A three-hour tour

Guess what I did over the weekend? 

I got on a boat...

And went dolphin/whale watching!!

 Needless to say, it was really really cool. 

 We saw literally HUNDREDS of dolphins out in the open Pacific, just off the coast of San Diego. 

I will not make a joke about whale's vagina....

I won't be mad if you hate me

Because I'll be too busy walking to lunch from my office in short-sleeves and shopping at the farmer's market in my flip-flops.

(Just so you know I'm not completely cold-hearted, I do feel bad for all of y'all who are suffering through 4 degree weather right now. I remember it well. But I do not miss it.)

All hail the burrito

For it is wondrous and magical and there is nothing in the world like it. Behold:

Burritos are pretty much my favorite fast food ever. It's everything I love about Mexican food in one convenient, human baby-sized package: beans (refried and/or black), rice (yellow), sour cream, salsa, lettuce, cheese (cheddar), guacamole (which I unfortunately can't eat), and the meat of your choosing all wrapped up in a giant tortilla. I don't even order mine with meat anymore because the veggie burrito from my local taco shop is so delicious on its own. And to top it all off, burritos around my hood are usually so big that I can save half for another meal! (I wasn't kidding about the human baby-size.)

I won't bore you with the origin of the burrito or the different styles, except to tell you about the California burrito. It's a San Diego specialty that includes chunks of carne asada meat, French fries, cheese, pico de gallo, guacamole and sour cream. I'll let you think about those ingredients all under one tortilla for a minute. Delicious or disgusting?

 . . . . . . . . .

90% of San Diego would answer the former. I, however, think they're gross.

I shall now be exiled from San Diego and never again be permitted to eat another burrito.

Random Friday Ruminations

Happy Friday Before a Holiday Weekend, everyone! I know it's been a while--I've been busy. Here's a list for you.

• Being alone in the office is about the only time I get to listen to (good) hip hop and rap music. Today I am alone in the office. Connect the dots....
• Living with a vegetarian and a manly man who eats a lot of meat has been a wonderful balance for my diet. Roommate T-money (the veggie) has opened my eyes to so many Trader Joe's items that I don't know what to do with myself. I might explode when she takes me to the Asian market. 
• Speaking of food, I love it. Love it love it love it. There is nothing I mind spending money on less than food. Take me to a good restaurant and I will be content for days, or as long as the leftovers last. That is all.
• It's been a year since I moved to San Diego. How about that. =) 
• Have I ever mentioned that Rad Boyfriend is a carny? I can't remember and I'm too lazy to go through all the posts tagged "boyfriend." So I'll just tell you now (and possibly again) that RB is descended from carny blood. His grandfather worked the fairs all over the west coast and the southwest, and his dad has been doing it since RB was born. Which means RB spent every summer working the basketball hoops, the registers, and doing various other things for his dad's concessions. Is it weird that I find this super sexy? Maybe. But I don't care. I'm getting a t-shirt made that says "My boyfriend is a carny." Swear. 
• So the reason I've been MIA is that I had a bit of a scare last week that brought me to the emergency room. I'm fine, it was likely nothing, but I have a follow-up appointment with a specialist today. Fingers crossed! (And that's all I'm saying about it.) (No I'm not pregnant.)
• The older I get, the more I think I want to live in a small town somewhere in North Carolina. I picture a house on 4 or 5 acres with a spectacular view and so secluded that you can walk out onto your porch naked in the morning to drink your coffee. Doesn't that sound awesome? 
• It's a three-day weekend, you guys!! What do you all have planned? My weekend is going to involve card games, beer, cleaning, decorating, a BBQ, THE WILD ANIMAL PARK!!!!!!!, and lots of sleep. What about you?

But I like it here....

Dan over at [redacted] recently wrote a post about moving back to New York City after living in Miami for a few years. I left the following comment about my fear one day moving back home:

Glad you're back. However I must say, being a born-and-bred New Yorker who moved to warmer climates myself, this worries me. Does this mean I'll end up moving back to the snow and sleet, too? Is every New Yorker's inevitable plight to move someplace awesome and warm, only to realize how much they miss the En Why See? Because I really, REALLY like it here in San Diego. :-/

Here is his response:

Put it this way, Danielle. If New York and San Diego were people, New York would be Jon Hamm and San Diego would be a Jonas Brother, and when the Jonas Brother saw Jon Hamm hanging out all nonchalantly on the street corner he'd be like, "What are you doing, Jon Hamm?" and Jon Hamm would be like, "Just waiting for you to fuck it up, Jonas Brother."

All I have to say is this: if San Diego somehow stops being awesome, or if I ever tire of wearing flip-flops to work (whichever comes first), and this results in me moving back to New York, Don Draper better have an affair with me.

Choosing my words carefully

I live in San Diego where the weather is warm and the sun is out and I can wear flip-flops 300 days out of the year. Most all of my friends and family are on the East coast, where they were just hit with feet of snow and will likely suffer through at least 2 more months of below-freezing temperatures. This makes for awkward conversation when my mom calls and asks me what I'm doing. Because I don't want to lie to her, but at the same time, I don't want to tell her that I'm sitting outside sipping champagne and enjoying brunch on the patio of a nice restaurant.... that would just be mean. So how do I handle this situation? By downplaying it:

Mom: Hi babe, how are you? What are you doing?
Me: I'm good. We're... uh... sitting outside, nothing special.
Mom: How is the weather? Is it nice out?
Me: Uh, yeah. It's in the 70's. Which is a nice change, because it rained here all last week.
Mom: The 70's? Really? Ugh. It's 34 and snowing here. AGAIN.
Me: Aw man, that sucks. But at least the snow is pretty, right?
Mom: Yeah, until I have to dig my car out of it.
Me: Uh... well....
Mom: So what's the temperature there?
Me: Um.. 72 I think?
Mom: Aaahh!! Are you wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops?
Me: Yeah, but it's the first time I've gone out without a sweater in weeks.
Mom: A sweater?! I've been wearing my winter coat for 3 months already! I am so jealous.

And so it goes. No matter how much I downplay it, my mother will always assert that I have it better out here than she has it back home. Until I remind her that she gets to snuggle up with this every night:

Winter

I think I was born with thin blood. Or at least some sort of condition that renders me incapable of ever getting warm. Because even when it's 72 degrees outside, the slightest breeze will make me shiver.

It's been about 65-70 degrees during the day here in San Diego, and that's perfectly fine with me. But it goes down to around 57 at night and holy crap, am I freezing. Last night I slept in pajama pants, a t-shirt and sweatshirt, and under a "level 4" down comforter and I was STILL COLD. I wear a sweater and a pea coat to work every day, and still bring a scarf or wrap to drape around my shoulders. Even though I can wear flip flops to my office, I've opted for boots the past two weeks. Because once my feet start getting cold, then my hands start to feel it, and before I know it, I'm curled up in a ball under my desk basking in the warm air coming from my computer.

And the funny thing is that I've always been this way. San Diego didn't "get to me" or "thin my blood" as some like to joke. I was always the first one to wear my winter coat and the last one to ever leave the house without a sweater, even in the dead of summer. Because you know how cold it gets in those air conditioned stores......

So I ask you, Internet: WTF? Why am I so damn cold? I moved from the frigid home of the Nor'easter that is New York, to a desert on the ocean where the temperature is a constant 60-80, and I still can't shake the cold. Are there others like me? Do YOU turn the heat on in October like I do? Some support would be nice here.

5 new reasons why San Diego is awesome

1. I can wear jeans and flip-flops to work every day. (At least at this job.)
2. Bringing your dog into work is not uncommon.
3. Saying you work "downtown" here is not the same as saying you work downtown in New York in that your commute isn't 2 hours long.
4. Burritos.
5. Beer. San Diego was recently voted the #1 city in America for beer.

I'm back

So I know it's been a while, and that I promised to be back sooner than now. But dammit, life got in the way!!

For those of you who still follow what I'm up to, I moved to the City of Awesome (aka San Diego) about 3 and a half months ago. And life has been been pretty fantastic ever since. I moved into a cute little craftsman bungalow with the famous Red, but not after living with the famous Liz for about a month. (A million public thanks to Lizard and her man Nick. Without them, I would've had to share space with strangers. And who wants that?) In summary, here's what I've been doing for the past few months:

• I went and found myself a man of the Rad variety (rather, he found me);
• I kicked some ass at Monday Night Trivia;
• My car got towed and I had to pay a buttload of money to get it out;
• I've flown to New York and/or the British Virgin Islands for various wedding commitments once a month since I moved;
• I've spent many hours at various establishments that serve alcohol all over San Diego, including Petco Park and the homes of many friends;
• I've generally enjoyed the good life.

In closing, I'd just like to say that happiness is definitely not overrated. You just can't stop believin'.

More to follow....

Packing can kiss my ass

I hate packing. From hauling the suitcase up from the basement to sitting on it to close the zipper (and inevitably having to remove stuff), I despite every part of it. I know things are little different this time, since I'm packing EVERYTHING I OWN. But still I've done it enough time to know that I can't stand:

1. Choosing a suitcase size. One would assume that factors like length of trip and weather at destination would determine what size suitcase to pack, but you know what they say about assuming. Suitcase size is actually determined by gender of traveler, how many activities (read: outfit changes) will be required, and how many shoes she has. And just when you think you can get away with nothing but your bathing suit and some flip-flops, someone mentions a boat cruise and a volcano and you've broken out the closet on wheels.
   
2. Planning what to pack. This essentially requires that you plan out all of your outfits in advance--you can't just throw a bunch of random stuff together and hope some of it matches. When I think about what to pack, my inner dialogue usually goes something like this: "I want that red top, but I need pants to match, and those shoes would go really great, but then I need something else that matches the shoes because it's silly to bring shoes that only go with one outfit, so what about that brown top, and then which pants go with it...." Repeat seventeen times.
   
3. The laundry. How many times have I put a load in the machine, continued packing, and forgotten all about the mound of clothes coming out of the dryer? Too many. Just when I think to myself, "This suitcase isn't spilling over! Score!," a ding comes from the basement and I want to throw everything out the window.
4. Leaving out what you need until the day you go. This is how I manage to forget either my glasses, my pajamas, my hair dryer, or my toothbrush one out of every five times I travel. Did you know hotels charge $6 for toothbrushes? Word to the wise: leave a spare one in your toiletry bag.
   
5. The mess is creates. There is nothing more annoying than tripping over an open suitcases in the middle of your bedroom floor. Or looking for something that you've already packed. Or wearing something you haven't worn since 2002 to run errands because all your "good" clothes are already packed.
   
6. Forgetting something and trying to shove it in at the last minute. I am famous for forgetting to put my toiletry bag in my suitcase until the very end, until I've arranged everything perfectly and created minimal wrinklage. And then comes this gigantic bag the size of a milk carton looking to make its way into my luggage and I have to move everything around and leave a pair of shoes behind to make room. And of course those are the ONE pair of shoes that match that red top.....
7. Unpacking. Be honest: how long do you usually leave your suitcase full of dirty laundry sitting in your hallway before you unpack it? Two days? Three? My stuff usually sits around so long that every article of clothing goes straight into the washing machine. Just be careful not to wash your souvenirs... broken seashells and satin nightgowns don't mix very well. Trust me.

I leave for the City of Awesome tomorrow evening and I can't wait!! I hear San Diego is German for... [5 points to the first person who answers that question correctly].

I'm Going Going / Back Back / To Cali Cali

Guess what, internet?

No seriously, guess.



Don't give up yet, come on.


Still can't guess?

Okay one more hint.


What do all those things mean? Well, not much. Only that...

I'M MOVING TO SAN DIEGO!!

Details to follow. Stay tuned...

What I did on my San Diego vacation

I played (and won) a game that sounds suspiciously like a very naughty word.


I met the Mole.


I went to a Padres game and sat in All-You-Can-Eat seats for the very first time.


I walked through Balboa Park, possibly my new favorite place on earth.


I visited Stone Brewery and had beer that tasted like banana.


I went to a dance party with the fabulous creators of Gingers is the Watchword during which a giant purple die was tossed around.

I ate at Hodad's.


I drank from the moment I got to San Diego to the morning I left for New York. And it was fantastic.

New York v. San Diego, Round 2

I just got back from my yearly jaunt to the City of Awesome, and as per usual, I'm looking for apartments on Craigslist as we speak. Apartments with hardwood floors and tile countertops... apartments with backyards and palm trees on the property.... apartments that don't cost $2000/month to rent. Fear not my SoCal hippies, I will one day return to San Diego permanently, where I belong.

In celebration of this being my 201st post (God, has it been that long?) I've decided to do a followup of my very first post ever. Except this time I'll put NY up against SD in actual categories, instead of just declaring San Diego the winner. I feel it's fairer this way.

Weather: SD. Is this really a surprise? With temperatures a constant 70 degrees and sunny 362 days of the year, I don't see why anyone would ever leave. I sometimes think I would miss the change in seasons if I moved to San Diego, but then I think about all those winter days when I woke up at 6am to shovel my car out of three feet of snow, only to get it plowed back in an hour later. So yeah, I think San Diego wins this one.

Culture: NY. Only because I haven't spent enough time in SD to know otherwise. I spent a morning at Balboa Park this weekend, walking through Japanese gardens and taking pictures of Spanish architecture, and it was beautiful. But I didn't go inside any museums, so I can't really comment on them. Also, NY has several pockets of Chinatowns, Koreatowns, Little Italy, Spanish Harlem, etc. I haven't heard of any such places in SD--yet.

Food: Tie. I have yet to have a bad meal in my city of Awesome. The produce is fresh and locally grown, the fish you eat is probably caught that morning, and even the fast food is good. (Did someone say In-and-Out Burger??) New York is of course home to a million different kinds of food, and I have nothing bad to say about it. Ergo: tie.
Atmosphere: SD. Let's see.... dirty, gray streets and drab buildings, red brick apartment houses that all look the same, people pushing their way through crowds, beat up cars with music blasting from every open window, street signs that re so confusing that they practically guarantee you'll get a ticket, wet slush lining the sidewalks in the winter, foul smells emanating from them in the summer..... I'm gonna have to go ahead and give San Diego this one, if only for the fact that they have palm trees. And way more parking.

People: SD. I pulled into a gas station on my first day in San Diego just as a woman was trying to maneuver her way through some cars toward the exit. I backed up a few feet to let her through, and she stopped her car next to mine, opened her window, and yelled, "Thank you!!" while waving her hand wildly and smiling. You know what would've happened here in good ole New Douche City? I would've gotten a dirty look and a scolding about watching where I'm going. 'Nuff said.

I think it's safe to say which city has won this little contest. And it ain't the place where it's 57 degrees and raining today.


Many thanks to Liz and Nick for hosting me, and thank you to everyone else that made my trip phenomenal as usual =)

A programming note and an Asian

I grew up mere steps from Flushing, Queens, the mecca of New York Asians. It's fair to say I've come into contact with a good number of them over the years in a multitude of places. (I won't name those places for fear of perpetuating a stereotype, but let's just say that they're food is delicious, their produce is fresh, and my suits always come back spotless.) But for as many Asians whom I've met over the years, not one of them was as funny as this guy. Or cute. Come on, you know he's cute.

So. That takes care of the funny video for the day. Onto more pressing matters. Like the fact that I'm leaving for San Diego this afternoon!! If y'all don't know, I heart San Diego with the passion of a thousand suns. You can read all about my love for the City of Awesome here and here. Because I'll be away for a few days, posting will likely be light. Stories and pictures upon my return, I promise.

Whatever you're doing, I wish you a fun Memorial Day weekend. Be safe, eat hot dogs, and wear sunscreen. I'll be here:



Maybe doing this:

It's Friday! Do the Carlton dance!

Happy Friday, Internet!!! I hope you all do a little dance in celebration of this shitastic week being over. And if you had a good week, then you should still celebrate that it's over!!

Here's some things to help distract you from from getting any real work done today.

David Beckham looking muy caliente in an Armani ad. YUMMY.

If you're going to San Francisco.... please take me with you! One of my favorite cities in California.

There's a reason why people love San Diego.

Remember the scene in Men In Black with the alien spaceship? I'm neither confirming nor denying the accuracy of that scene, but let's just say it might be true.

If you haven't seen this video of Ahston Kutcher complaining about his neighbor's construction, please take a moment to watch the minute-long clip. Poor Ahston, being woken up at the ungodly hour of 7AM. The horror!

Okay, WTF is this? Seriously. Like we don't have enough enough people wearing Crocs in this world, we now want our dogs associated with this abomination of footwear? I guess since dogs can't wear shoes, the next best thing was to create doggy beds in the shape of a hideous rubber version of something the Dutch created many years ago. Here is the website from which this atrocity came. And I'm warning you, if you're going to that website to purchase one of these vomit-inducing things, you are no longer welcome on this site. I'm serious. (Ok, not really. But I think you get how much I can't stand this idea.)

So I tried to convince a friend (that's right, I called you out!) to see this movie last night but he refused. I tried for a good 10 minutes to get him to understand what a spectacular movie this is, how many awards it's won, that every single person I've spoken to that's seen it has raved about it. I had my iPhone out, ready to pull up a preview on YouTube, even looked up movie times in surrounding areas. But no. He didn't think it was a movie he'd be interested in seeing and basically told me to drop it. ::Shaking head:: I implore, nay I DEMAND that anyone reading this who has seen this movie leave a comment about how good it was. And if you'd like to go see it again or haven't seen it at all (like me) let me know. Because I feel like I'm the only one who hasn't had the pleasure.


And finally, I know someone who is going to the Superbowl. He is in Tampa as we speak, probably assisting his best friend, a photographer for NFL.com, in taking pictures of the players. AND! He will be seeing Journey live before the game on Sunday. I officially hate you, Steve. So much.
UPDATE: I just got the following text message from Steve in Tampa: "I just saw the little person from In Bruges." The level of jealousy over here has reached volatile levels.

How I fell in love with San Diego (or the post wherein I link to 18 websites)

My first-ever post on this blog was about how much I love San Diego. (And I've definitely mentioned how great it is more than few times since then.) In that very first post, I promised to get back to just why I heart San Diego so much. Well here it is, kids: the story of how I fell in love with "America's Finest City." (If it were up to me, I'd call it "The City of Awesome.")

Way back in 2000, I moved onto the 13th floor of Warren Towers, Boston University's biggest, most prison-like dormitory. It was there that I met the uber-cool Liz. Liz and I always talked about moving out to California after college, but I up and abandoned her in 2002 when I transferred to a school back home in New York. Liz went ahead with our plan and drove across the country to San Diego, while I managed people twice my age at a department store and thought law school might be fun. (Not so much.)

Fast forward to the fall of 2007 when I was looking for post-grad jobs. I stumbled across the San Diego Public Defender's Office website and happened to notice a blurb about a winter internship program. With nothing better to do between semesters (and remembering that I hadn't seen Liz in, oh, 5 years) I thought, "Thirty degree weather, or spending a month on the beach...hmm...." A few months later, I was hauling my suitcase up to the second floor of this sweet house in Mission Beach, a block away from the ocean:

The house

A friend from school had also applied for the internship, so we joined forces and spent a month jogging on the beach, walking on the beach, doing cartwheels on the beach, and drinking on the beach. We also did things like drive to La Jolla and walk on the beach, and drive to Torrey Pines and walk on the beach there, too.

The beach by the house. (And the roommate. And the beers....on the beach)

The beach at Torrey Pines

But seriously... San Diego is wonderful for more than just its beaches and great weather. Having spent a lot of time in Europe, I'm very used to a laid back, relaxed culture. And people in San Diego exude nothing but that, as evidenced by the plethora of outdoor cafes and beach-side shops. New York City is so obviously the opposite of that culture, which may be the reason I keep looking to escape it. San Diego has exactly the kind of mellow atmosphere that's hard to find in my hometown.

Also... the food. Oh my God, THE FOOD. Not just the variety, but the freshness of it all. No wonder everyone wants to move to Southern California--you can get a fresh avocado year-round! Here are some of some my favorite local eateries:

• Ocean Beach Pier Cafe. Everyone I know kept raving about the lobster tacos at this place, so of course I had to try them. I mean, come on--a taco with LOBSTER in it Does it get any better? (Turns out, it does--when you eat three of them.) The lobster was so fresh, it practically melted in my mouth. There was just the right amount of cabbage, and the pico de gallo wasn't too overpowering. I'm not sure exactly how they make the cream sauce that gets drizzled on top, but it added just the right amount of lime to the meal. The tortillas ripped a bit too easily, but I think that can be attributed to the speed at which I devoured them. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: BEST. LOBSTER. TACOS. EVER.
  
• Every sushi place on Garnet Avenue in Pacific Beach. Not one place disappointed, and I'm pretty sure we tried them all. The Garnet Sunset Roll at Haiku was unbelievable--I had never before tried Jalapenos on sushi, and it blew my mind. The Volcano Roll at the same restaurant was the most elaborate sushi roll I've ever had, and trust me when I say I've had some elaborate rolls. They brought it out on fire. And the taste.... oh the taste. The heat caused the cream cheese to melt around the rice and crab in a smooth, creamy sauce, while the avocado gave it a cool element. While this was our most-frequented sushi spot, another good one is Kabuki Sushi. The prices were right, and the atmosphere was very laid back--one of those sushi bars where the boats of rolls float around a little river and you just pick up the plates you want.
• Speaking of Pacific Beach, no post about San Diego would be complete without mentioning PB Bar and Grill. This was probably the place where I spent the most time. The entire establishment is open to the outside, with heating lamps for the those freezing-cold 60-degree nights and umbrellas for the three times a year it rains. Happy hour is every day from 4 to 8, and there is always some sort of special on appetizers or beer. I recommend the sampler platters that include one of everything, and the 2-for-5 beers. With over 30 beers on tap and just as many flat screen TV's around the place (showing every single sports game on IN THE WORLD), I can honestly say this place has something for everyone.
  
• While we're talking about beer, we have to talk about the Karl Strauss Brewery in La Jolla. This microbrewery/restaurant not only has the best Ahi tuna I have ever tasted, but serves over 20 different kinds of their own beer. I ate there twice while in San Diego, and both times I ordered the beer sampler: six half-pint glasses of the beers of your choice. My personal favorite was a summer ale that tasted like banana.
  
• And Ralph's. Ah, Ralph's....only the best supermarket on the planet. I have never purchased better (or fresher) salsa and guacamole than in your store, Mr. Ralph. I salute your superior quality of produce and your ability to sell liquor and shampoo in the same establishment. Of all the venues I have named, I miss you the most.

I've covered the weather, the atmosphere, the beach and the food... I guess that leaves Shamu, the biggest zoo in the U.S., the 15 museums in Balboa Park, the surfing, and the seals in La Jolla.

They were pretty cool

So that's how I fell in love with San Diego: I spent a month there and saw everything. I drank coffee with brown sugar and watched the surfers on Mission Beach. I walked the piers in Ocean Beach and Pacific Beach and rode a bike from Mission to La Jolla. I smoked a hookah at Sinbad Cafe on Garnet Avenue and requested the best song of all time at The Shout! House in the Gaslamp District. And just a few months later, I went back for more: after my last semester of law school, I met a friend in my City of Awesome and we spent five days relaxing at his uncle's vineyard in Ramona. If that doesn't make you want to move there, you'd be hardpressed to find something that does.

And if all goes according to plan, I'll eventually end up living there. Hopefully somewhere close to here:

Friday night TV

We all know how much I heart San Diego. So it makes sense that I would like a show that takes place in San Diego. The Ex List is about a woman who goes to a psychic for her sister's bachelorette party, and the psychic tells her that she has to get married within the year or it'll never happen. AND the dude who's she's supposed to marry.... she's already dated him. So he has to go back through the dozens of guys she's had relationships with, slept with, dated, etc. to see which of them is the one. Sounds kinda cheesy, but the characters are actually intelligent and the show has some semi-plausible story lines. (Not to mention girls in shorts and bikinis.) And have I mentioned that it takes place in San Diego? That place with year-round temperate weather, awesome beaches and fish tacos?

The Ex List, Friday nights at 9pm on CBS (or watch episodes online here.)

New York v. San Diego, Round 1

It's no secret that I love San Diego. If I had to pick my favorite 5 cities in the world, SD would definitely be on that list. I mean, what's not to love? The year-round temperate weather, the beach, the restaurants, the fact that obtaining prescription drugs without a prescription is mere minutes away, I could go on and on. But I think my favorite thing about San Diego is its laid back culture. I find that people in that city are just generally pleasant to be around. (Except for the bums. They are generally not pleasant individuals, but we'll get to them at a later point in time.) No one seems to be in a rush to get anywhere. People will gladly stop and give you directions (the correct ones), bartenders will make sure you have a cab, and drivers will stop in traffic to let you cross the street even if they have the right of way. I'd love to see a native New Yorker try that last one on a NYC cabbie.

Now don't get me wrong, I love New York. It's my hometown, the city that never sleeps, the place where you can order a pastrami sandwich and a hooker at 2am, both will be delivered to your door and neither charge will appear on your credit card statement. I love the energy, the culture, the sense of self-righteousness that it instilled in me at such a young age. But oh my God, am I ever sick of the "fuck you" that New York seems to constantly be screaming at everyone. There is this continuous sense of competition, an omnipresent "mine is bigger, better, and cost more than yours, and therefore I am better" mentality that is making me run for the beach. Throw that on top of a culture built on rudeness, on waving your middle finger at anyone that doesn't move fast enough for you, on thinking that it's acceptable to scream "fuck you and your [insert racial slur here] sucking mother!" to a stranger and have no one look at you twice, and you can see why I think it's time to move on.

On to a place where I can wear my flip flops to work, where I don't have to wear a suit to court, where "sorry I'm late, I was surfing this morning and a huge wave knocked the shit out of me" is an acceptable excuse to give your boss. To a place where the sushi is fresh and the tacos are made with lobster, not because it's fancy, but because even the bums appreciate good lobster. On to a place where the millionaires drive hybrid cars, not because it's cool or because they can fit into more parking spaces, but because they actually care about gas prices and the environment. Onto a place where I can cross the street and call someone's mother a whore, and actually hear a woman gasp in horror.