Dont Mince Words

Dixie

I love the smell of corrugate in the morning. I’m a bit of a professional mover. I save good boxes for future use. My move out of California has been flawless except for the stress Dixie has when she sees boxes and hears the squeal of the 3M packing tape.

Driving across country with a 70-pound dog while missing a nor’easter is my kind of fun.  I haven’t driven in “weather” since my last winter in Brooklyn in 2001.  I have packed the car accordingly:  small shovel, ice scraper, volcanic ash to put under tires, protein bars, dried fruit, and a case of CA wine. Dixie’s backseat charcuterie is more like a mobile lounge. She’s got her treats, kibble, bones and a plush faux shearling seat cover to stay warm.  And if things get tough, she’s got Benedryl and doggie painkillers in place of wine.

The stress for both of us will end as soon Santa Barbara is in the rear view. Tomorrow we hit the road for the next great adventure.  Goodbye California.

I’ve lived in California for 10 years and I’m still not sure I’m used to it.  But like others, I’m numb, and without seasons I never know how fast time is passing.

California is everything everyone told me it would be.  “It will be hard to meet good people.”  I wouldn’t say good, but genuine.  I followed the rule taught to me by other transplants and just try to befriend midwesterners or other easties.  The natives?  They mean well.  I’ve got a decade of dating material but I can’t say dating here is any harder than other cities.  I just tried harder in California so my frustration was more documented. The good people are hard to find.

The weather in annoying predictable (LA Story) and great.  I’ll give you that, California.  But we all miss Fall.  Switching from t-shirts to 3/4 length t-shirts isn’t a season.  On the other hand, I’ve never owned so many open-toed shoes and flip flops.  THAT is freeing along with rub-on tan.  I wear pantyhose about once a year and that’s usually just to get laid.  But I do miss LL Bean field jackets, leaves and cold Halloweens.

A Brooklyn friend and I came to the conclusion that you can’t help but eat healthy out here because there are no good bagels or pizza.  With the year-round farmer’s markets and stick-thin blondes, you pay attention to food.  Being able to be outside 12 months a year to exercise is an added bonus.  Health is a focal point, whether it’s food or exercise.

So here I am 10 years later.  A little bit healthier, a lot older, and less sarcastic/east coast hardened.  Well, maybe.

Today is the second anniversary of my arrival to California and I’ve determined that 80 percent of my shoe collection is now open-toed.