Urban dictonary defines Oroville California as follows:

“A Small while trash town in butte county, ca where they make lots of meth”

If you would have asked me what I thought of that 4 years ago I would have said that whoever wrote this was being nice. Now I see that it really wasn’t THAT bad. Don’t get me wrong, it was not perfect or magical, but that’s a tad harsh.

There wasn’t much to do in oroville if you are a teenager with limited transportation. We had a movie theater, walmart, and some shops downtown. In the moment that felt like nothing and that the town was out to get us. The nearest mall was 30 minutes away in Chico and Sacramento was an hour and a half away. Looking back to when I was 13-16 I can understand my frustration and hatred for that town as a teenager. Today I appreciate it more and more. As me and Arron were talking about where we would like to buy a house I soon realized that I was describing a town a lot like Oroville. Small, close to a major highway, a lot of open area, and the less buisnesses the better. Obviously a grocery store and some fast food staples but no Target, Sams Club or a bank on every corner. You can ask Cameo, as a teenager I always said I never wanted to live in a small town again. It’s weird and amazing how things change.

Some of my best memories were in that walmart, at all hours of the day. I remember driving the backroads where there was no cell phone signal for hours and hours. I remember skipping class and bringing Cameo donughts to her right after 1st period. Playing pool in Tylers garage every night for an entire summer. Going to the fair each year and seeing the FFA team kick butt. Those are the memories I care about.

Hometowns are a tricky thing, thankfully mine turned into something more than I thought it would. That doesn’t happen for everyone, hell some people would say they don’t have hometowns.

Cheers to you Oroville, I’m happy I don’t live there anymore, but thank you for everything.