Moving to Fog City.

There have been a handful of wonderful moments over the last week when I fell in love with CA for the up-teenth millionth time. The kind of love where you feel giddy and drunk and like your heart is bursting out of your chest with excitement. Last Wednesday I surfed Montara for the first time in ages during the magic hour when everything you photograph looks amazing. Oddly enough I was camera-less. Montara is one of the few beaches in the area with white, thick, grainy sand and consistently blue water. I paddled out there again today with a few good friends, a bunch of sunshine and we all had a blast. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by feeling grateful for how wonderful my friends are. Friday night Sarah and I surfed perfect Pleasure Point. I was reminded of some of the challenges the sport can offer (psychologically), but thrilled at theblissful feeling of standing on the nose of my longboard and gliding down the line of a shoulder high point wave. I'm not sure it gets any better than that. Although camping last weekend in the redwoods with no surf actually comes pretty close.

Sometimes it seems like the adventures here are endless.

This month marks the anniversary of a huge change that took place in my life last year and will be the anniversary of another next year. I'm moving to the fog. Literally. The economy has put a decent strain on my business over the last few months and I've come to realize my life isn't really headed in the direction I want it to if I stay where I am, paying what I'm paying to live in this beautiful apartment and commute to the ocean as often as I do. An opportunity opened up to live out by Ocean Beach in a cheap shared house for a few months so I'm on it!

I will be living three blocks from the ocean for the first time in my life.