Im just saying

So here I sit, exactly 2,719 miles away from my apartment in Washington DC.  2,719.  I've been thinking about that number a lot today.  Many of you may know my disdain for the DC area.  I've been there for three years now and I have a whole litany of complaints.  Once you get to know the area, it seems a lot smaller than it claims to be.  I continously run into people I know, and I feel like there just aren't a ton of new places to check out.  Also, the population includes a large group of transient professionals- people who have moved in the area and don't really plan on being there long and aren't really from there.  There just seems to be a lack of true "Washingtonians" (not to be confused with all the people in the VA and MD suburbs).  Also there are a ton of suburbanites.  As a resident of Arlington County, I don't really have a problem with this except that a lot of these people refuse to go in to the city.  Yes, I know the 3 miles drive can be a pain, as can the $20 cab fare, but what's the point of living in the area and not venturing in to the city?

BUT, but but but but but, that is NOT the point of this.  Right now we are concentrating on the 2719 miles.  2719 miles between me and one of the simplest metro systems I've ridden.  The public transportation in San Diego seems pretty non exsistent, atleast around the beach area. 

2719 miles between me and my two favorite tapas restaurants and the only restaurant I know that sells authentic Indian street food.  It's weird being in a city and not having a place.  You know, the little bar or restaurant you go to when you just want to eat something you know is impeccable and exactly what you're craving.  That little place where you pretty much know the menu?  I'm not saying I haven't been to a ton of great places here in San Diego, but I still don't have "a place".  It's silly to make such a big deal about such a small thing, but I really miss having my set of places.  I'm definitely always interested in going to every new bar, club, restaurant etc I hear about, but I have this list of comfort places.  For instance, I bounce between two different bars a few blocks away when I'm grabbing my weekly drink with Ms. Petworth.  "The list"  includes the above mentioned restuarants, my Ethiopian place when I'm in the mood for some Shuro Watt, and the creperie down the street when I'm in the mood for, well, crepes! 

That's 2719  miles between me and most of my girlfriends from college, friends from Richmond, childhood and neighborhood friends, and all the new people I've met and becom close to.  Their lives are moving on.  Board exams, sexual harassment cases, new boyfriends, new jobs, trips around the globe-- the list goes on.  I still hear about everything but I wonder if I am missing out on the detailed happy hour confessions. 

That's 2,719 miles between me and I-95.  That's the highway that takes me home to my little sister and even littler brother.  My parents just remodeled the entire kitchen and I still don't even know what color the tiles are.  It's strange not having the comfort of knowing I can just hop in my car and be home in a few hours. That's truly a great highway.  I mean most of the major cities in this counry fall somewhere along that road.  Start in Boston, maybe at Jake Ivory's hysterically cheesy piano and  2 hours on 95S and you're in NYC.  Get back on 95 and in 2 more hours you're in Philly.  Another 2 and you're in Baltimore.  A little under another 2 and you're in DC.  Another 2 and you're in the capital of the confederacy and the NYTimes latest writeup, Richmond. 

And I'm not saying I don't love San Diego because I really, REALLY do.  I love living 2 blocks from the Pacific Ocean, and directly on the bay.  I love waking up in the morning and seeing sailboats pass by my window.  It's like some sort of dream that I haven't fully woken up from.  I love that the temperature is perfect, ALL THE TIME.  Even when people complain about the weather, it's still pretty great weather.  I love the fact that everyone seems to be outside and doing actual activities all the time.  Kayaking is not an event. but a pretty standard activity, like seeing a movie or something.  I look at my friends out here and I can see how much happier and healthier, mentally, emotionally, and physically, they all seem to be.  One of the guys I've met out here has this picture perfect life complete with the perfect H&G house, the perfect dog, a sailboat captain's liscense, and Volvo to complete the picture.  I mean, COME ON!  His life is so picture perfect I feel like the only thing missing is a frame.  Speaking of Volvos, I now know 2 people with Volvos and they both are in SD.  It's fitting since, much like Sweden, SD seems to be a location that shares that perfect perfection, you know, the kind where few problems exist but only to keep it from being creepy perfect.

But still, there's always that matter of 2,719 miles...