i feel a bit of an idiot being inside on such a perfect summer day. but, after being in huntington beach for nearly a week, it’s becoming obvious that the weather is always perfect. not very exciting, i know.
i so do not fit in to this neighborhood. picture me: walking around in my jeans and cowboy shirt, bleached hair all spiked up, pasty white, wearing
grey gray socks. sweating in the summer sun, walking quickly to nowhere in particular.
dozens of boys waxing their surfboards, girls leisurely biking by on their beach cruisers, little kids skateboarding better than anyone i saw over four years in london. everyone barely dressed, perfectly tanned, and perfectly ripped. i mean, seriously, 90% of the people here are stunningly, perfectly gorgeous.
not sure if the teevee show emulates the real orange county, or the other way around, but all the boys here have scraggly floppy surfer curls, whereas my big-city over-processed dye job kinda stands out. and i like that.
fortunately, my four years of gay adolescence in london have left me with supreme confidence, and i’m completely happy with who i am. i’m lucky to not have the body image issues that i had years ago [and that most people experience in their lives] because i’d be freakin’ freakin’. i think it also helps that i’m not particularly attracted to the [stereotypically] ditsy, tanned, six-pack surfer persona, which is strange because i’m pretty sure i used to be.
walking past the hundreds of gorgeous clones, sipping my grande nonfat iced mocha valencia, by the beach and outside the dozens of surf shops and bar-n-grills, it felt pretty good to stand out, just a bit. and, thankfully, all of l.a. isn’t like this—i just happen to be in a surfer’s mecca. i dig it, though. people here are friendly, so incredibly laid back, and it’s just so incredibly… pleasant.
i’ll be retreating to the big-city comforts of west hollywood soon, but in the meantime it’s nice to enjoy this only-in-cali slice of hippy life.