The Big Frisky

(credit goes to Emily for the title of the post)

There's something hypnotizing about this place. You forget yourself walking around here. In a sense this is a big American metropolis like any other, but the people on the streets don't seem to be striving for something else, something out-of-reach. California is a destination, the sought-after land of milk and honey, of manifest destiny, the call of gold in the hills. It's appropriate to me that it's always earlier over here too. When Chicagoans wake up for work, San Franciscans are sleeping soundly, and when New Yorkers retire to bed, Californians have three hours over eternally temperate evening to enjoy.

However, what's missing for me is the sense of urgency that keeps one striving to push on and achieve something great. Also, when it's cold and rainy, or dry and blistering, or snowing and windy, it reminds me I'm alive. Perhaps this is appealing to my Midwestern, who am I to find something better? Lake Wobegon mentality, but as horrible as last winter was in Chicago, I don't know what I'd do with a winter without snow.

Come Back From San Francisco - the Magnetic Fields

Rock over St. Paul, Rock on Minneapolis
Staples - yeah, we've got that