This first month in Cali has been an interesting one, more difficult in some respects, less difficult in others. 

The biggest difference involves driving, which used to exasperate me back home but has me downright dumbfounded here.  I’ve discovered that right turns involve the use of half-lanes (bike riders are S.O.L. at stoplights), that the posted speed limit of 65mph is more of a guideline than a law, that traffic between Irvine and Hermosa Beach slows to an inexplicable crawl even at midday, and that buses are mythical creatures that appear only to confound you when you’re desperate to follow your MapQuest.

I’ve learned that the air is dirty no matter how clean it may look and is so dry it’s nearly impossible to sweat.  This means there isn’t enough moisturizer in the entire world to satisfy the prune-skinned people in the desert areas.  It’s entirely possible to get into an argument with a fellow resident because she nabbed the last tube of Blistex from the display at 7-Eleven.  And blackheads - at my age - what is up with that?!?

Japanese is spoken with alarming rarity (thank goodness for Midori-san or I’d never be able to practice).  Spanish is spoken with alarming regularity (hola!).  I can get a really good chicken katsu at Da Kine Plate Lunch, but there’s no such thing as saimin…it’s all called ramen…and none of it is ZipMin.

There are palm trees, beaches, beautiful parks, mountains in the distance, and an abundance of greenery.  People are, for the most part, friendly and helpful - except for that guy across the walkway who insists on screaming into his mobile phone every night around 10pm.

I can get to lots of places if I care to.  When Tracy and I drove to Long Beach to pick up my car, we passed by San Juan Capistrano, which certainly seemed like a bigger, mountain-topped monastery when I saw it on television.  I’m an hour or so from Mexico, and two hours or so from L.A.  There are planes, trains, and automobiles aplenty; spending time in Vegas is not so much a trip as a weekender.  Disneyland is completely within my reach, huzzah!  I’ve never been there.  Honest!  So I’m taking the kid and heading there some time in January.

Do I like it here?  Yep, yep.  Do I miss Hawaii?  You betcha.  In a rather strange and cosmic way, though, it seems like I haven’t moved.  It’s as though here and there are mere extensions of the place where I truly live.

Thanks, Lunarpages, for figuring out what the heck was wrong with my site this past month.  Yeesh!

Shortly before my blog blew up, Melissa put together a wonderful dinner party at the Carlsbad Karl Strauss.  It was so great to see everyone in a group again after so many years (eight years or so, meep!).

During our third week here, I found out my car wouldn’t be getting to town for another ten days or so, and there was no way I could afford to keep the rental car for two more weeks.  So my sainted sister camped out at my place and did the whole carpool thing (mwah!).  We then braved the freeways and the Matson dock at Long Beach, picked up my car, and…dammit…I lost a really cool roommate :(  Oh, Cyd and I also had our first California-style fender-bender — that is, the other driver’s fender was bent; my door was scraped and dented.  I’ve had my car for less than two weeks and it’s already going into the shop for some body work, grrr!  At least it was an easy accident, if there is such a thing.

As for the rest of things, it’s been an ongoing task of purchasing things to outfit the apartment, getting lost on freeways, and getting used to the moderately cold weather.  This past weekend, we trekked up to Hermosa Beach to visit my pal Keala in the gorgeous block-from-the-beach home she shares with her beau and his daughter.  Cyd attended her first Hebrew class and loved being at Temple (oy vey!), so I’ll be searching one out in our neighborhood for her.

Hurry up and get out here, sis-o!  We must…partay…and shoppe…and…manger…and stuff!