East Coast Tęsknić
They say you can take the girl out of Jersey, but you can't take Jersey out of the girl. I left New Jersey when I was about seven years old, so I don't remember much about the Garden State, although little things trigger my memory; words like: Marlboro, Colts Neck, Lincroft, Middletown, 11 Burdge Drive, 957-0105.
I think it was this childhood nostalgia that made me think I'd end up on the East Coast when I went to college. But being young and impetuous, a waitlist from NYU wasn't enough and the tuition from Boston University poked at my Chinese guilt -- so I went to California for my education instead.
It's one of life's strange ironies when you meet your college roommate and discover you could have very nearly been roommates at a different college, had you both chosen to accept it. Shree and I had both been accepted to Boston University, but we both chose to go to UC Davis instead (go Aggies!). A decade or so later, she is one of my friends who are west coast transplants on the East Coast.
It's only after living in California for so long, and visiting the East Coast at least once a year for more than a decade, that it's been truly apparent how apparent this bicoastal love affair is. I have friends and family from both coasts who've "switched sides." In some ways, my boyfriend and I also former East Coast "Nu-Californians," although we've both lived in California for a good part of our lives now.
I still think about the East Coast when there's a chill in the air. Something about fall and the hustle bustle. I think it has to do with when I first returned to the U.S. and started making trips to New York in November and March. Or maybe it has to do with watching Home Alone 2 way too many times in my childhood. Either way, there's a strange feeling of "homecoming" I feel every time I'm able to make a trip back east. Nostalgia is a strange beast. It coats even the most foreign of environments and calls it "home."
I think it was this childhood nostalgia that made me think I'd end up on the East Coast when I went to college. But being young and impetuous, a waitlist from NYU wasn't enough and the tuition from Boston University poked at my Chinese guilt -- so I went to California for my education instead.
It's one of life's strange ironies when you meet your college roommate and discover you could have very nearly been roommates at a different college, had you both chosen to accept it. Shree and I had both been accepted to Boston University, but we both chose to go to UC Davis instead (go Aggies!). A decade or so later, she is one of my friends who are west coast transplants on the East Coast.
It's only after living in California for so long, and visiting the East Coast at least once a year for more than a decade, that it's been truly apparent how apparent this bicoastal love affair is. I have friends and family from both coasts who've "switched sides." In some ways, my boyfriend and I also former East Coast "Nu-Californians," although we've both lived in California for a good part of our lives now.
I still think about the East Coast when there's a chill in the air. Something about fall and the hustle bustle. I think it has to do with when I first returned to the U.S. and started making trips to New York in November and March. Or maybe it has to do with watching Home Alone 2 way too many times in my childhood. Either way, there's a strange feeling of "homecoming" I feel every time I'm able to make a trip back east. Nostalgia is a strange beast. It coats even the most foreign of environments and calls it "home."