The 909

I went to a wedding reception out in Redlands last night, and while I was out in the 909 I stopped in to see a friend from college. The family should remember Rodney Jay. I haven't seen him since I left Utah, and since then he's married, has a son, a daughter on the way, and has graduated from medical school.

It was very interesting meeting his little family, and catching up with what's gone down over the last five years. Riveting actually. There's a lot of astonishing things that can happen to people in five short years.

I really liked his wife. She told me that I only look like I'm in my mid-twenties, so of course I can't help but enjoy her company. Their son was getting shipped off to bed, so he was, you know...two, and acting his age.

My little visit out there did make one thing abundantly clear to me, and that is that I am an Orange County snob. His wife asked me why I wouldn't want to live in the Inland Empire, and the only thing I could come up with were answers that would have revealed my snobbiness. The answer I produced was because of the weather. Renata also rushed to my rescue with the "there aren't any singles out here" which Rodney and his wife both dismissed. They claim there are lots of single medical students out there. I'm still not convinced. Either way, I somehow avoided admitting to them that I feel like living in the 909 would be beneath me. Even I'm a little appalled with myself for feeling that way. Oh well, something to work on I suppose.