Vacationing in California is always interesting for me.

Within hours of landing in San Diego, I see the coast for the first time in forever and I’m suddenly willing to uproot everything I have back home and move here.

I spend the first few days pondering the logistics of it all: where I would move to, how that would affect my career goals, etc. After I do some preliminary Googling and number-crunching, my enchantment with the Golden Coast wears thin.

And by the last few days of our stay, I’m exhausted by this fast-paced lifestyle and ready to return to the less frantic life in Iowa.

Mind you, I’m not doing anything particularly exciting. We went to Disneyland and to the beach, but the majority of our vacation has been spent chilling at Grandma’s house, pigging out on junk food and enjoying our freedom from responsibility. But even when I’m vegging and doing my best impression of a bump on a log, there’s still this feeling of being rushed, of the world offering so much potential that we have to get up and go do it NOWNOWNOW!

In truth, it’s rather exhausting.

So, I’ve decided to compromise. Within the next 10 years or so, after I’ve earned my doctorate and we have some spare moolah, I want to rent a beach house for a month during the summer. Preferably the one in “Spanglish.” It’ll be the closest to a movie my life will ever get.

I’m about to ace a Chemistry test. I found an earring I thought I’d lost this morning. I looked in the mirror and found myself marveling at the gorgeous creature staring me in the face. I remembered enough HTML magic to make this pretty (although I’m not done tweaking it yet - I may try and get in the theme-making game).

Today is a good day, tater.