Six Months Later . . .

I've become a bit California.

I never thought of myself as a Southern California person. I mean, don't get me wrong, sprawling beaches and 75-with-an-ocean-breeze 9 months out of the year is nothing to scoff at. I just always saw myself in a different place - you know, downtown-Manhattan-sans-car-loft-apartment-walking-everywhere-in-designer-heels-checking-out-art-galleries-and-boutique-openings.

Not to be too specific.

So imagine my own surprise when it hit me -

I. Dig. Southern. California.

I might be speaking too soon, since beaches and sunshine during the yuletide months might very well throw me into a downward spiral the likes of which California hasn't seen since Lohan and Barton returned to LA.

But for now, I'll revel in my contentedness. Namely for the following reasons:

1. Frozen Yogurt - People, it's worth moving here. Fro-Yo shops are like hot dog vendors in Chicago (only healthier and served by a long-haired 19 year-old surfer). I eat at least one a day. Sometimes, it's two. Okay, it has been known to take up all three of my major meals.

2. Surfing - In a shocking twist that even I wasn't prepared for, I. Totally. Heart. Surfing. Granted, as yet, all I have to show for it is a few scrapes, a wetsuit that's too big for me, bruises on my knees, hips and ribs, and up to 6 glorious seconds of actually standing up on the board.

3. Sunsets - Before moving to California I could NEVER have written a proper personal ad, as I had no appreciation for sunsets and walks on beaches. But seriously people. Seriously. That's all I can say.

4. Decent Drivers - because I'm still not one of them. I appreciate that they are defensive enough to stay out of my way.

5. My recent affinity for flat sandals and Chucks - my feet (and podiatrist) thank you, California fashion.

6. Strangers who propose to me on the street - And I thought I could never find a guy who would commit.

7. Blessed Produce - Ain't no berry like a west-coast berry.

8. Cooking - due to that nagging little requirement that I pay my rent, thus wrenching my prior habit of obtaining every meal from a restaurant, I have become quite a little cook. If you think this makes me more of an eligible young lady, well, so did I. I'll let you know if anyone else decides to second that.

Lest you fear I've completely changed my character, I will follow up shortly with a pessimistic view of everything lame about the Golden State.