A friend was recently surprised to find that I hail from Southern California, and Beverly Hills, no less (probably because I wasn’t wearing my Chihuahua-carrying Louis Vuitton midday satchel at the time). She said that I gave off much more of a NorCal vibe (probably because I was drinking home-brewed kombucha  out of a recycled Mason jar at the time… you DON’T ferment your own mushrooms?).

Disregarding my only slightly exaggerated stereotypes, the conversation brought up that classic debate: Northern vs Southern California. It also left me uneasy. Like many fellow Berkeley students who share split identities, where did I fall?

It is undeniable that living the Bezerk life for over a year now has had a considerable impact on me (And I’m not just talking about the new LSD habit!). I have acquired innumerable new skills and knowledge, including, but not limited to:

• The knowledge that it’s okay to care about things, and that other people care about things too.

Things like: reading for fun, Harry Potter, fonts, Boggle, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, classes on early British history.

• The ability to politely ignore people completely.

A year’s worth of Sproul-dodging has fine-tuned my skills of polite avoidance. Completely disregarding what someone is trying to say to me in the absolute kindest way possible has become almost an art form for me. Although I’m pretty sure the other day someone was trying to ask me for directions and I just smiled really widely and said “No, thank you!” Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

• The awareness that basically my entire childhood was offensive.

That includes you, Pocahontas.

•   The ability to speak Arabic.

(This is blatant ignorance/optimism).

But at the same time, growing up in the 90210 (90212, actually, if we’re being exact here) has had its fair share of contributions to my character. Shall we consider…

• My irrational sense of superiority to the valley.

It’s not really LA.

• My appreciation for Persian culture.

Even though I was always picked up from Persian bar and bat mitzvahs before dinner had even been served.

• My indoor swimming pool.

Just kidding. There’s no room for one, what with the bowling alley and all.

The truth is, I’m not NorCal OR SoCal. I’m somewhere in between. (San Louis Obispo, maybe?) I’m a smoothie. But then again, isn’t everyone? We pick things up everywhere we go, add some ingredients of our own and then blend it all together to make a flavor that’s hard to pin down — and is all the more interesting for it.

Well, I have to go now. My Swarovski-encrusted BMW hybrid has been parked outside the local food co-op for hella too long.  

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