It's been a few weeks since I've been in California, and there are a few things about living here that I just don't understand. And because I can't sleep, I'm going to list them out here.
1. Turn signals.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not an idiot. I understand the concept of turn signals. What I don't understand is how it is possible I've been pulled over as many times as I have for not using them. In Chicago, you will most likely never be pulled over for not using your turn signal. Perhaps in combination with other offenses, like transporting a kilo of cocaine with a handful of hookers while speeding and not using your turn signal, sure. But solely because you didn't signal before switching lanes? Never would happen. However, if you go three miles over the speed limit in Chicago, they will pull you over almost immediately.
In California? Apparently you can drive 120 miles an hour as long as you use your left blinker.
I don't get it and it's about to get very expensive for me if I can't train myself to use my turn signal. And it's gotten so bad that one of the last times I left Chris's house, I didn't get "Drive safe" or "See you tomorrow" or "God, you are the sexiest chick I've ever met and every time I even think of you I'm so overcome with lust I can't contain myself and it's resulted in socially devastating but hilarious situations I'll let you write about some day*". I got "Use your turn signal".
2. Mind readers.
I touched on this in my last post, so I won't say much here. However, the next person who presumes to know what is going on in my head is getting slapped in the mouth. If they know what I'm thinking they should see it coming.
3. Medical marijuana
I understand the concept of medical Marijuana. What I don't understand is where it comes from. Not in a "how does it get from the plant to the bong" kind of way. More in the "I don't smoke pot, so I am entirely confused how I woke up and there was a shit load of weed on my coffee table". I've asked my friends, it doesn't belong to any of them. It's like the pot fairy showed up and left me a present. Which would be nice if a) I smoked weed and b) I didn't have pneumonia.
3b. Medical marijuana joints
Apparently they make pre rolled joints. Like, you show up and they hand you a little joint in a baggie. Which just baffles me that it's someone's job to roll joints all day. How do you even apply for that?
I didn't even know this was a thing. In Chicago we call them "dealers".
I was in California less than 10 days before I had to go to the hospital. The night before I was watching Game of Thrones and Chris pointed out that I was feverish. I immediately blew him off because I have been warm exactly 3 times in my entire life. As usual, he was right. (Which by the way? The frequency of his being right is nothing short of absolutely infuriating because it usually means I'm wrong.) The next day my boss sent me home early because, and I quote "You sound like crap". One trip to the ER later and I'm told I have pneumonia.
Which raises the question.
Who the fuck moves to California and gets pneumonia?! My lungs fail at not sucking.
The first thing I did upon moving here was get the most ridiculous sunburn in the history of the world. Wait. That's not fair.
The first thing I did was play with a hot guy and then God punished me for being a filthy sinner by giving me the world's most asinine sunburn.
Somehow this sunburn covered my chest, half of one of my shoulders and only most of my face. It got the front of my arms, up to the elbow, where it decided fuck it, and narrowed into a stripe on each arm. I look absolutely flipping ridiculous. The only upside is that I begged the guy who took my ID picture at work to photoshop some of the sun burn out. He felt so bad for me he did it. He didn't think it was cute when I asked him to make me look like Angelina Jolie, though.
What I don't understand the most? I was out that day with people who have skin tones about as pale as mine. None of them even seemed to notice the sun was out. Bullshit, I say.
6. People who think I look like Elizabeth Taylor.
No fewer than 7 people in the past 3 days have told me that I look like a young Elizabeth Taylor. While this is a great compliment because she was holy-shit-so-smoking-hot, I'm pretty sure that I kind of...don't. I mean I can see a resemblance with the hair and skin tone, but I'm pretty sure if I looked like her I'd be too busy staring at myself in the mirror to type this.
I'm not big on pastel colors. My friend Alexis swears that I will start wearing more of them the longer I live here. I will move back to Chicago before that happens.
8. Why everyone who hears I'm from Chicago immediately asks me how I miss the snow.
Every. Single. Time. I don't know how I miss the snow...it's May. I've lived here for five minutes. Ask me in December and I might get a little misty because it's Christmas and if it doesn't snow maybe Santa won't come, but until then? You should probably be asking me how much I miss tornadoes.
There are a few things that are the same I guess. Namely, me writing pointless blog posts at midnight when I have to work in the morning. Good to know some things never change.
*What? Isn't it every girl's dream to have a guy say that to her? Just me? Seriously?