a one million time

p. just drove away, down the road, back home and san francisco is as cloudy as ever. i might have even cried the tiniest bit, mostly in my dreams about it last night but a little after he was gone because, damn, what i just had was a very, fantastically, amazingly, good time.

have you ever been surfing? you should go and you should go in santa cruz. you should do it like we did: paddling around in the sunshine, watching terns dive bomb their bodies into the water, seeing starfish on the ocean floor, disentangeling yourself from kelp, avoiding the crabs and occasionally paddling fast enough to catch a wave which will take you so quickley it seems likely you will die but you never do and then, if you are me, you stand up and fall over and if you are p. you can ride on the wave for what seems like two miles.

we surfed for three days each; two together and one day where p. just watched (the waves weren’t big enough) and one day where i just watched (the waves were too big). on the day p. watched me from the sand, i was swimming with great white sharks and i didn’t even know it.

we spent three nights in the bed of his truck which is like a fort with pinned up curtains. we parked in one random neighborhood and then settled in front of a friend’s house where we were actually able to take showers and even brush our teeth before some neighbor found us in the morning and pointed out there is no camping on residenatial streets. we went on the giant dipper rollercoaster 4 times each and drank pbr on the boardwalk. we skateboarded around pleasure point and watched the local old guys bullshit each other and the local young guys try to impale themselves on rocks. i fell asleep in the middle of miami vice.

on our last night in santa cruz we stayed at new brighton campground which is just like an oregon coast campground except the camp host had even MORE america paraphenalia and it cost $25. we pitched p.’s tent which looked like something the taliban might travel with and made burritos on p.’s camp stove. that guy is freaking prepared. i may never go camping without him again. after we checked out the beach, p. let me build the fire. if you know me at all, you know this is about the nicest thing you can ever do for me. the fire was, obviously, vastly superior to any other fire ever made in the history of human kind. we roasted off-brand marshmallows and put them on off brand grahmn crackers but added the neccesary brand name chocolate. p. tried to convince me that he never burns marshmallows and then when his caught on fire he waved it around like we always tell campers at girl scout camp NEVER to do and the marshmallow actually landed on my ear and some in my hair. i couldn’t stop laughing, especially because of all the warnings i’ve given and recieved that i secretly scoffed at because come on, does that ever REALLY happen? it does but it isn’t really that big of a deal.

in the morning we left the campground and headed back north in search of waves and salt water taffy for p. and sadly, grad school orientation for me. we found everything we were looking for though the waves were colder and meaner outside santa cruz and i didn’t actually WANT grad school orientation.

and that is basically it. we ate dinner at the atlas cafe down the street and then watched ali g and then fell asleep and at 7:30 ish, we skateboarded back to p.’s truck and he left for home. i don’t mean to demean any other vacations i have ever been on, but this was a nearly perfect one. we did only things we wanted to do (except for the actual work work p. had to do sometimes) and i got a sunburn. the only fighting was with samuri swords or insinuations about certain peoples’ rattail proclivities and right now i wish the whole thing was still happening.

on monday i start school. i have to find a job and make friends and buy printer paper and do some laundry. but right now i think i am just going to feel homesick and sick for the ocean and sick for campfires and marathon skateboard rides and museums and laughing and real friends who seem so evanescent sometimes. or maybe i’ll go back to bed.

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