Exercise 1-description of place you grew up and an event that happened there.
Most teenage girls look forward to their high school prom. Being somewhat anti-social and definitely anti-prom I didn�t want to attend the actual prom itself. My close friend and I saw it as a great opportunity to dress up and escape. We had a plan for an alternative excursion.
We lived in beautiful San Luis Obispo, or at least that�s how the rest of the world views it anyway. We saw it slightly different: sometimes strangling and confining, sometimes promising, and always boring. The main population of the city was the students of Cal Poly University. Cowboys and Ag. Majors aplenty; we kindly referred to the ditsy and money endowed girls as �Poly Dollies�. The town was for yuppies. A community for those who had money and wanted to be slightly north of Santa Barbara. The people of SLO were just as confusing and bumpy as the streets you find there.
On the buses there were heroin addicts. In the streets there were homeless families. In the strawberry fields there were migrant workers. There were eccentric artists, wild musicians, and the bars always seemed to be hopping. The diversity of the town inhabitants is always overshadowed by the high class clothing stores and plentiful money-greedy commercial outlets. And always struggling for breath below, were the teenagers. Youth not wanting to become their parents, not wanting to stay confined.
The town had raged a war against all teenagers. The police walked the school, watching for kids daring to ditch class. They began ticketing the teens that opted to cross the streets for lunch. How dare they cross where there was no crosswalk? There were none provided within walking distance. Sitting on the sidewalk downtown was seen as an offense with a fine of at least $300. A 9pm county wide curfew was relentlessly enforced by Big Brother. Somehow the city limits of San Luis Obispo escaped this rule. So teens from all over the county simply ended up in the main city for their thrills. At the weekly local raves you could find drugs and alcohol and teens going wild. As teens in this condemning city, we continually felt the need to escape and catch our breath, even if just for a moment.
So for our Junior Prom, my friend and I decided to play hooky. Under the rouse of going to prom we were able to get money from our parents, and my friend was able to get her curfew dropped for that night. At her house we got ready to go on our dates to the prom. We had three guy friends, from another high school, helped with our devious little plan. As we tried to escape out the door in our light blue and lavender satin dresses trailing behind us, my friends� mother abruptly stopped us. Our guy friends entered and we were afraid she was going to question them and lay out the law of the night. Instead she pulled out her camera and insisted on taking pictures. We goofily posed for her and rushed out quickly.
Our Grand Plan: visit all the beaches along our coastline and stay out as late as possible. We did no drugs, we did not drink, and we were good little girls in that sense. We started at the most southern beach, Oceano. This was a portion of the beach where we could drive on, admiring the waves and stuck cars from a quickly moving location. We then moved slightly north to Pismo Beach, which is a pier with many little bungalow style stores. We went upstairs to the arcade and played air hockey; in our formal gowns we dripped ketchup while eating our hot dogs and Icees. The bright lights were invigorating and exciting.
Our next stop was Avila Beach. This is the beach where we would always have bonfires. Later PG&E admitted to spilling oil under the sand and had to dig it all up, leaving the whole are in distress at having to close shops and leave their homes. We met up with some older friends and had a small bonfire with guitars and dancing under the moon. Only the elated ones danced, but hey, it was our prom. Right near here is Port San Luis. This is a pier you can actually drive down, although I found it rather frightening. At the end of the pier is a smelly seafood restaurant and loads of fisherman, even late at night.
After getting our fill of the southern beaches we turned our blazing eyes northward. We drove past SLO, feeling perhaps slightly guilty, and headed to Los Osos and Montana de Oro. This beach was actually a national park, with a long curvy drive leading to a very small beach. On this beach you could climb out on the rocks and occasionally get stuck out there with the tide. Looking into the east you see nothing but Eucalyptus trees planted by the Spaniards as a wind block, to the west the never-ending sea. We felt so free and alive, as though we were the center of the world and happy to be there. We eventually departed the wilderness and headed north once again.
Next stop: Morro Bay. Named for a giant rock sticking out of the ocean, this place had claimed many unfortunate lives who thought they could scale the humungous rock. Morro Bay also had a little village with shops, which were closed at this hour, but at the end of the road was a playground and bathroom. After a short stop to powder our noses, we played on the swings like we were children again, enjoying the call of the insomniac seagulls. The energy high had not passed, and would not for a while. The night was still young and we head even farther north. Our last stop was Cayucos by the sea.
The drive was serene as the small city lights twinkled past. Reaching the harsh pebbled beach it�s named for; we realized our night cannot last forever, for this would be our final stop. We walked barefoot on the rough rocks, feeling the immortality of the night. Our evening became more serene and quiet as our adventures ended. Falling upon the soft sand of our final retreat, we looked up into the vast sky. We raised our arms into sky and embraced the last cold chill of freedom. We slowly and reluctantly made our way home, with memories of freedom and rebellion to cherish in our lives. I do have to say that was the best prom I never had