Rock.On.

"Since when do you surf?"
"Since I moved to the beach and realized there are hot surfer chicks out there! If I lived next to Jellystone Park, I’d own a bear suit and a pic-a-nic basket!"
~Charlie Sheen

This city is mine, at least in the same way that Paris was. Despite the fact that I feel like the two and a half months I have here is not going to be nearly enough to see this place (from the windows of a bus), I realized I fit here (or at least in Santa Monica and Beverly Hills)...
Why?

Because the guys wear tight girl rock star pants...
I passed two tour buses on my way to work yesterday...
And there is Mexican food on every corner.

And I have realized something important about myself: wherever I go, there I am. I think that comes from a Led Zeppelin song or something, and I’ve always known that I throw myself completely into the place where I happen to be... (voila the reason that my friends are always complaining because I am so hard to get in touch with). But besides that, I’ve learned since coming to California that I can meld like a chameleon to fit into the places that I am. I don’t change the way I dress or the way I act, and it would appear that I am incapable of changing the way I talk, no matter where I go. But other things... general things... in France I ate croissants, crepes, and quiche. In Los Angeles, I find myself eating yogurt for breakfast, salads for lunch, and buying frozen edamame to steam for dinner. This is getting a little ridiculous.

Four years ago, I spent a summer working as a page in the Circuit Court Clerk’s Office in Beattyville, Kentucky. One of my responsibilities was to call jurors and let them know when to report for jury duty. I was given the responsibility primarily, I think, because there was no risk of the jurors knowing me, so the phone calls would go much quicker. But I don’t sound like a Kentucky native (if you’ve never noticed, call my cell, I probably won’t pick up, you can listen to my voicemail and see for yourself). I have never really understood where I picked up this Valley Girl voice from– it’s not something I pride myself on, but I am aware of it and I don’t know how to make it go away. I am originally from Florida, I’ve lived in Georgia, North Carolina, Kentucky, France, and now California (as of the last week). So why do I sound like someone off the cast of 90210? Anyway, when calling the jurors in Kentucky, I once had someone hang up on me because they thought I was prank-calling because they didn’t recognize my voice. But the best was when I called the owner of the grocery store in town and he said to me, and I quote, "Honey, where did you say you was from?"
"Ahh, I’m calling the Lee County Circuit Clerk’s office?"
"In Lee County Kentucky?" he asked.
"Yes sir...?"
"Well, sugah, I’da thought you was from California, the way you was talkin’!"

Which means that after a year of keeping my mouth shut for as long as possible to look like a native, I find myself opening it as soon as possible to make it seem like I know where I’m going, what I am trying to do, the bus route I am looking for, the store I need to find, or the radio station person I need to talk to.

So, like, totally rock on, man.
~B

P.S. I am not totally sure it is actually LA that I am living in– I think I may have accidentally flown to, like, Peoria or something: there is absolutely no traffic here, it’s been below 70 every day since I arrived, and everywhere I go it smells wonderful. No, really. There’s jasmine and eucalyptus and all kinds of lilies everywhere, and the blocks I walk through Beverly Hills to get to work smell delicious... it’s awesome.