Things in Cali is all different, like not the same

1 Reply

It’s like I’ve moved to a foreign country or something.

I mean, like, I can’t buy Pepperidge Farm bread and the milk selection is smaller and gas prices, whoo boy, don’t get me started.

There are actually some differences, really. Like the other day, M. and some of his friends and I went to a Korean restaurant. It was small and friendly and probably family run. And, I was the only white person there, I think. In Boston, you are pretty hard-pressed to find a place that is 100 percent full of Asians.

I was such an anomaly that the waitress kept asking the other people if “she” was OK with spicy food. We all assured her I was fine. Nonetheless,when she brought the soup, she brought over some extra plain chicken broth and explained to the group that I should dilute my soup. (I didn’t, partially because I like spicy food, and partially because I am a stubborn, macho jerk.)

California is a special wonderous place, though. Last night in an Italian place in North Beach, San Francisco, the check came with a giant bowl of community gummy bears for us to sample. It was an enchanting sight and not one that I have seen on the East Coast.

(After goading M. to take a big fistful for me, to go, as it were, I spent the rest of the night amusing myself reenacting the last scene in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off: “Gummy bear? They’ve been in my pocket. They’re real warm and soft.”)

Other than that, as I’ve gone through the new place and worked on getting settled, I’ve been compiling a list of evidence that I might be a tad obsessive-compulsive:

  • Two of everything (The two bathrooms look alike and I want them to be equally useful, so every two-for-one toiletry item and bath supply has been purchased and implemented. The net effect is hotel-like.)
  • Scrubbing with bleach (Because, like, you never know, maybe the former tenants peed on everything.)
  • Lining all flat, horizontal surfaces with shelf liner (See item above.)
  • Checking, re-checking, checking, re-checking the mailbox (I’ve always lived at places where you could see/hear the mailman coming up the front steps and that didn’t require a key to access your mail. I’m desperately lacking a sense of rhythm on this one.)
  • Using my GPS to map out everything (Afterall, you want to be able to get back home from Bed, Bath and Beyond.)
  • Checking in with M. about 900,o00 times that he’s OK and I’m not a problem and it’s OK I moved and the universe isn’t ending and he doesn’t hate me and I shouldn’t leave and he doesn’t miss his old place and is the bed comfortable (enough) and global warming isn’t killing us and Schiavo is still dead and, well, you get the point (As he points out, I like confirmation.)
  • Keeping different clocks at East Coast and West Coast time (Because, you know, if I were in Cambridge, it would be this time, but I’m not, so it’s this time.)
  • Keeping lists of my compulsions (Enough said.)

    • Other than that, much love and legging breaking success to these guys, who are doing a few big weekend shows. (If you are in the Boston area, it’s a worthwhile evening’s diversion.)

    One thought on “Things in Cali is all different, like not the same”

    Talk with me. Please.

    This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.