From Coast to Coast

I arrived at LAX 1AM PST. Needless to say that I was tired because my body told me it was actually 4am. Although one of the first things I saw as I groggily navigated my way towards the luggage pickup was a familiar face, a five foot picture of Mayor Villaraigosa, I still felt like I was in a different world.

Whereas everyone else was in brightly colored tshirts, sandals, and miniskirts, I was wearing a gray wool cable knit sweater, a scarf, and boots. To complete the stereotype of the intellectually snobby East Coast persona, I was even listening to a podcast of "Meet the Press."

Yet, as I was moving to the right side of the escalator, I realized that I could stand on whatever side of the escalator I darn well pleased. There wasn't a standing side or a walking side. And when I got to the sliding doors to the outside, there wasn't a cold blast of air like I've grown accustomed to. It was warm. 60 degrees at 1am I found out. Even if I somewhat felt like a foreigner, I realized I was home.

As I was sitting out on a bench waiting for my parents, I actually wondered if I've really changed that much in a few months. My late night/early morning epiphany was that I hadn't. Lifestyle-wise, I've always been a little out of place of the traditional So Cal person. My style was a little more preppy with loafers, argyle, and oxford shirts. My personality was more uptight, I guess you would say, than relaxed. And what made me feel a little out of place yesterday wasn't new either. My gray sweater wasn't new, nor was my addiction to political news. But the great part of Southern California is that people are so laid back they don't care who you are or who you pretend to be. They'll accept this wanna-be-turned-semi-East-Coaster.