California, the anti-goth state?

How can anyone be goth in California?  There's dry air, cloudless skies, and a decided lack of gloom.  With the exception of some pretty gigantic spiders spinning night webs near our apartment, certainly none of these things evoke visions of mouldering tombs or rot, per se.  I suppose one could ignite such sentiments with a decent kindling pile of teen angst - but it just really doesn't seem like a sustainable state, no matter how much Robert Smith and early Sisters of Mercy you've got on hand.

I thought I was in for an overcast day earlier this week, but that cloud cover burned off by 10 am.  It was just long enough to get a little homesick, listen to a few moody songs on the bus, and then it was all but dispelled. 

Being an avowed SAD case, I really wonder how winter here will treat me?  I wonder if I'll still have the January/February Blues and write bad disposable poetry and journal entries - or will I be somewhat chipper and write even worse stuff?