful sunsets, spring break beach scenes, eating the local cuisine (cheap burritos, tacos) and consuming enough alcohol to remind ourselves we were on vacation. It was a great opportunity to spend time with old friends and my sister, who is finally old enough to spend time with. As I've gotten older, most of my time has been alotted to working, spending time with my girlfriend, and working out. It was nice to  break routine and enjoy the company of people I would otherwise just drop a message to on Facebook. What I really enjoyed about San Diego is exactly what Jarrod hated; the lazy attitude.

I have the reputation of being laid back, some may even have some choice words in regard to my lifestyle, but nobody could ever call me lazy. I simply hate living by a schedule, I hate constantly rushing around, I hate getting frustrated with people that are taking their time. Growing up and spending my entire life in the northeast, that is just the kind of lifestyle my peers and I became accustomed to. I'm not sure what to attribute it to exactly, just that it is what it is. To be honest, I am sick of it. The stress that this fast-paced lifestyle causes just doesn't seem to be worth all the frustration. I know for a fact that we are not meant to live that way, yet as Jarrod exemplifies, we are creatures of habit and crave what we are accustomed to. Although I spent time living in Costa Rica, it was not enough time to miss home. I'm not sure how I would react to living in a place like this, but I know for sure I want to try it.

I also became aware of how many people living in Southern California are actually from the northeast. These people can be seperated into two categories; hippies and hustlers. The hippies are pretty self-explanatory. Given the lax laws regarding marijuana and the overall acceptance of art, love, surfing, long hair, liberal hygeine, and unemployment, there is no wonder that Southern California has become a hot spot for the hippie. The other category, the hustler, is someone that hates the northeast winter, craves change, loves meeting new people, initiates activity, and wants to take advantage of the fact that entrepreneurial competition is a lot harder to come by than in New York City or Boston. I'd like to think that I fall somewhere in between the two poles, but both seem to be very successful in their seperate endeavors. With spring slowly arrives and with it, New England summer, I see very little reason to leave. This coupled with the fact that I am fully committed to helping my father turn his company into a lucrative business keeps me grounded, but there's no chance this craving for the west coast is going to subside.