My favorite freeway? The 24. (Not just because I am a fan of 24…)

People have often called this the rich man\’s freeway because it links 680 and 880 together through the Caldecott Tunnel where no trucks carrying hazardous materials are allowed (they can explode). As a result, most of the vehicles here are passenger cars. The luxury kind. Usually people from the Lamorinda area.

Today, I drove to San Mateo (note to self: showing up a person\’s door in an apt building even with prior warning the night before is still very surprising in our day of cellphones), Mountain View (buffet lunch at Passage to India; amazing mango soft serve), and Palo Alto (I got to help my friend pack by carrying bags to the car and lifting a vintage bathtub) again. The third time this winter break and the second time this week. For some reason, this time, I was too tired. Evidence that I probably can\’t endure a commute back and forth from the East Bay to the South Bay. Three summers ago, I had an internship in Santa Clara and hated the commute in the dry heat.

I like the way the 24 winds around the rolling hills as if I am going into the country. The way I can exit the freeway and go straight onto a road when the light turns green. And how, the dark streets (no streetlights where I live) give that sense of comfort that I am home.

Of course, this is all indication that I have grown to love what I grew up with. We miss the festering wound when it finally heals. We say to ourselves that the reason we miss it is because it made us more alert and that it made us feel real. But that\’s not the case, we just can\’t handle change.