The farther one travels, the less one really knows

I've always disagreed with that song, even if it is by George Harrison. Of course, I am about to travel half way around the world for a year, so by his definition, I'm definitely an ignoramus.

You know how in corny movies someone moves away from their hometown, coming back years later only to find the answers to life hidden there in his or her tumultuous past? I think that must be what George is talking about, but quite frankly, I usually laugh at those movies...

However (and it hurts me to admit this), it may have taken this impending year abroad to make me realize that I really love Pasadena. Driving home last night, I could see all the lights of the city spread out below me, and, with the corny sentimentality that comes with goodbyes, I thought "gee, this is really a wonderful place." Of course, at night time, the brown-gray air has lifted off of the city, and everything seems so much cleaner and more lovable. Even by the polluted light of day, though, this city isn't so bad.

Another thing I've come to appreciate about Pasadena is that it's so big. This I realized when my mom and I went camping (which, by the way, was quite exciting, including bears, fires, floods, and plague). The towns we drove through got progressively smaller - Bishop has 4,000 people; Lee Vining has 400 (no, I didn't forget a zero); and, this one is embarrassing to even think about, Bridgeport has the quite impressive count of 100. By the time we got home, I was ready to kiss the ground. I don't know how many people there are in the Los Angeles area, but Pasadena alone has got 30 times the population of Bishop, at 120,000.

Quite frankly, though, either George didn't really know what he was talking about, or it's a load of psychological hoohah.