San Diego is such a time warp for me. I lived my early gay years there (1993-2000), and I go back every year to hang out with my family at Christmas.
I'm here now, and today my mom and I went to Target to get stocking stuffers for my nieces, and in the 45 minutes I was there, I saw a guy I dated for a couple months in 1998, a guy I had sex with at some point that I can't remember, and my friend Mark who was part of my extended raver family throughout the mid-90's. All this at Target!
In my first day back, here is what I saw while driving around the streets: strip malls, socks and sandals, a drag queen with a red beehive going nowhere in particular, hundreds of people drinking coffee at outdoor cafes, people riding bikes in shorts and tank tops in December, gays from ages 20-50 all wearing the same sports gear, hot marines, ugly marines, girls with big butts who are dating marines, men with moustaches on motorcycles, new lofts where empty parking lots used to be, lots of empty retail spaces with realtor signs in the window, cheap faux-mission tile rooftops on everything that'll stand still, yet another used clothing shop across the street from two older used clothing shops, and perpetual sunshine.
In the next week I am going to do all the same things I have done in San Diego for the last 14 years. I will go to my friend Vince's house and get drunk. I will go to a bar with my best friend Umecke and get drunk, and maybe eat. I will visit my mom's friends who have become my friends, Christopher and Michael, and we will eat at some trendy cafe and then get drunk. When I'm not drunk, I will be sitting in my mom's loft, just like I'm doing now, practicing alternate forms of relaxation (watching DVD's, reading the paper on the balcony, playing on the computer, taking a nap). This is life in San Diego.
I love it here. Absolutely love it. As long as I only come here 2-3 times each year, I can appreciate the magical blandness that makes me feel home.
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