Home and hope

I spent a good portion of the night making myself feel better by looking at rents in New York City. They're, like, twice as high for half the space. I mean, sure, we're in the IE and not the Big Apple, but that made me feel a little bit better.
I haven't been to New York in my adult life (I think we drove through it on our way to visit one of my mom's college friends when I was a kid), but I like to think our spot of California has more nature in it than most parts of New York City. (New Yorkers, give me a break ... I'm trying to look on the bright side of things.)
When I lived in Springfield, I knew a guy who'd moved there from Chicago and nowhere in the world he'd been, including Springfield, compared to it, and he talked about it All The Time. Every time he found anything about Chicago, he'd send it to us, including an essay that included the poignant phrase, "It's not like there's anything WRONG with your city, it's just not Chicago."
We always good-naturedly raised our eyebrows at his hometown pride. After all, if Chicago's that great, why did he move to Springfield?
Now, I think I can appreciate his feelings.
I loved Kansas. I loved Missouri. But I kept thinking there was something more out there, something better. That's why the California job came at such a wonderful time.
And I wouldn't trade my California experience for anything. After all, this is where I met my husband (a displaced Midwesterner). This is where I've taken some really great pictures, played around at bodyboarding, and made some really great friends (100 percent of them displaced Midwesterners). Heck, I'm only an hour from the beach!
But I miss home.
I miss the clear skies, the clean air, the honest friendliness, the good traffic, the low rent and the weather.
I miss parking easily.
I miss my family, my friends and knowing that no matter where I live, they're probably only going to be an hour away.
I miss knowing where I am, physically and mentally.
It's not like there's anything drastically WRONG with Southern California.
It's just not Kansas.