Yay! They let me buy!

As he left for work on Thursday morning, Kris told me to "keep the L.A. driving to a minimum."

I took that to mean, "Don't do any of your crazy driving moves learned when you were driving the streets of Los Angeles." I notice that Andy drives much the same was as I do. Which also might explain why I feel comfortable in a car he's driving.

Of course, I feel comfortable in a car Kris is driving, but that's because we're going 20 miles an hour under the speed limit in the right lane, being one of four cars in California where slower traffic really does move right.

I'm not sure, however, what I'm supposed to do when I'm driving at a constant speed (one that was UNDER the speed limit, thank you very much), and another driver just sorta drifts her white Volvo station wagon into my lane in fromt on me. No turn signal. No hand signal. No indication she's moving over until she barely misses my front bumper on her way in front of me.

With no other cars around for at least ten car lengths.

Surely in front of me is the best place in all the freeways of California to be.

So, sorry, Kris, I did my L.A. driving. I dropped a gear, pulled left, accelerated around the I'm-so-safe-I'm-in-a-Volvo driver, and pulled back into my lane in front of her, having left enough room to be safe in the lane change, with signals on and working, to demonstrate to the lady, PROPER lane changing techniques.

I'm sure the lesson was lost on her.

Sadly.

After seeing this license plate:

I've decided that my next vanity license plate, when I ever decide that I'm really willing to waste money on a customized license plate, is going to be:

Not because I'm a United States Marine Corps General, but rather because I want everyone to think that I am.

Or maybe so that everyone knows that my car belongs to one?

I find it interesting that, in Southern California at least, it is okay to just leave your shopping carts in the middle of the parking lot.

Not only is this okay, it's actually ENCOURAGED by large, stand alone, retail establishments. How?

They put in one cart return location NEXT TO THE STORE ENTRANCE.

I'm 100% convinced they don't understand the concept of making life easy for customers. Look, customers actually don't want to actually WALK the forty yards to return the cart, so put the cart return spaces all over the parking lot for convenience. Do they think the loss of maybe 4 or 6 parking spots is going to adversely affect the bottom line? If anything having all the carts in six places around the parking lot will the time of that poor employee that has to spend 50% of his work day rounding up the carts from all over the parking lot.

And speaking of those parking spaces, I also find interesting the fact that, in the car-centric culture of Los Angeles, parking spaces are smaller around here than they are any place else. Maybe the reasoning goes there are more cars, so we have to fit more of them in to our parking lots, so let's make the spaces smaller since we'll have more of them? I don't know. I do know that even with my narrow car, I have to squeeze into parking spaces and squeeze out through my door to get out of my car and not hit the car next to me.

Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I should just open my car door into the cars next to me. Maybe that's just expected here.

I think I'll find a Jag to park next to next time. Or maybe that Lotus I saw.

I had forgotten how comfortable Los Angeles is to me. Driving into town two days ago felt like coming home.

Well, not home per se, but definitely to a well-known, loved spot.

When I moved away 11 years ago, I wasn't expecting really to stay in Northern California for very long. Guy wanted to retire and was looking at Oregon. The plan was to go with him. If I had been ready to retire (no, I have no freakin' clue why I wasn't ready to retire in my 20s - who in her right mind would refuse to retire mid-twenties? I ask you), I would have been gone.

Instead, I have a life in Northern California, where I feel like I'm coming home when I drive back. I wonder if it'll feel that way when I journey to Indiana or even Arizona next week to get Sam.

I guess, really, home is where you make it.

Either that, or where your friends are. Which makes all of these places home for me.