Seasonal Disaffection Disorder

I named this blog “It’s Too Sunny Out Here” for a reason, even though it’s an odd choice for a photographer.

All my life I lived in a state that had very distinct seasons. Four of them. Until I moved out here 4 years ago.

Most of the time I’m grateful for the nice weather, the knowledge that 95% of the time it won’t rain. It suits my laziness to not have to check the weather report before leaving the house in the morning.

But then football season rolls around, and I absolutely hate it.

I went to Penn State for undergrad, where the entire fall semester basically revolves around football. My high school was big on football, but I never really got into it until college. Sophomore year, to be exact, as I didn’t have football tickets freshman year.

Football season to me means crisp weather. Bundling up for the games, grasping a huge mug of hot chocolate in your hands while huddling with your friends to keep warm during the later season games. Even the early season games (where you play teams like Coastal Carolina and Temple) have a certain autumnal quality to them. It might not be the temperature, but there’s a characteristic hue to the light later in the day. A certain feeling that summer is on its deathbed. Which is fine, because fall is the best season of them all.

But every year I’ve lived out here, I’ve been pretty oblivious to the start of football season. And pretty non-involved even when I realize it’s started. It kills me, and I blame it entirely on the weather here.

Penn State won today, 66-10, and I couldn’t have been less interested in the game. I didn’t even know it was happening until late in the fourth quarter.

I feel like I’ve been in a time warp the entire time I’ve been in San Diego. Well, not a time warp per say, more of a time standstill. It’s been endless summer since 2004. Not entirely a bad thing, but it gets pretty scary when you realize that yet another year has gone past and it feels like what? A month? Maybe two? And then comes that whole “what-am-I-doing-with-my-life” crisis.

It happens every year at this time. It’s how I know I’ll never spend the rest of my life in this city. I like apple cider and sweaters and using the chill in the room as an excuse to stay in bed a bit longer in the mornings too much to give them up completely.