Why is Malibu so ugly?

Today started all wrong. I was waiting for the bus, but it apparently wasn't coming, so I just decided I would walk back over the area I walked yesterday, but I would walk farther. Once on the beach I decided to put my sneakers in my pack and walk barefoot in the sand. I don't know why this thought never occurred to me...walking barefoot wow, what a novel idea. I start walking towards Malibu, but this time I avoided walking on the boardwalk and bike path and decided to walk on the high tide line. I pass Sunset Boulevard, where I left off yesterday and I continue walking to Las Flores Canyon Road. Around mile 3, I receive a call on my cellphone and since I am quite talented I have mastered the art of walking and talking at the same time. I talk to Maggie from the Lewiston Sun Journal, and explain in detail my motivation for hiking the Pacific Coast, what it is like walking alone, where I stay, and what goes through my head each day. Maggie and I talk for an hour and I arrange to send her a picture to accompany the story. I walk the first 6.5 miles on the beach, before putting my sneakers on to walk the Pacific Coast Highway breakdown lane for the remaining 3 miles. From this perspective Malibu is ugly...the houses are all perched on stilts with fences blocking any sort of view of the ocean. I wouldn't want to live here. I walk a total of 9.75 miles before deciding to turn back because I am hungry and I can't find a place to eat. I ride the 35 minute bus ride back to the hostel and eat organic macaroni and cheese (I was going to put broccoli in it...but last night someone raided my food in the communal hostel fridge and ate all my broccoli...argh!) It rains just a drizzle, but I decide to continue on. I feel like a slacker...only walking for 3.5 hours, but I have plans to eat dinner with an Australian girl I met in the hostel, and I want to send the photo to the journalist before then. So, now all is good. I am done my walking for the day, the photo is sent, everyone is happy. I eat at the California Pizza Kitchen (I share a goat cheese pizza with Jane, the Australian girl) and then we go to a cafe later, where Jane gets free chocolate chip cookies from the guy behind the counter). I spend the evening in the movie room watching the end of "There's Something About Mary" and then three episodes of "Sex and the City". I was never a fan of that show, and now that I have watched these three episodes I am even less of a fan. I meet a German guy who I spend an hour discussing train travel with and the conversation is actually fairly interesting. When he leaves the movie room I am getting up to leave when the only other occupant of the room an Alaskan guy from the literal middle of nowhere starts asking me about my travel. He seemed weird, long before I learned that he had no friends (his word) and knew no one else his age. I have never been so thankful to be me and not some weird pseudo-hermit who can barely carry a conversation. That sounds harsh, but the reality is this guy was WEIRD...completely odd in every aspect.

I look through the photos of myself in Ireland. Which one to send the newspaper? I am having a bad hair day in all!