A NorCal Girl's Worst Nightmare

A Bay Area girl born-and-raised, I've spent the last 18 years being bred as a staunch NorCal zealot, ahem ~enthusiast~.

The serene vineyards of Napa Valley, the gorgeous trails of the Central Coast, and of course, THE city--San Francisco. Within the matter of a couple hours you can go from the beach, to the bay, to the city, to the mountains, to the lake. In my personal (and super unbiased) opinion, you could spend a lifetime in Northern California and still never discover all of its beauty. My words probs aren't doing it any justice. So if a picture's worth a thousand words, here's my quick, 3,000 word essay on NorCal:

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Coming to UCLA, I knew I would be traveling 5 and a half hours south, straight into enemy territory. I braced myself for the worst--LA traffic, the constant state of "late-ness" everyone seems to be in, and an aggressive amount of G Wagons.

But as much as I hate to admit it, the more time I spent, the more I found (to my utter disbelief) myself enjoying it. The traffic isn't so bad when you're looking out at some of the most beautiful beaches on the planet. I learned to appreciate the unspoken five minute grace period I have when I'm running late. I've even managed to distinguish my favorite G Wagon combination--matte black body, silver detailing, and black rims.

Quarter by quarter, I began realizing that I'm becoming a *gag* SoCal girl.

Now, I recognize that in making this statement I'm basically the Judas of Northern California, but before every human north of SLO tries to run me over in their Tesla, let me explain my rationale.

Picture this: it's December, and you've just finished your last class for the week. You've got nothing on your schedule for the weekend, and you're looking for a relaxing way to end the day. If you were in San Francisco, you'd grab ur Patagonia puffer and take a drive to Twin Peaks--watch the sunset from the car with the windows up, the seat warmers on, and blast the heat.

Now let's paint a different picture: You're not in San Francisco. You're in Brentwood, where it's 75 degrees and sunny. You throw on a swimsuit, and slide to Will Rogers State beach for a solid tanning sesh and some beach volleyball.