Bay Area, California
I did wish they could all be California girls. Until I was living there again that is. Then I found out that they’re like avocados; they are just not… ripe? They sit there, and you wait forever for them to mature into what you expect. (You know the perfectly toned, beach-blonde bombshell.) It’s only when you look away that they become the pinnacle of perfection. You know it, you can feel it, but when you get there, somehow they’ve already gone around the bend leaving you with a less than satisfying experience.
And I’m one of these disappointments.
Maybe it’s the speed at which the Californians’ world turns. Scientifically, it’s 1.8 times faster than the rest of the country, if you needed precision. How else do you explain why they always manage to start the next viral hashtag without missing their Pilates class? I don’t get it. If I go to Pilates I can only hold the weight. It mystifies me how people manage to hold onto their weights, their phones, and travel down the interwebs simultaneously.
But maybe that’s why they are the ideal.
Barbie blonde perfectly sculpted, fast-talking, and with a head on their shoulders, these women shouldn’t be trivialized. At least the ones that we stereotype in the collective imagination of “California girls”. And when you find one, please let me know. I will send her a card filled with my awe.
The rest of them operate with 8 hours of sleep at nights and a to-do list that never gets completed.
And so I’ve concluded that these super women cannot possibly exist.
To enjoy life means to slow down, to learn to enjoy the ripe fruit that the world gives you and not try to rush through savoring it. Maybe take a trip away from it all. Discover something outside of the ideal but just as pleasurable. Perhaps that is what makes life so exciting. Revel in the perfection of the now – Do not wait for it to arrive.
Go out. Find it. And be patient. Wait for it. You may not find it in the likeliest of places.