Things I Take for Granted In LA

When you live or work in some place for a while, you start to become oblivious to some of the things surrounding you. And by "you", I mean "me" and just assume this happens to everyone else. Right? Anyway, while there are many things that I take for granted in LA, the one that I don't is the weather. I enjoy every last bit of sunshine while I can. I consider the increase in my daily expenses compared to any place else that I've ever lived to be the "weather tax." I must pay it to enjoy the lovely weather. I'm not sure what all the fools in New York pay it for. Ambiance?

Anyway, I wanted to share a short list of things that I take for granted in LA that I had started to overlook and have now tried to open my eyes to:

• Pithy homeless people: Of course LA has it's fair share of homeless--which by the way, I consider smart because while it sucks to be homeless, it has to suck less in LA than in say, Minneapolis--there seems to be a subset that is hellbent on having a pithy message. One guy I see on a regular basis changes it up, but typically has a sign that reads either "I'm too sexy to be this homeless" (as if there is a degree of homelessness that he's trying to rise to) or "Homeless And Sexy-- That deserves something, right?" Sometimes the signs make me smile, but honestly the pithy homeless tend to be the same people that are getting quite a few donations every day. I don't recall such creativity in the other cities that I've been to. 
• Transgenders everywhere: I'm a little sad or jaded or a combination thereof that I see transgenders every day and it barely registers. Clearly in Indiana and in Nashville to a certain extent, seeing a black man with beautiful skin and great high heeled shoes would have warranted a double take, but now their beauty is lost on me. I might notice the Adam's apple but honestly when I see someone on the way to work, I think "Man, that's a lot of work for a Wednesday."
• The next new dessert shop: The abundance of frozen yogurt places are slowly shutting down so it's only a matter of time for the cupcake places start getting picked off. Whoopies never quite took off to reach the status warranting a separate storefront, and the same can be said for cakepops. Lately, I've been seeing a lot of "Milk and cookies" places pop up, so that's where my money is for the nest new dessert: an oldie. However, I love the place around here that sells mini-pies (Shout out to Simple Things Sandwich and Pie Shop!)
• I'm never more than a few miles from a Sephora: Sure, with sephora.com I can order makeup any time, but honestly when you've sweat off some makeup and there's a Sephora only a few minutes away from your next meeting and just a touch up will make you feel so much better, well, that's a bonus. It wasn't until a co-worker that's moving to Eugene, OR said "The closest Sephora is 2 hours away" that I realized that my closest Sephora is two blocks away (from work) or 2 miles away from home and another a few miles from that. 
• There are Sizzlers everywhere: My dad always used to quote White Men Can't Jump  by saying "We
  
  goin' Sizzler". I thought that was odd even when the movie came out because all the Sizzlers in the Midwest that I knew of had closed. I guess we favored Ryan's or Sirloin Stockade or some other god awful buffet restaurant. But low and behold among the sophisticated LA atmosphere there are plenty of Sizzlers (and Shakey's Pizzas) to keep the masses fat and happy (?). 

I'm sure there are more and I will share them as I start to open my eyes again to the odd and wondrous things I've been overlooking lately. 

It was a Month since I Slept in A Bed

California Hot

This is a little embarrassing to admit, but last night was the first night in more than a month that I slept in a bed. You might ask why and the answer is simple: it's been hot as balls.

Or at least "California hot." I firmly believe that each state has it's own version of hot. In Indiana, hot meant that it felt like you were stepping into a bath tub when the front door opened and you were on things like "Ozone alerts" when it got really hot. For those of you not in the know, an "ozone alert" day meant that you should not go to the drive-thru or mow your lawn. I assume as to not contribute to more ozone-destroying behavior, but I can't be entirely too sure.

In Tennessee, hot was similar to that of Indiana but with a valley that just managed to recycle heat over and over. It also had a tendency to rain for a few hours which just made it hotter.

California hot is easily the most bearable of the hots I'm most accustomed to (I'm not even going to mention the week I was in New Orleans in June--that's just a swampland of crazy people). It's undeniably hot--lately it's been over 100 degrees each day, but it's not necessarily humid so it feels nicer. It's hard to explain that to people who've lived here their whole lives, but any transplant from the South knows what I'm talking about.

Anyway, it's been hot here and part of being in California where it's only normally hot like 5 days a year means that there aren't a lot of apartments or condos or houses with central heat and air. It's just not a necessity which means that they don't invest in it. So, our apartment has a window AC unit in the living room which doesn't get the bedroom cool AT ALL. Usually we just turn the AC off and open the bedroom windows. But after two days of tossing and turning because I was roasting in my sleep, I decided to take matters into my own hands and move my bedding into the living room where I could sleep in direct air-shot of the air conditioning.

At first it felt like camping out to have our stuff strewn in our living room. And I LOVED snuggling down at night and watching TV with Chef and not worrying about when he was coming to bed. Plus we trained the cats to sleep together instead of alternating some to leave out of the bedroom. It felt like a pallet of loveliness. So much so that I just kept it out. Who needs a living room floor anyway? We don't have kids so it's not hurting anyone. It's kind of like having cereal for dinner for a week straight. As an adult, it's my prerogative.

I was getting ready to pick it up last week and then a huge heatwave came in and it was back to 100-plus degree temperatures, so that wasn't happening. Last night, I finally threw in the comforter and picked it up. Our living room has never looked so big. And you'd like that I would've missed my bed more than I have, but I have to say, it was nice to change things up for a while. A new scene. Plus if I ever had to get rid of my bed, I know that I could handle it just fine.

Ordeal for a license plate

Today I worked from home so that  I could go and get my license plate and register my car in California. I'm officially sad about this. I hated changing my Indiana plates for Tennessee ones when I moved, but the fact that Tennessee had an IU license plate buffered that transition. Now I'm losing my Tennessee and IU car connections. Bummer.

And to make matters worse, I go to the registration branch of the DMV and am told that my car needs to be inspected and to pull it along the side of the building and wait. If it weren't for a very nice security guard, I might've waited there all day. But he helped, got inspected and I was ushered inside. I get my number sit in my chair and only have to wait about 10 minutes. Holy crap! I thought. Today's my lucky day! But it wasn't until I got up the window that troubles began. I handed the lady my current Tennessee registration.

Lady at window #13: No, I need your registration card.

Me: This is my registration card. It's from Tennessee.

#13: I see it's from Tennessee but it says "application" at the top. I need the little card that actually is your registration.

Me: This is my registration. I promise you.

#13: No, it's not.

Me: I lived there for 9 years. Every time I was given a registration-all 9 times--this was it. When I was pulled over by a cop, I handed him this.

She then heavy sighs and goes to find a thick book. She consults the book and says "this isn't your registration. I can start your papers today, but you'll have to bring back your registration." I wasn't going to take that so while she was typing away, I called the County Clerk in Nashville and got a very nice lady who when told of my predicament said "Ugh. California calls us about 5 times a week because they refuse to post our samples. The book they look in hasn't been updated in decades."

Me: So if I asked you for a registration card, what would that look like?

TN lady: Exactly what you're holding in your hand. That's your registration.  They do this all the TIME! I'm gonna fax your registration and a blank one. Put me on with your person.

Me to #13: She wants to talk to you. The TN registration person. . .

#13: I can't get on the phone.

Me: But she wants to fax the info to you and talk to you about updating your records.

#13: I can't talk on the phone.

Me to TN: She won't get on the phone.

TN: Of course, she won't Sorry, I'm not fussin' at you (which I LOVED by the way). I'll fax that right now.

I pay and go back to wait while they wait on my fax. Fax comes through, I go BACK up to the window to hear: Okay, all you have to do is bring in your smog test and we'll give you your plates.

Me: I called this office yesterday to ask if I needed a smog test and was told I wouldn't because my car was within the 6 year window.

#13: But you're new to the state, so you'd have to get one.

Me: SERIOUSLY??! I specifcially called to get this answered and what you're telling me is that they gave me wrong information.

#13: Yes. Get your smog check and then come back.

At this point, I'm about to go ape shit, but I just huff out, go get a smog check and then wait in line to get a number, and then wait in line to see a representative. Who then took my paperwork and says "This isn't the Tennessee registration card." Five more minutes of explanation and then I FINALLY get my license plates. Yes, plates, because California is one of those places that makes you have one on front and one on back.

Total time getting this stupid errand done: 2 hours, 54 minutes.

I miss Tennessee. And Indiana.

An Open Letter to the NFL

Dear NFL (and all related broadcasters),
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I think you did some additional marketing research or something this year, but I choose to believe this was something done on purpose and not a random act.

I want to thank you because I am an Indianapolis Colts fan. However, I live in Nashville, TN. So, naturally there is a disconnect between what team is supposed to be on the TV and what team I wish would be on the TV. In years past, I've had to strategically plan trips to Indiana on weekends of big games that weren't big enough to be on ESPN or NBC telecasts. I've invested in Sirius radio because if I couldn't see the game, at least I could listen and watch my computer for live updates on the computer with graphics that look like an old football handheld video game my brother used to have as a kid.

However, this year I've gotten to see every Colts game so far this season. Today will be the 8th. I choose to believe that in an effort to support its very lucrative broadcasting and sponsorship contracts that the NFL did a little research on secondary markets. Seeing that each of its 32 teams have a primary media market that LOVES to see their team (and in the case of probably all but maybe Oakland it tends to be where the team calls home), there are also other pockets of geography that have a strong affinity for teams.

For example, Nashville has a very high level of Colts fans because of their allegiance to all things Tennessee Volunteer related and its favorite prodigal son, Peyton Manning. Couple that with being in the same division (AFC South) and it nearly guarantees that any game played by the Colts outside of the Tennessee Titans schedule will garner some great ratings. Really it's a win-win-win scenario.

I choose to believe in research, money and planning than the randomness of TV schedules. Because I want there to be a pattern and not to think that I'm just the luckiest non-Indiana living Colts fan. Either way, it's almost game time and I've got a front row seat.

Sincerely,
your satisfied fan