Today was my first real day in Santa Barbara. I took yesterday as a day for recuperating and laid around for most of it. I set my alarm early and (are you ready? deep breath in and...):
got coffee and walked along the harbor/ went to the CA DMV and applied for a license/ took and passed the state of CA driver's exam (only 4 wrong, out of 36)/ went to SBCC, filled out much paperwork and registered for classes/ paid for classes (and suddenly became a very financially poor individual)/ got the necessary textbooks from the bookstore (a host of articles, intro to rigging, and a beautifully bound tome entitled, "Principles of Industrial Welding")/ talked with a few people in the Marine Diving Tech office (and learned there's even more to be worried about for swim eval!)/ proceeded to local dive shop to purchase more necessary gear/ and finally, found small local latino food mart (Santa Cruz) and purchased necessary food (yesterday's menu having consisted of little more than canned baked beans).
After so much activity, I came home for a nap on my luxury accomodations, the air mattress, in the yellow room.
While getting coffee this morning, I met young Nate, who'd driven out from NJ last year to attend City College. Nate looked the part of a younger, more innocent a & f model: perfect white teeth, perfectly groomed shaggy hair, a clean white wife beater peeking out from beneath his coffee shop apron. Very SoCal, to my midwestern eyes. He told me City College was awesome, that I'd love it there, and that I didn't need to worry about the swim eval, that he was sure I'd do just fine. Sweet young man.
In preparing to come here, I came face to face with my apprehensions, many of which center around the idea of fitting in. Seems funny to be a woman of 30 and worried about fitting in, but there it is. I've lived in other countries before, and have often pondered the idea of living in a different US city, but never have. So, the places I've lived have all been abroad, and when abroad, one is always a sort of stranger, an outsider, and therefore not held to the same standards as those who live in those places (in my mind, anyway). I could never have been Chinese, or Thai, or French, and so could simply be myself. Living in a different state, though, I'm still American, and that's always felt somehow like being held to a standard, compared to everyone else, like I should fit a certain mold. I suppose I even felt that to some extent in Minneapolis, like we should all look a bit the same, wear the same clothes, have the same hair. In any case, the standard here, for what I'm doing, seems to be mid-20's and male, which obviously I'm not. I can't be reassured about fitting in with the program, because I will be one of very few women, but I was reassured about fitting the norm at the school: there were all ages, body types, ethnicities registering for classes today. I was just another bumbling student, trying to fit the pieces together.
Nate was right though, City College does seem pretty awesome. It's really a beautiful campus, high up on a bluff overlooking the water, lush and green like the rest of the city, buildings nestled into the hills, a bridge connecting 2 parts of the campus separated by a deep valley. It seems a comfortable place to spend the bulk of my days.
the pier at Stearn's Wharf
the harbor, from a distance
on the pier, looking toward SB
Palm Park
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