AK Takes SoCal

If there's one thing Alaskans love, it's seeing other Alaskans in places other than Alaska.  Perhaps it's because we're so few and far between to begin with, but we share a really deep bond about our roots, and love to celebrate it when we're far from home. This past weekend I had several out-of-AK reunions during my road trip to Southern California, both planned and coincidental.  Those connections were really what made the trip memorable and special for me, as it made me feel closer to home despite the fact that I haven't seen the frozen wasteland since January second.

The first encounter was purely coincidental and absolutely crazy.  I was in LA with my brother and his friends, and we decided to head to the Venice Boardwalk.  It's a crazy and wild hippie hangout, quickly detailed in my last post.  This was the only day of my California vacation warm enough to break out shorts--well, warm enough for us Alaskans.  Locals were in down coats and Uggs.  My crew split up a bit to shop and observe all the crazy people.  I was casually strolling past an on-the-job-at-10am-hooker, when I literally and physically ran into my friends Sophie and Krista.  What?! These were two of my bestest friends in middle school, and we stayed close despite attending different high schools.  They go to school in northern Cali and Oregon, respectively, and I had not given either one a thought during my Spring Break excursion.  Imagine our shock and giddiness when we saw each other in one of the most populous cities in the country; to which none of us even had a real connection.  Turns out both of their breaks coincided with mine (rare enough to begin with) and they had met each other in LA for the week, hoping to hit up Disney, visit friends at Occidental, and bum around on the beach (that last one wasn't too successful, thanks to the buckets of rain). As an added bonus, they got to see me, and we spent a few hours on the boardwalk as well as the Santa Monica Pier, before they realized they had a bus to catch to Occidental and had to sprint down the beach back to their hostel.  This quickie reunion was extremely unexpected and rewarding; I wouldn't have seen either of them until June otherwise.  It's a crazy memory that I'm unlikely to forget, purely because of its unlikelihood.  The semi-sunny day and fun activities didn't hurt either.

Later that same day, after a traffic-laden trek to San Diego, I had a more conventional Alaskan encounter: my friend Paulina goes to school at the University of San Diego, a beautiful Catholic university on a hill.  I had called her a few weeks before and planned to get together whenever I made it down to San Diego (remember, road trip = no set plans).  We drove up to her campus and she took us to a kind of good, kind of overpriced Mexican restaruant for dinner with some of her friends.  Unfortunately she had a lax game in the morning (something you don't hear often: an Alaskan Laxer.  She picked it up at college), so our visit was cut short-- but not before our other friend Connor made the trek down from UC San Diego and met us all in a parking lot in Old Town.  Four Alaskans in one place! Madness!  We obviously had to document it with a poorly-lit mupload.  Another common trait of us northerners: "I use my hand to show people which part of Alaska I'm from."  It's even a Facebook group.

See the resemblance?  Kinda?

So we took the classic pic of us flashing the AK sign--no, it's not a gang symbol.  Paulina left and Connor took her place, showing us around Mission Beach and some of the popular clubbing areas.  We ended up al hanging out in our cheap hotel room, probably making too much noise and reminiscing about Alaskan summers and shenanigans.  

Of course, the best AK reunion of the break was spending seven days and several hundred miles with my one and only twin brother.  We've got the most memories and connections to home than anyone, and I will miss him dearly.

What should you take from all this?  I know some of you can't flash supercool hand symbols of your home, or run around in shorts and flip flops the minute it hits 50 degrees.  But connections from home are important, and memorable, and valuable.  I may not remember casually walking the streets of Southern California in 20 years, but I'll probably remember seeing old friends and learning from them what's cool about where they live now.  When all your other friends say "Alaska sucks" and a handful of people can actually jump to your defense, that's pretty special.  Home may be thousands of miles away, but that doesn't mean you can't feel at home somewhere else.