I have decided that I am a total whiner and need to be gently reminded to shut up when I start complaining about where I live.

What prompted this shift in attitude? Or at least, what prompted this self-derision that ought to result in a shift in attitude but probably won’t because the first step of “admitting you have a problem” is really the easiest to make?

Last night I woke up at 4:45 am. I’m not sure what woke me up, but it wasn’t just a half-awake moment. I was fully awake. As I lay there in bed, I heard a sound. A far-off roaring.

When my mother was visiting, she told me that one night she woke up and could hear the ocean. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was probably just cars or a freeway somewhere.

Last night I realized that I was being a cynical turd to have doubted my mother. The nearest freeway is 3 miles away. The ocean is less than a mile.

And so, last night as I lay in bed, I realized that I could hear the surf pounding from my bedroom. There were absolutely no cars going by, and there in the distance was a moderately noisy rumble of waves crashing. I could hear particularly big waves when they hit the sand.

This, dear readers, has forced me to shut my cake hole about where I live. Yes I miss Seattle. Yes I miss my family. Yes I miss my gigs for both The Paper and The Weekly. Yes I miss knowing that everyone’s breasts are real. Yes I miss walking to the grocery store and anything else I might need. But no, I really can’t whine anymore. I can hear the beach from my bed, I can see dolphins playing in the water, I have enough work to pay my bills this month, I have great friends, I have my health, I have an amazing magical boyfriend who likes cooking and doing dirty things. Really, I need to shut up with the whiney thing.