End Game: California

My head has always been stuck in the clouds.

It was my junior year of high school, sometime during the spring. I had gotten hooked into the world of speech and debate the year before, and ever since I’ve been competing at local and national tournaments. Although my time as a debater is over, (it’s absurd to think that a graduate would ever VOLUNTARILY go back to high school) now is the time to reflect on all of the adventures, (and misadventures) that occurred during that time.

Where was I? Oh right. Junior year.

I had just qualified to go to a national tournament, held in Sacramento, California. Dreaming about California is one thing. Being there is another. It was almost surreal, we had left Florida early in the morning, and arrived in San Francisco - early in the morning. I remember getting off the plane, going outside and just taking it all in. It was like I was a time traveler.

Before the tournament began, we had a few days to do some sight seeing. I remember this, clear as day, I was in the back of a VERY large van, along with other members of the team. We were at the top of a hill. Apparently in California, everything is a hill. But this one was different. I looked through the window.

We were about to drive down Lombard Street, the famous “winding road” of California. Even though we went slowly, I remember being absolutely terrified. On the way down, I was in awe - I notice that in California, this was my constant state of mind, but I was in awe of all of the houses along Lombard Street. People live in those houses. Parking must be hell for them. All those tourists, and… I don’t know, maybe the WINDING ROAD OF DEATH they decided to live on.

Another highlight was going to the Redwood Forest. The trees were like something out of a movie. Wider than my room, taller than many of the buildings, these trees were skyscrapers. Although I don’t have the picture, I remember standing inside one of the trees that had been hollowed out, just for tourists.

We found out a few months later that the tree we stood in actually fell down in a storm.

Driving around San Francisco left me with only one thought. I have to live here. California culture, from what little I’ve seen, is completely different from Florida. Everywhere you look, you can take a VERY good instagram photo. Everywhere. I doesn’t matter whether you’re going through a nice neighborhood, or if you’re on the side of the highway. California just looks better than Florida.

Sometime during my life, I want to live in California.

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