I want to move to San Diego.

This post is super delayed, but I think that's the story of my life.

I went down to the beautiful San Diego to visit K for the Fourth.

See, I love the Fourth of July. Back home when I was a kid, it was hot, but we would go to Scout Park and lay out our blankets in the grass to let the mosquitoes eat us while we waited for the fireworks. It meant baby brother and dad were handing out watermelon with the Boy Scouts, so if you waited until the right moment, it was really easy to snag half a watermelon.
I love watermelon.
Then the fireworks would start.
I love fireworks.
Now that I've seen fireworks in other places, ours were never huge. But they were awesome. There's something about small projectiles exploding up in the air in a bunch of different colors while they make a bunch of different noises. The ones that crackle. The ones that whistle. My mom's favorite are the big ones that look like a weeping willow, or the ones that burst twice, sending little lights all over the sky. My dad likes the noisy ones, the ones that you feel deep in your chest and set off all of the car alarms. Oohs, ahhs.
Once I was in college, we didn't want to wait for hours or fight the traffic to get in town. So we would stay out of town, get Baskin Robbins, and watch them from camping chairs on the sidewalk.
It's just an awesome holiday. Everyone's excited, and it's just so much fun.

So, for obvious reasons, I wanted to have a blast for the Fourth. So I took the fifth off, and flew down to San Diego early, early Thursday morning. K was kind enough to host a get together at her house, so we had hot dogs, and hamburgers, and pool time, and red, white and blue streamers, and country music, and of course, some beer. A bunch of the ADPi girls came, so I got to see B, M, J, C, and another C. It was a blast and a half. We watched the fireworks from a park. It was gorgeous all day. It was amazing.

Friday morning, I went surfing with D, a friend from high school who I haven't seen in YEARS. It was at this point I absolutely decided I need to move to San Diego, or at least somewhere with a beach.
I loved surfing. Loved it.
Even if it didn't love me.
I got beat up. I had three pretty gnarly bruises, one on each thigh and one on my collarbone, from catching fin when I got dumped. And oh, did I get dumped. On my face, sideways, upside down and backwards. I'm pretty sure I swallowed half of the ocean, and the other half went up my nose. I don't even know what happened. I don't know if I learned how to surf, but I sure learned how to protect myself when I fell off. I also forgot to factor in that my daily sunscreen wasn't waterproof, so let's just say I was lobster-esque at the end of the morning.
That's a lie. I did get up a few times, which D said was pretty awesome. So, I'll take his word for it.
It was an amazing morning. D and I ended up just sitting on the surfboards and talking for a while. It was amazingly calm. And just amazing in general.

After surfing, K, B, J, C, and I went to the beach. This was the second point I absolutely decided I need to move to San Diego, or at least somewhere with a beach. This time I put sunscreen on.
I love the beach. And the ocean.
Beach and ocean just work really well with me. I love the water. Always have, always will. I love being able to walk around without shoes on. Or without pants, because pants are lame.

That night we went to In Cahoots, the bar that Toby Keith supposedly wrote the song about. It was a lot of fun. It was weird to try and dance there. They danced more traditionally; I've learned more progressive and modern stuff. Also, line dances are regional, so I'd be ready to jump in on something, and then would do something completely different. I still had a blast. Country bars always put me in a good mood.

Saturday morning, B left, and K had work (she's such a responsible adult.) So B, J, C, and I got breakfast at Coco's, which was magical. Then J, C and I went to the beach, which is forever and always magical. The whole crew went out that night; shenanigans were had by all.

Sunday morning was nice and slow. K and I eventually got up and had breakfast with the whole crew from Saturday night. Then we sat outside and read our books. Which is the point where I decided I need to move to San Diego. It just needs to happen.

That afternoon I got a late lunch/early dinner with D, my friend from my Germany trip. We hung out for a few hours before I had to be at the airport. It was awesome to catch up, attempt to speak some German, and steal some German music from him. ;)

That weekend was just all around amazing. In every way.

So, I want to move.
Not anytime soon, after graduation, maybe.