New England, from a Southern Californian Perspective

No, I’m not a ‘Valley Girl’

Before I matriculated at Tufts, I had already spent a considerable amount of time on the East Coast. In fact, back home I am frequently accused of being preppy, despite the fact that my wardrobe consists disproportionately of black and grey clothing. As such, I always thought I knew everything there was to know about New England life.

However, when I moved to Medford I realized I was wrong. As a West Coast kid, living in New England is a new, strange adventure every day. So, dear readers, I thought I would share some of my confusions with you, in the hopes that I can get some of these things clarified.

No, I am not a “Valley Girl”

Why is this the first thing all you East Coasters asks me? For a long time, I was unclear as to whether this question was a compliment or an insult, so I googled it. According to Wikipedia, a Valley Girl is a ditzy, shopping-obsessed, airhead.

So, in short- yes, I grew up in LA. No, I am not Cher from Clueless.

And besides, the Valley isn’t even that bad. We have Universal Studios. Do you have a theme park in your  back yard? I didn’t think so.

What accent? 

I don’t have an accent. You have an accent. Or so I thought, until I moved to Boston. Apparently everything I say sounds like a question, and apparently that is cause for constant imitation.

Pastels, Vineyard Vines, and related mysteries 

In the mind of a West Coast kid, a world in which people wear outfits that consist entirely of pastel colors is a strange world indeed. What’s wrong with bright colors? What’s wrong with black?

And while we’re on the subject: Vineyard Vines. Why would you want small animals, candy canes, or anchors stitched on to your pants? And why does adding a whale to said pants make them worth $90?

Their website even has an entire section devoted to the Kentucky Derby. Why is that at all relevant? I am so confused.

Flavored Coffee

Initially, I was intrigued. However, I was quickly disappointed with what “Chocolate Raspberry” New England Coffee turned out to taste like. Don’t get me wrong- I love a good vanilla latte every now and then. But this didn’t taste like chocolate or raspberry; it tasted like sweetened battery acid.

“Spring”

Conceptually, I was aware that snow is possible in any month from October through April. But to refer to the Northeast version of March as “spring” seems an utter fallacy to me. If you can’t comfortably go to the beach yet, you can’t call it spring.

Mystic Lake in late March, 2015. Spring? I think not.

Everyone is unfriendly. 

When I’m at home, sometimes I like to take my dogs for a walk. When I do this, I often say, “Good morning,” to the neighbors I encounter along the way. I don’t know them personally. It’s just polite.

When I do this in Boston, people stare at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head. No, I am not stalking you. Sure, the constantly freezing weather would put anyone in a bad mood. But why does that make it necessary to avoid one another?

Despite the implication, I do like New England. It is a wonderfully strange place. But they could use some West Coast kindness if you ask me.

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