Welcome to LA

So here I am in LA. Eleven years after I was dying to go to UCLA (but wasn't willing to pay out-of-state tuition), I finally arrive in SoCal, at Fuller (only to pay private school tuition, go figure). I keep wondering what I would have been like now if I'd come here at the tender age of 18, rather than the slightly-less-tender-and-more-jaded age of 29. Which parts of personality are latent, like paint-by-numbers artwork that's just waiting for the brush to apply water and reveal what's been there all the time? Or is it more like watercolor, an original artwork formed bit-by-bit, unknown before it exists? Would I have been shaped differently, having been here over the last defining decade? For example, would I actually enjoy spending time at the beach? Would I wear cuter shoes and more makeup? Would I think honking my horn was a reasonable action to take toward another human being? Would I recycle less?

I'm surprised at how often, during orientation week, we allowed the answer to the question "where are you from?" to define us and pave the way for our future friendships. If I only had 30 seconds to make a first impression, I quickly put forth my Seattle/Berkeley roots to speak for me, for the things I couldn't elaborate on in the not-unlike-speed-dating environment: interests, political leanings, climate preference, driving habits, outdoor proclivities, theological stance, music preferences, beer selection.... Some people are racist, but I am discovering how much of a self-righteous geographist I am. I made a mental note of the northwesterners (call these people soon), SoCal natives (dismiss the cute, perky ones), the midwesterners (Illinois and Michigan make the cut, Iowa not so much) and the nebulous Philadelphians (could go either way... not enough geographical baggage to pin down just yet).

Anyhow, here I am. Still in awe of the palm trees lining my street, the fact that it occasionally gets above 75 degrees and I should buy a second pair of shorts, and the ads for liposuction constantly droning on both English and Spanish radio stations. I've hunted down local Ultimate games and the nearest REI. I found the entrance to the secret parking lot at Trader Joe's. I now own a coffee grinder.

Bring it on.