Going Going Back Back to Cali Cali

I'm headed home tomorrow to sunny (hopefully) California. I haven't been home in over a year. Mostly because going home is not an enjoyable experience for me. I would feel bad if my mom ever read this, but its true. In fact, the only reason why I've made the time in my schedule to go is because it is my cousins high school graduation, and my grandma is flying out from Connecticut to see it. There will be a solid representation of family present, and graduations are in my opinion, something to be celebrated.

Each time I go home, I'm surprised by a) how different my parents are from how I remembered them b) how annoyingly ostentatious Marin County is c) how different I am from the person I was when I lived at home. For example, two years ago it was my other cousin graduating from high school, and my boyfriend and I flew down for the ceremony. We arrived at 11am (the graduation started at 3pm) and my mom was frantically cooking for the after-graduation party at my aunt's house. She was saying over and over how she would not be attending the ceremony because she had to finish the food. I was like WHAT? This pissed me off to no end, and I wanted to do whatever it was possible so that she could go to the ceremony. Because, um, what's more important? The ceremony or the food? I guarantee you that my cousin will remember the fact that my mom didn't attend her ceremony more than she will remember what she ate afterwards! My family is asinine.

My mom made a brief appearance at the ceremony. And you know what? I don't even remember what we ate afterwards, but I certainly remember how irritated I was that she was pulling some martyr bullshit about possibly not going to the ceremony. Fast forward to this year...I can only imagine what this trip has in store for me. All I know is nearly every time I return home from a trip to California, I'm crazy. Crazy with all the thoughts of how my family is so crazy, and disbelief that I'm cut from the same fabric.

I'm thinking that I chose a really bad time to begin my Paleo 30 day trial. I should have waited until after my trip so that I didn't have to constantly explain myself. So I don't have to put up with those sarcastic comments about a "fad" diet, and foods that I chose not to eat being pushed my way. Getting the unsolicited advice from people that have been unhealthy and/or fat the majority of their lives about "what I should be eating." Oh, what fun it will be!

But then I thought to myself, fuck them. Fuck all of them. If they can't be supportive of me, that is a problem with them, not me. I have been conducting "experiments" on my body for years now, trying to figure out what works for me. This is another one of those experiments. It may last, it may not. In fact, this is probably the best possible test I could give myself since I will be faced with so many factors: being out of my routine, cooking in a foreign kitchen, family that is skeptical of my choices, familiar habits that come with home, and a special occasion. If I can survive this weekend, I can do anything!

Of course, I may be overreacting. Perhaps nothing will happen, and my family will be so happy to see me and embrace whatever it is I choose to do! LOLHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHALOL. I can dream, can't I?