It never rains in Southern California

I think I left my heart in Southern California. Oh, sweet sunshine that warms the whirring freeways in a cloudless sky, accept me as your devoted fan and know my heart is always with you. Forgive my hiatus - wait for me. Mighty 405, may your crowded multiplicity of lanes be ever-ready to carry me to every place I feel at home: the sand of Newport where I went to be quiet and watch waves, the swanky suburbs in Mission Viejo where I fell in love, dear Costa Mesa that I first knew, and my very heart, Disneyland.

Two weekends ago Husband and I went to Orange County for a wedding. As soon as I saw the layer of smog the plane would have to wrangle in order to land at LAX I felt at home. When we stepped out of the airport I experienced two sensations that I've rarely felt simultaneously since moving to Washington: being warm and being outside. This alone had me ready to cash in my return ticket for some In 'N Out burger. I left all jackets at home. I had no business with them.

A matter of hours after arriving I met a girl that lives in the same town I work in. She would be the bridesmaid ahead of me in the wedding. Apparently I have to go to California to meet my Washington neighbors. I knew I had to cash in on Neighbor girl. If I didn't snag her I deserved to be lonely. After some chatting at the bachelorette party (uh, no thanks, I don't think I can drink through that and retain my fidelity, I'll take a regular straw), I felt I had to move in. I did not feel the time was right to move in, because I really would have preferred waiting until I had said something especially funny or shown myself to be wildly talented and brilliant. I don't mean to be down on myself, but I'm already quiet at first, and since my bedtime is usually around 8:30, the nocturnal demands of the bachelorette party were especially hard on my woo-hoo levels. Also, once again, I felt the disadvantages of not drinking alcohol, though that might have had something to do with the fact that the bowling skills I retained from my 5th-grade end-of-the-year bowling party were still enough to win three games in a row. I tried my best to make it seem like the thing I was looking forward to most in life was not going to bed.

So anyway. I suggested we meet at Starbucks on my lunchbreak. She upgraded my offer by suggesting the Austrialian Pie place. I have always wanted to go there. It's a teeny tiny little yellow shop where you have your choice of hot, flaky, Austrailian pies. If there were ever more than eight people in the shop at a time the fire marshall would bring down the axe. Neighbor girl knows it? Likes it? Clearly, I'm going to enjoy hanging out with this girl. And I did. I had a lunch date. Our next adventure? Well, there's been talk of a taco shop...

I think I'm learning I need to let go of my demographic. Trying to make friends with young married people, or with people of similar interests, or who also love toasters is good, but it leaves a lot to be desired. I think it was about a month ago when Husband and I were coming home from our church's young adults' group *cough*youth group*cough* and I said that I didn't think I would ever feel like I fit in there. He simply asked me if that mattered. I was rather affronted. But I think he's right, (I HATE how often that happens) fitting in is not so very necessary.

With this in mind, I finally had the courage to do what I'd been told I was welcome to do - I invinted myself over to the lady that hosts Wednesday night prayer. She lives about three minutes from my house and oftentimes it's just me and her on Wednesday nights. She's a bit fiesty. She has a tendency for knick knacks that I've solemnly vowed to never allow myself. She has grandkids my age. She's my friend. I didn't realize how special it is to have someone that I could call and just pop over and present myself to without warning was until I didn't have it. That's a special relationship, and for her to tell me (previously) that I was welcome to do just that, really shows great open-heartedness and love. What meant the most to me was that, though I certainly had a wonderful time visiting her, I believe she had a good time with me as well. And that sort of sounds like a friendship, doesn't it?