A couple of weeks back, I went with Not-Boyfriend* to a Halloween party in the Valley. I had a pleasant time, of course (in fact, a downright fun time) but that's neither here nor there. What is pertinent is the journey. And I actually mean that in a non-cheesy sense.
See, most of the time I can forget I am in SoCal. I mean, I can't delude myself into thinking I am in Indiana, or even Florida, but here in Sunnydale--humble, unpretentious, low-income Sunnydale--it's easy to carry on a life, isolated from the rest of Southern California and the values and pop culture and stuff. But when I venture beyond the Empire, it all kinda hits home, suddenly, violently, rudely.
Example: when Not-Boyfriend and I approached Los Angeles, we started passing exits for Hollywood, Ventura Blvd....all those names that I've heard all my life, through all mediums of media and pop culture, and yet never paused to really think about, because they never impinged on my Floridiot-cum-Hoosier existence. I had never even visited California before this year, for pity's sake. Anyway, passing all those exits, with those very-familiar names, suddenly brought home to me where I was. Southern California. How odd, I thouht, with the alarming detachment that seems to hover in my spirit these days. Detachment gave way to a slight bit of panic, instantly quelled, and the dangerous thought, "How the HELL did I end up here?"
The feeling passed, and I tried to focus on enjoying the evening. Later, after the party, Not-Boyfriend gave me with a real treat; he took me on a drive up something called "Black Canyon Road." The road went high up over some mountains, and eventually he stopped the car and presented me with a breathtaking, glittering view of Simi Valley--a vast world of twinkling lights, distant and indifferent to my existence, yet terribly relevant and comforting to me. Millions of people were in those lights, and it was a wonderful thing to see on a Saturday night in October, when I questioned the sanity of my moving here.
It doesn't matter. I am here, and I am part of those twinkling lights. Even out here in Sunnydale.
*I call him Not-Boyfriend because if I had to describe his relation to me, I think the closest I could get would be "Boyfriend". But he's not my boyfriend, so therefore, he's my Not-Boyfriend. What the hell else am I supposed to call someone whom I have been seeing for three months, but have no idea where the hell it's going because I'm too chicken-shit to ask?
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