Hasta La Vista! — brittanyvinh

This past weekend I graduated from UCSB and that same day, moved out of my last apartment in Isla Vista on 6742 DP. People are constantly asking what my plans are now that I've graduated. Am I moving across the country? Traveling the world? Going back to LA? Am I staying in Santa Barbara?

Truthfully, I've always planned on leaving Santa Barbara. Like most people who come here, my fantasy of the future takes place somewhere else. And while that's still true, I have this profound connection to this place, to Isla Vista specifically, that's made it so difficult to say goodbye.

Isla Vista sometimes felt like a dream - not in the definition of "a goal to aspire towards" (because this place is an absolute slum) but in a sense that it's ephemeral, extraordinary. Sometimes I can't believe a place like this exists — a mile by mile stretch densely packed with 30,000 twenty-somethings who are young and dumb and excited about everything. Things happen here that could never exist anywhere else. Where else could it be normal for someone's house to fall into the ocean? Where we bike with oxygen masks amidst a fire and live within 300 feet of all of our best friends and sit on rooftops to people-watch at a party where we know the DJ.

It's so strange, so wild, so special. For four years, Isla Vista and everything about it, was home to me. And I have this compelling desire to leave, but at the same time, I don't want to leave anything behind.

The beauty of Isla Vista is its transient nature — you come knowing that you're going to leave, that this isn't forever. Even if you don't go far, you never stay. Everyone leaves eventually, and a new community of young, bright-eyed residents come to play. Isla Vista is wonderful and fleeting but maybe it's wonderful because it's fleeting. Maybe that's what gives this town life. Maybe that's why we shotgun Yerbas and make our friends streak from 66-68. Why we go rafting after class in an attempt to paddle out to the oil rigs or why we wait 30 minutes for Buffalo Chicken Cheese Fries at 2 AM when we've just gotten back from downtown.

Because this isn't forever, and adulthood is something we cannot avoid, so we do all we can so that we feel settled and satisfied when it's time to brave the real world.

I've been struggling to wrap my head around all the little things that won't be part of my everyday anymore. Waking up to the ocean at my window. Sitting on my balcony watching freshmen do the DP crawl. Doing my homework at Sands. Taking Bill's Bus downtown (what do you mean I have to uber now?). Attempting The Loop for the 30th time and still just ending up at Lao Wang.

I'm excited for my new everyday. A change of scenery feels necessary. But saying goodbye to this one is so bittersweet. It's much more difficult than I thought it would be. It feels like I'm moving towards so much more, but also like I'm leaving a whole world behind. That's the annoying thing about moving. Whether it's from Trigo to Pasado or Santa Barbara to the Bay, by bike or plane or car, when we move, we've inevitably left something behind.

And so even though all this time I've been planning to leave, I’ve been making mental maps of street names and bike paths. Memorizing houses like I do names — Barn House to Squid House to Trigo Trap, Yellow House, Slut Castle, BY. Cataloguing the restaurants on Pardall in the back of my mind, like some lecture I zoned out of before it even started. I've walked all the paths to Sands, drank (almost) all the beers from Keg & Bottle.

Eventually these things-we-know turn into stories-we-tell. I'm sure if I were to walk down Camino Pescadero ten years from now, I wouldn't be counting down the streets P-T-S-D, but pointing out the places that meant something to me. Here's the rock wall we used to drunkenly climb. That house was my first keg stand. There's the park Spencer found a random German boy sleeping in.

Isla Vista has its own language. It's something only those who know it - who live in it - can understand. It's where terms like Trivia Night, Pint Night, College Night, or Bill's Bus tell you what day of the week it is. Where things like the can fairies, the elote man, the Loop, or Dubs Club, not only make sense, but have meaning. All the typical phrases you never thought twice about but make no sense anywhere else. All these little things become part of our language, part of how we tell our story of our time at UCSB.

As excited as I am for the future, I'm sad to have to let these things go. I'm going to miss it all so much. And it's a weird realization that as much of an impact as it's had on my life, Isla Vista won't even realize I'm gone. Places are unapologetic like that. They exist despite you. And this place especially, doesn't care if you wake up in the drunk tank. It doesn't laugh when you drop your phone off an oceanside cliff. It doesn't miss you when you leave.

But god, in all of its grime and glory, am I going to miss Isla Vista.

I'm going to keep these things for as long as I can, all these mental maps and little phrases, because I want to come back to them. Even if I never step foot in Santa Barbara county again, I hope these memories, these moments, these words still mean something to me someday. I hope I never stop being fond of this town. I hope it always feels like home, even after it's not.

THANKS ISLA VISTA

I LOVE YOU TO DEL PLAYA & BACK

THESE MOMENTS WILL BE STORIES SOMEDAY

Thank you to my family who supported and funded my degeneracy during my time here, to everyone I've met these past four years who have made this place a home, and to Anna for helping with my grad cap.