I LOVE living in Pittsburgh. I love the rivers, the neighborhoods, the museums, the libraries, the funny sayings, and the inclination to put french fries on EVERYTHING. That said, from time to time, I get a little homesick for my native California. When the NASA Shuttle Endeavor was making it’s way to the California Science Center in Los Angeles last month, my facebook feed was blowing up with my friend’s sightings, pictures, and videos. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Then I had an identity crisis. Am I still a Californian even if I don’t actually live in California anymore?
Granted, I’ve never really been your typical Californian. I have never had a driver’s license. I eat red meat. I don’t do yoga. I can’t stand beach sand and avoid direct sunlight at all cost. As you can imagine, I’m a far cry from Katy Perry’s narrow definition of a California Gurl. But then again, so are most of the women I know in California. Have you ever been to San Francisco? That place is way too cold for daisy dukes and bikini tops- even in the middle of the summer!
Although I now consider Pittsburgh my home, I know that I really am a Californian at heart. How do I know? I know because I will probably never break the habit of calling every person “dude”, I know what fruitarianism means, and I have lived through enough earthquakes that I don’t feel safe without a “Go Bag” stashed in my house stuffed with dollar bills and can openers- just in case! But now when I start to feel homesick, I’ll just go read some books that take place in my home state:
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