Monday, October 23, 2006

I Left My Heart In San Francisco
from the mind of  Cowgirl Up.

or, what I did for my summer vacation

I've been off the radar all summer long wrapped up in a move from the San Francisco Bay Area to the greater Atlanta area. On top of a 2500-mile relocation, selling a house is no easy task. Especially in the current real estate market cool-down. (The entire selling experience has been so difficult, in fact, now that it's finally over I'm certain that if Dante were alive today, he'd write about a special level of Hell where souls must suffer through selling & buying a house in the State of California.)

While I will miss the pleasant California climate, bountiful sunshine, natural beauty, and Pacific ocean, I can't say that I will miss the leftist moonbats, the over-inflated cost of living, and the resulting PC politics. I'm going to miss the Golden State, but I will not miss the Land of Fruits, Nuts & Flakes.

When told about my upcoming relocation, a liberal friend of mine remarked how he could never live in Atlanta because he imagined it to be "too conservative." Unfortunately, I find this perspective to be common among my numerous acquaintances who have spent their entire adult lives steeping in the leftist groupthink of the West coast. Normally I let little remarks like that slide, but in this case I couldn't help but fire back in an e-mail reply that Georgia has plenty of liberals to keep him comfortable; Atlanta, in particular, being home to such establishments as CNN and the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library. I also took the opportunity to remind him that despite Georgia's conservatives, Atlantans continued to re-elect the demure Cynthia McKinney (although the following week she lost her primary - never fear, Moonbats! Like a bad penny, she has a way of always turning up.) Needless to say, I haven't heard back from this friend since then. To be honest I don't care, either. He falls into the same elitist camp that my lesbian neighbors were so fond of flying the flag for: The only places worth living in are New York City, San Francisco, Seattle, and perhaps Portland, OR. Well, they can have it. Although I've only called the Southeast home for roughly three weeks, it's nice to live somewhere more normal for a change - somewhere you don't have to wear Birkenstock sandals, slap a "Bush Lied People Died" bumper sticker on your car, and wear a Che Guevara tee while sporting the footprint of the American Chicken on your person in order to fit in.


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