My triumphal return to the land of my youth was painfully short lived, but good nonetheless. The weather was perfect. Of course, it's been pouring since the moment I left, and we all know what that means in LA. Utter mayhem. Bryce called last night to tell me that there were four inches of standing water on the freeway when he drove to Hollywood. The funny thing about a city with such great weather? It can't handle a storm. The LA Basin just doesn't drain. Hurray for flooding.=) Weather.com seems to think that the rain will stop just in time to allow the Rose Parade to continue its 50 year run of clear skies. There are a few too many "don't rain on my parade" jokes to be made, and I'm not funny enough to make them happen. All I can say is that the city of Pasadena has quite obviously struck some sort of a deal with the devil.

Anyway, back to the trip home. It was low-key and fun. It reminded me a lot of college breaks actually, just driving around Orange County to hit random spots. Happily, I got to see some people I missed sorely, though Eliza had to cancel. That's ok, it's not like I live 3,000 miles away... There was the obligatory trip to Belmont Shore, and a happy return to the Bolsa Chica Wetlands, in addition to the discovery of the Fullerton youth hostel (can we say creepy?), and a drive down the skeeziness that is Beach Blvd. I know that the area between Bryce's house and that of my parents isn't exactly south county or anything, but the neighborhoods certainly aren't bad enough to make you expect such a high concentration of sleazy motels and topless bars. Beach is just an odd strip of trashiness running through the lower-middle class suburbs of north-central Orange County. Eeew. Luckily the treck was punctuated with a visit to Sandi's tamale party. Little Natalie is cuter and more adorable every time I see her, and the tamales were predictably delicious. All in all it was the best possible scenario for seeing an ex-boyfriend. I do find it odd that none of his friends (all of whom I knew from high school) really acknowledged my presence. Oh well, I was kind of an intruder on their turf. Either way, Sandi was lovely and Kelly and Bryce were initiated into the fabulousness that is the Ishii household at Christmas time.

I've already expounded on the joy that was being home and with family. I will add however, that there is something to be said for being able to just fly away. I love my sister and parents, but was not meant to live in close proximity to them. Therese and I have been getting along amazingly well lately, but that didn't stop us from being ready to physically harm each other after an hour or two of shopping. Even if we've both changed and grown up, we still represent very different views of life, and I think that I make assumptions and have expectations that lead me to offend her and come off like a snob. Meanwhile, we take those assumptions and expectations that I don't realize I have and add Therese's somewhat different assumptions and lower expectations, and I become vaguely homicidal. The good thing I can say about spending time with my sister even when we're pissing each other off, is that it points out to me the variations in points of view that exist in this world. I think that in our case the difference was created by education and by the type of people we've met as a result of the situations we've placed ourselves in, but it's good to be aware of the alternate universe in which she seems to live.

I made the pilgrimage to see Janice on Friday. I'm more convinced now than ever that she's not ready to get married, but have decided to bite the bullet and play along. This means an extra $250 in airfare and whatever amount the bridesmaid's dress is going to cost me, but I think that it'll be repaid in good karma. Seeing Thomas and his friends I began to wonder if they were really that immature, or if it were true that men never grow up. Hanging out over at their apartment felt strangely like high school. I'm surprised nobody broke out the video games. I'm realizing more and more how many gender related stereotypes are true. I've tried to avoid them, but am now having it forced upon me that there are fundamental differences between men and women, and I need to learn to interpret. I wish I could have a translator on my shoulder when I'm talking to Frank. That might make it easier to discover whether the problem is a combination of stress and the fact that he's not an affectionate person or just that he's not that into me. Oh well, maybe some day I'll understand men, but in the meantime I'll try to refrain from playing into too many stereotypes.

Ok, I just realized how long this is getting, but I've got a lot on my mind. Maybe I'll think it over and post more later. For now I'll simply say that I'm in New Jersey, there's snow on the ground, and moving home after grad school is sounding more and more tempting with each passing day.