The other day someone accused of being from Pennsylvania. I was so flattered. I don't know what it is, but I've always want to be from where I'm not.

It all started in kindergarten. Of the many silly socialization games, there's always the Where Were You Born? game. I loved Santa Barbara, mind you. I loved it enough that two years later I was as pissed off as an eight year old can be when we moved to Northern California. However, that doesn't dictate that I'd be proud of my local origins at age six. A lot of the other kindergarteners weren't from Santa Barbara so the hell if I was gonna be for the Where Were You Born? game! So when the buck stopped at me I proudly said, "I was born in Holland." Yeah, maybe if I'd been born ten years earlier, but they didn't have to know that...details, details. Even I liked myself more after that! I was pretty cool all of a sudden.

OK, fine. So this was the start of my being a liar <lie>when absolutely necessary</lie> as well.

The move to Berkeley was traumatic, but at least I was finally not from where I was! Granted, that's a small consolation, but you need to find those silver linings where you can.

I thought the ten years of longing for the Southern California sun had cured me of my completely legitimate aversion to being from where I was from, but boy was I unprepared for what happened next! First of all, let me promise that yes, I was really this stupid my first day of college:

Random Dorm Person: So, what do you think of the dorm?
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: It's hella cool!
Random Dorm Person: Hey, you're from Gay Bay!
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: Huh? No I'm not. What's that?
Random Dorm Person: Gay Bay...you know...you're from Gay Bay!
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: Uh...no. I don't know what you mean.
Random Dorm Person: Gay Bay...The Gay Area...D'ya get it?
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: Umm...not really. What are you talking about?
Random Dorm Person: The Gay Area; The Bay Area. See?
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: Oh wow! How did you know that?
Random Dorm Person: You said "hella".
Ever-So-Stupid Madi: You mean you don't say "hella" here?

Talk about learning a lesson the hard way! Here I thought I was ready to face those roots I had kept so deeply buried last time I went through the first-day-of-school crap in Santa Barbara, but I had unknowingly become a person who wasn't from where she was...when for the first time ever I didn't want to be one! And overnight at that! (In Rip Van Winkle terms, anyhow).

So it turns out the lesson I thought I learned didn't stick because when the guy said, "Are you from Pennsylvania?" after I simply said, "I don't think they've unloaded the baggage yet" I felt such a rush! I conceded that I was a native Californian, but for a second I felt so exotic! Yes, I've been to Pennsylvania and wouldn't normally call it exotic, but if you don't understand my feeling this way, you really don't understand human nature at all.

I think this might tie in with my recent discovery that being a native Southern Californian is more a curse than a blessing. Some will say we're spoiled by the temperate weather, but it's more than that...it's crippling. I'm a great short-term visitor, but I could never survive most places for more than a couple days. I couldn't be from Pennsylvania in a million years! How depressing is that?

4/18/98