Clouds in California

I’m 22 and a recent college graduate with the mask of “I’m taking a gap year while applying to graduate school” concealing the confused smile behind my seemingly convincing facade. I am spending the summer living in my sister’s apartment in Carlsbad, California because my mom was sure it would help me “think.” The thought of thinking more than I already do makes me want to personally remove the exhaustive machine that is my brain. I find myself imagining Charlie Chaplin’s character, The Tramp from Modern Times winding himself around the cogs and wheels that have been arranged throughout my mind. Anyway, now that I have established how Charlie Chaplin continually envelops my mind I can return to California. It’s a dream, a world I have always longed to live in complete with Matcha tea, nature, art, and anything vegetarian. As I have spent time here, I have come to terms with the fact that it’s not always where you are that will change you or in my case, your thoughts…it might make more sense to anyone who may come across this blog to understand that I spent the past four years of college studying. I know, I know who spends four years of college hitting the books on Friday night and getting up early on Saturday morning to study? This girl. I can still hear my sister’s laughter as I told her how I pulled an all-nighter for a paper on Saturday night (a perfectly reasonable night of the week to stay up I thought). My idea of a study break was going to the grocery store with my mother on Sunday afternoon. Oh, and to make things more interesting and my social life more understandable (or lack thereof) I was a commuter and I lived at home with my mom, dad, little brother, three cats, and yellow lab Reece.

Every one of those years I found myself wanting to leave. Leave the comfort of my home and the town I had lived in for the past sixteen years. The town where everyone knows my family and my grandmother. The town where I can’t go to the grocery store without hearing, “Are you Becky’s daughter?” or “You look just like your mother!” The town where my elementary, middle, high school, and college are all ten minutes from each other. My life spans across twenty minutes of street in that town.

I grew up wanting to work in film so California has always been a place I have wanted to live. When I was ten I slapped a Hollywood poster above my bed and painted my room sunshine yellow. As I got older I matured into an elegantly framed Forrest Gump film poster and a laminated Casablanca print. I had Cool Hand Luke as well as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid stacked by my bed and anything Paul Newman I could find. I took film classes in college and worked as a videography intern because I felt that much closer to the art even while being in this small city that was so far from what I had always imagined that I wanted. I thought it hard to envision myself ever being able to come to California for more than a vacation because well, I’m not a billionaire (plot twist). Now that I am here and I have this opportunity it is almost like I don’t know what to do with it or how to handle it. Of course, I could do the responsible thing and study for the GRE cause you know, I haven’t studied enough in my life. I don’t want to waste more of my life staring at a book and while this sounds like my cue to break out into a Beauty and the Beast song about wanting more this is not that kind of blog…apologies to all those Disney fans. The lingering thought of heading home stays with me like a dryer sheet that refuses to peel off your clothing until someone finally yanks it off. I feel as though I want to keep the sheet on for some time and see how long I can go without someone noticing. I think I may have gone a little too far with the dryer sheet, but you know what I mean!

Well, that’s my uneventful story for the time being…apologies for the length, but thanks for reading if you made it this far!