Bronchitis in California

Peter and I just came back from a week-long Valentine's trip to a lovely resort hotel in California, but unfortunately, I was sick the entire time and I got Peter totally sick. And even though we were wheezing and coughing almost the entire time, we still had a good time (although we spent almost all of our time in the hotel).

Driving around the central valley of California, Peter and I kept saying to ourselves, "Uhm...WHY to we live in NY? Because it's perfect weather here all year round! Why have we been so stupid our entire lives?"

At one point, Peter turned and asked me, "Okay, why are you resistant to the idea of moving here?"

I really couldn't think of any real reason. But a large part of my brain was all one big ball of resistance.

And then he said, "I know. It's difficult. Because we're such New York people and California...well, it's the anti-New York."

Then it all clicked. I mean, of course that's why I'm so resistant. California is the anti-New York. It's like turning my back on a place where they do almost everything the way I'm used to and then moving to a place that's three hours behind. And yes, I know a bunch of people who have moved to California, including a whole bunch of people I went to college with, but the thought of being so far away from the center of the universe is a bit daunting.

It's one thing if we were going out there for a job or a reason, but to pick everything up and move away from all of our family just for nice weather and a cute house? In February, it's always a good idea, but then the sun comes out in March and New York is lovely for a few weeks before the deadening heat of the summer. And, oh yeah, we have bedbugs here. Maybe we should move to California.