Ode to the City of Angels

LAX. The mecca for yuppie businessmen and girls with fake boobs, among other things. Oh LAX, where there is a Starbucks at almost every terminal and beer flows plentifully like water. Everything is overpriced and overrated.

Earlier that day (before the LAX situation) I had driven down to San Clemente to hit up the Rainbow Sandles store, which, by the way, is not open on Sundays. On a side-note, the CA-73 toll road is a JIP!! It cost me $3.75 to drive 18 miles from the 405 to the 5. Supposedly it's faster, but I beg to differ. It's not worth my 3 bucks to drive through the mountains instead of around them. I'm convinced it's a giant conspiracy by the state of California to rob people blind. My suspicions were only enhanced by an article I read later in the OC Weekly about a group raising money to stop California from building toll roads through state parks. HA! I knew it. Here's the article. (http://www.ocweekly.com/news/toll-road-rage/toll-road-rage/25673/)

So, San Clemente is gorgious...FYI. I parked my rental, a brand spankin' new Chevy HHV, dark blue, with only 6 miles on it, in the free downtown parking, the free part being a major bonus. I meandered though the quaint downtown area, passing small family businesses, law offices, realty places, and mom and pop diners and ice cream shops. I strolled along the pier, watching the surfers as they swam out to meet the waves. It had a rhythmic sense to it. Swim out. Catch a wave. Ride it for as long as possible. Repeat until exhausted. There were fathers teaching their sons how to fish over the pier. The sons had smiles on their faces as they gazed longingly at their fathers who, I can imagine, were like heros in that moment. The sun felt like a soft kiss on the cheek, and the wind smelled of fish bait and and salt. I found a bench and settled in to watch the waves crest over and foam just before rushing into the beach, met by squeeling teenagers skim boarding across the water.

I pulled out my Bible and started to read from Ephesians. Paul knew how to stick it to them didn't he. I felt a sense of conviction as I read about being one in love, and how we should cast off any backbiting or mean talk. I'm a woman. I thought that was a prerecquesite for wearing a bra. I looked out at the surfers again. 'I'm not very good at this one', I thought. Darn it.

I nestled my Bible back in my gray messanger bag and began to walk back along the pier toward the beach. I retraced my steps up the hills through town, stopping at a coffee shop for a bagel and italian soda. Bagel plain, toasted with cream cheese-Raspberry Soda topped with delicious whipped cream. I found a spot along the sidewalk at one of the cafes outside patio tables and enjoyed my bagel while reading the OC Weekly. Almost every page was filled with plastic surgery ads and personal chat line ads. Gross. I've never felt so inadequite. I did read that article about tool roads though, illuminating to say the least. I also read about this guy who bought an ice cream truck and travels around to concerts to give out free ice cream. He breaks even by getting corporate sponsorship from ice cream companies. How cool is that! (http://www.ocweekly.com/food/food/we-all-scream-for-ice-cream/25677/)

I'm out like a light.

So what

Sometimes I get lonely. It's odd really, that this would occur in my life, but it's true. It has taken me 25 years to admit to the fact that, on ocassion, I get that feeling in my stomach. The one that feels like I just jumped out a plane and am falling 10,000 feet to my death. Not to be dramatic or anything.

I'm flying home in a few days for my Mom's 50th birthday. Going home reminds me of how weird my family is. Trust me. They take the cake. But I realized something this week that has changed my life. They're mine-no one elses. My family. I have the privilage of having a very...off-kilter family. So what if my Mom rented trailers for her friends and family to stay on while they're in town for the party. So what if my stepdad works at the swap meet on his free time. So what if my grandparents will get a little too excited about the open bar, will then proceed to get tipsy an hour into the party and begin spilling family secrets to us all as loudly as possible. So what. They're my family, and I love them. I love them for every weird thing they do. I wouldn't trade them for any other family. They keep my life interesting.