Sweet Home San Diego

My pant leg is still damp from a miscalculated wave, my phone is gritty with sand, and the TSA agent shoots me a wierd look as the shells fall out of my jacket pocket going through security at the airport. Yeah, it was a good day to drop down to San Diego. Especially when Sac was about 42 degrees, winds gusting up to 60 mph. Although the sun didn't quite break through the high cloud cover in San Diego (which I could correctly identify as sirius clouds thanks to a recent Cranium tournament at my sister's), I still needed my sunglasses and seagulls cast shadows on the sand.

But I almost didn't go because of the travel snob I've turned out to be. Flights to more interesting destinations were too overbooked for stand-by travel that weekend. I kept plugging in Feb. 15th for my return date, confused as to why so many people were flying that weekend. Then the significance of the date sank in. Alright, so I guess some people may still be gooeily romantic enough to take their sig-ots (significant others) away for the weekend. Or maybe there really were that many guys trying to skip town to avoid the inevitable complications caused by the unrealistic expectations that we females have attached to V-day. Anyway, I had to 'settle' for San Diego for a few hours on that Monday. I had a bit of an attitude, feeling it didn't really count as one of my travel goals; after all, I had lived there off and on for several years. But what a bratty snob...here I am, fortunate enough to skip out of Sacramento where the weather is low 40s, rainy, gusting winds, and I'm COMPLAINING???? I quickly developed my top five reasons for flying to San Diego for the day:

1. Trade wind, rain, cold to visit a town known for being 74 and sunny.

2. I need a new sea-shell inspired necklace.

3. Just 10 minutes of breathing the alchemy of seaweed and salt in the coastal breeze at Ocean Beach is worth 3 hours of recirculated airplane cabin air.

4. Yes, Kono's Cafe potatos really are that good.

5. Sand between my toes is like fine wine for my soul.

How blessed am I that I can walk through security with a small backpack and take a day trip to the most beautiful city on the west coast (fine, argue me here) just for these simplest of reasons. I promptly adjust my attitude and have a wonderful, but bittersweet, time. This was where I began my married life. When the 737 turns on final approach for the airport, I can look down on our first apartment, and the garage where we used to stand at night to watch the fireworks going off at Sea World. I drive past the Chinese restaurant where we always had our New Years Eve dinner and made our resolutions. I have lunch at Kono's Cafe by Crystal Pier, where we would always took our visiting relatives. We bought our first house here in San Diego. I survived the hell that was dental hygiene school in San Diego. And twice, we moved away. Sometimes I irrationally wonder if we would still be married if we had just stayed in San Diego. But we did move, and now I have to move on in life. So everytime I go back to visit, it feels like an uncomfortable reunion with an ex. Such intimate familiarity, but now there's the awkwardness of having to ask politely for a glass of water or to use the restroom. As if I wasn't the one who picked out the glasses at the department store, or painted the bathroom with my own hands. Being in San Diego reminds me so much of the innocence of our early married life, the dreams, the goals, the uncomplicatedness of being together; after all, those years really were good ones. The more recent scars are healing, but will always leave that tell-tale puckered keloid tissue that speaks of damage.

So I walk the beach, grateful for the experiences and memories that God has blessed me with, and celebrate this season of wholeness that my future promises. Both locals and tourists alike wear sweatshirts, shorts, and flipflops. True to form, I have my snowboard parka on, desperately want to pull the hood up and cinch it around my ears. But I'm afraid that I'll be banned, losing my honorary san dieganite status for life. I let the breeze nip my ears, I enjoy the saltiness of the Kono's potatoes while smelling the saltiness of the ocean's breath. This will always be home to my soul, and healing for my wounds.