Fifty things I miss about California

1. Breakfast Burritos (did you guys think this would be any lower than #1 on my list?)
2. Cheap beer
3. Ghetto beach housing
4. Hearing my mailman, DZ, start up his roaring Harley outside my bedroom window at 6:00am.
5. My girls.
6. My boys.
7. Being able to drive on a road that actually moves
8. The smell of the ocean.
9. The Chargers
10. Happy hour at Cabo Cantina on Friday nights.
11. Sidewalk skateboarders.
12. RUBIO'S. Best fish taco's .. like EVER!
13. The fact that men don't wear skinnier jeans than I do.
14. Not paying $5 plus tip for a Bud Light.
15. Fashion Valley.
16. The leaves not falling from the trees in September.
17. The fact every 2nd store on Garnet is a tattoo shop ... or a bar.
18. Taco Tuesday's at World Famous.
19. Pacific Beach Pub
20. Not living amongst creatures.
21. Two-fer Sunday's at Moondoggies.
22. Not dealing with people who talk about how "important they are"
23. Wearing flip flops outside and not having my feet look like I walked on coals.
24. NOT HAVING TO WALK IN THE RAIN.
25. Being able to run outside and not worry about inhaling exhaust.
26. Being able to bike freely and worry about impending death.
27. Fat Tire Beer.
28. Women who spend a reasonable amount of money on purses.
29. Mexican food.
30. SoCal Punk Rock.
31. TAILGATING.
32. Having after work drinks on the beach
33. The Mexican Walk-In clinic.
34. My Dentist (sorry, he had the touch) I love you, Dr. Ferrario
35. Pacific Beach Block Party. Holla!
36. Being within driving distance of Mexico.
37. Not having people smoke crack in my courtyard.
38. Outlet malls in Carlsbad.
39. MOTHERFUCKING TARGET.
40. Trader Joe's.
41. The sound of crickets
42. No mosquitos.
43. Going to Padre games.
44. No fucking snow.
45. The tweaker who split wood in my alley all night long. Loved that guy.
46. No central air ... just open windows and ocean breezes.
47. Paying less than $100 for a decent haircut.
48. Being able to go about my day without having to drive, take the subway or taxi.
49. My boogie board.
50. A place to call my own.