Memory Lane via the 405 South
Yesterday was awesome. I went in (extremely) early & was off work by 11am, and I had absolutely NOTHING to do for the rest of the day. It just so happened that Stephen Malkmus was playing down in San Diego (my old stomping grounds) that evening. Since I was a big jerk and lagged on getting tix for the show in LA on Tuesday night, it was sold out and I've been pretty bummed out ever since. I mean, for god's sakes, I never even got a chance to see Pavement live (oh, the shame!) and the idea of going to San Diego sounded kinda rad. My friend, also of the old school SDSU clan, had the day off too, so after going back and forth with the idea, we figured, why the hell not? So the mini-road trip commenced.
It had been 3 years since I'd been to San Diego. The whole "San Diego situation" is kind of weird for me. In a nutshell, I had the most intense 4 years of my life thus far. And at the time when I finally left, I got the fuck out of there and never looked back. I kept in touch with 4 of the 500,000 friends I had down there, and that was perfectly fine with me. But it's been 3 years. And I was feeling nostalgic. And when that much time has passed, you start remembering some of the really, REALLY good times. So I decided it was lame to associate bad feelings with the place. I was nervous about running into some people, but when I started thinking about reasons why, I couldn't really come up with any answers. I don't even remember the details of the drama.
So we're getting down there, and as I'm on the freeway, things are looking familiar again. I'm remembering exits off the freeway and times and places associated with them. I'm seeing places I had completely forgotten about. And I'm getting even more excited to visit places it's been WAY TOO LONG since I've been.
The thing I kept tripping out on is that it hasn't changed a bit. Not at all. It looks exactly the same as it did three years ago when I was making my last trip with my shit piled in my trunk. I mean, I didn't expect drastic changes or anything, but atleast some sort of indication that a significant amount of time had passed. But in the same respect, it was such a cool feeling being SO familiar with everything in sight. It's really tough to explain.
One of the main things I kept thinking about was how small everything looked. I mean, the 8 is such a cute little petite freeway. The 163 still has 2 lanes and lots of trees. The only big shocker was when we got off on University Ave. in Hillcrest and didn't see "GayMart" right off the freeway exit. Ha. I'll never forget GayMart. (Rest assured, it hasn't moved, it's just being remodeled.)
So we pick up my friend's brother, and we head on down to Ocean Beach (affectionately referred to as 'OB') and we couldn't have arrived a second sooner. It was GREAT to be back. I love that place. It's just a beach that you can go to and you don't have to worry about what you look like in a bikini, how many more people have gone to the tanning salon to get their "base tan" started (while you strip down to your white ass in a frumpy 1-piece) like in the meatmarket-type beach cities of Orange County (Oh how I loathe Newport and Huntington Beach!). OB is just good people, good food, and cheap drinks. They have a rad Farmer's Market. You can even bring your dog. It's what going to the beach is all about. During the daytime you'll always see people down there just having a good time, rather than just sizing up the passers-by or flaunting your expensive car/sound system/personal trainer shaped body/$1,000 designer swimwear, etc. I'm not even all that much of a stroll-down-the-shore-and-collect-seashells type of person, but there's just something about OB that's so carefree.
So we roll into Pacific Shores. One of my most favorite places ever. It's a small cozy bar with paintings of fish and mermaids and starfish on black walls illuminated by a black light. There's about 5 circular shaped booths, Regal Beagle style, and every drink (well just about every drink) is TWO DOLLARS. You can order a Tom Collins, a Malibu and Pineapple, a Vodka Tonic...whatever your little alcohol craving mind can imagine, and you're not gonna drop over 2 bucks. You just sit down, feeling like you're at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance in Back to the Future and shoot the shit for hours if you like. My friend was able to meet up with me there, and we gabbed on and on like the catty shit-talking bitches that we are. We hugged and squealed and told each other how great we looked and laughed 'til my sides hurt.
After a few cocktails, we were a bit hungry and thought we should grab a bite before the Malkmus show. All day I just wanted to hit up a greasy Mexican food joint--the kind that are only found in San Diego--and get a hardcore Carne Asada burrito with just the basics: Meat, Onions, Cilantro, (a lil' bit of tomatoes) and HOT sauce. Mission accomplished. I was completely content, and this was even before I got to the show.
Awesome day.
Malkmus review later. I'm sleepy.
It had been 3 years since I'd been to San Diego. The whole "San Diego situation" is kind of weird for me. In a nutshell, I had the most intense 4 years of my life thus far. And at the time when I finally left, I got the fuck out of there and never looked back. I kept in touch with 4 of the 500,000 friends I had down there, and that was perfectly fine with me. But it's been 3 years. And I was feeling nostalgic. And when that much time has passed, you start remembering some of the really, REALLY good times. So I decided it was lame to associate bad feelings with the place. I was nervous about running into some people, but when I started thinking about reasons why, I couldn't really come up with any answers. I don't even remember the details of the drama.
So we're getting down there, and as I'm on the freeway, things are looking familiar again. I'm remembering exits off the freeway and times and places associated with them. I'm seeing places I had completely forgotten about. And I'm getting even more excited to visit places it's been WAY TOO LONG since I've been.
The thing I kept tripping out on is that it hasn't changed a bit. Not at all. It looks exactly the same as it did three years ago when I was making my last trip with my shit piled in my trunk. I mean, I didn't expect drastic changes or anything, but atleast some sort of indication that a significant amount of time had passed. But in the same respect, it was such a cool feeling being SO familiar with everything in sight. It's really tough to explain.
One of the main things I kept thinking about was how small everything looked. I mean, the 8 is such a cute little petite freeway. The 163 still has 2 lanes and lots of trees. The only big shocker was when we got off on University Ave. in Hillcrest and didn't see "GayMart" right off the freeway exit. Ha. I'll never forget GayMart. (Rest assured, it hasn't moved, it's just being remodeled.)
So we pick up my friend's brother, and we head on down to Ocean Beach (affectionately referred to as 'OB') and we couldn't have arrived a second sooner. It was GREAT to be back. I love that place. It's just a beach that you can go to and you don't have to worry about what you look like in a bikini, how many more people have gone to the tanning salon to get their "base tan" started (while you strip down to your white ass in a frumpy 1-piece) like in the meatmarket-type beach cities of Orange County (Oh how I loathe Newport and Huntington Beach!). OB is just good people, good food, and cheap drinks. They have a rad Farmer's Market. You can even bring your dog. It's what going to the beach is all about. During the daytime you'll always see people down there just having a good time, rather than just sizing up the passers-by or flaunting your expensive car/sound system/personal trainer shaped body/$1,000 designer swimwear, etc. I'm not even all that much of a stroll-down-the-shore-and-collect-seashells type of person, but there's just something about OB that's so carefree.
So we roll into Pacific Shores. One of my most favorite places ever. It's a small cozy bar with paintings of fish and mermaids and starfish on black walls illuminated by a black light. There's about 5 circular shaped booths, Regal Beagle style, and every drink (well just about every drink) is TWO DOLLARS. You can order a Tom Collins, a Malibu and Pineapple, a Vodka Tonic...whatever your little alcohol craving mind can imagine, and you're not gonna drop over 2 bucks. You just sit down, feeling like you're at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance in Back to the Future and shoot the shit for hours if you like. My friend was able to meet up with me there, and we gabbed on and on like the catty shit-talking bitches that we are. We hugged and squealed and told each other how great we looked and laughed 'til my sides hurt.
After a few cocktails, we were a bit hungry and thought we should grab a bite before the Malkmus show. All day I just wanted to hit up a greasy Mexican food joint--the kind that are only found in San Diego--and get a hardcore Carne Asada burrito with just the basics: Meat, Onions, Cilantro, (a lil' bit of tomatoes) and HOT sauce. Mission accomplished. I was completely content, and this was even before I got to the show.
Awesome day.
Malkmus review later. I'm sleepy.