Dear Southern California,
I don't really know what to write about you. Except perhaps that, after spending four days surrounded by your hyper-glossy, overly-manicured beauty, a beauty achieved solely by what must be one of the greatest feats of civil engineering (or rape) in U.S. history, I now fully understand the whole subset of contemporary pop lit and music that both celebrates and indicts everything that we covet about your lifestyle—from Steinbeck's East of Eden to Nathaniel West's Day of the Locust to the Door's "LA Woman" to Joan Didion's White Album to Hole's "Celebrity Skin."
Because that beauty is also a curse. It makes one lax and conformist. Materialistic in the worst way. Sheeple-minded, ready to plunk down a year's income on a car, the equivalent of a small island nation's GNP on a house, and God only knows what amount on a series of lifts, pumps, sucks, and tucks that is skewing our normal notions of beauty and making it suddenly acceptable to look as if one has simultaneously been run through a wind tunnel and a sausage stuffer.
* * *
Dear Bebe, the Fashion Choice of OC Housewives Everywhere,
Why, yes. My life's one true sartorial dream is, in fact, to spend my days looking like a Kar-trash-ian.
NOT.
Look, dressing like a hooker in bed? Fine. In the grocery store or office? Not so much. In fact, if there were one fashion house that I would set a match to and watch burn to the ground with the glee of a first grader pulling his first set of piggy tails, it would be you, Bebe.
* * *
Dear Nissan Leaf,
There I was, trying to enjoy the high of completing my first half marathon post foot surgery, looking forward to downing an ice cold Corona light and condiment-slathered Nathan's hot dog before parking myself at the finish line to soak in the sun and cheer my husband over the finish line of his first marathon, when your chirp-voiced, balloon-chested, inexplicably school girl outfitted spokes girl decided to harsh my mellow.
"Hey there! If you have a second I'd like to introduce you to the Nissan Leaf. One-hundred percent electric with zero emissions!"
Shit.
"The headlights are made from 100 percent recycled plastic! All the metal is recycled aluminum cans!"
Crap.
If it hadn't been for the fact that in order to bust into the wrapping of my post race all-organic, 100 percent natural oatmeal cookie with no artificial trans fats or nitrates, I had to stop walking, and that stopping just happened to put me in front of said Nissan Leaf and its (inexplicably) school girl outfitted spokes girl, I would have walked on by without responding. Because I also needed to pee. Really, really badly.
Then, the heavens parted and drew my attention to something worth mentioning. There, located right next to the boring ass squirt of toothpaste looking automobile that no Californian in their right mind is ever going to drive down the PCH, was one of those rusted barrel-type trashcans, its contents stuffed to overflowing and spilling onto the ground. Mixed contents, let me add, including what must have been hundreds of empty plastic water bottles that were being given out like candy at the race.
Yes.
Moi: Chew, chew, swallow, swallow (really small cookie). "Don't you think that's a little ironic?"
School girl spokesperson: "Excuse me?"
Moi: "Well, here you are, pitching a car made out of recycled materials, but the trashcan next to you is overflowing with paper and plastic that is going to end up in a landfill somewhere."
School girl spokesperson: Blink, blink.
Moi: Clench, clench. "Excuse me, I need to pee."
I'll bet you any amount of money that when school girl was finished for the day? She ran to the parking lot, overjoyed at the prospect of driving away from it all . . . in her Mercedes.
* * *
Dear Corona del Mar,
Ignore everything I just wrote above.
Marry me.
Signed,
Moi
21 comments:
Although I can only speak for San Diego and San Francisco, there is definitely something in the water out there. Maybe it's the year round nice weather that turns everyone into hippie health nuts, I don't know. If they ever got some snow on the ground, you'd see how fast they be gulping greasy burgers and whole milk shakes.
Funny what you did to the environazi. Irony can be so ironic some times. Hope you made it to the bathroom OK.
Bwahahahahah. I love your question to the chippie selling you a "car."
Buzz makes a good point regarding why people in California are so obessed with their bodies/etc. I lived in No.California for two years and I worked hard to be tan (totally regret that now that I'm 51 and can see the damage) the clothes (I had huge credit card debt back then.) and I know it was because of the warm weather and because EVERYONE looked fabulous. I was young too, and I think the average age (and IQ) in SoCal is about 25?
California is a different world, which is why I like it. I'm into freakshows and spectacles.
Buzz: You make a brilliant point. No need for comfort food in California with all that sunshine. Which, really, isn't all that sunshiny. All that pollution keeps a nice grey haze over everything, so unless the wind is blowing it's kind of mucky.
Boxer: The image of you running around tanning and clothing yourself like a So Cal gal is cracking me up.
WTWA: I bet California sends your cell phone camera into overdrive.
Rib tickler post, Moi.
How'd the foot hold up?
I know. What happened to me?
bwahahahahahahhaa
are you a lucky little lady in the city of light?
the problem with california people is their overall attitude that they are the hippest most evolved human beings on earth! but like you illustrated to the leaf spokes-nymph; irony be thick as smog in SoCal. Lex Luther had it right: buy up some arizona land; hit that san andreas with a nuke; voila: beachfront property.
but like that house, i have to spare SoCal because Hennesy and Ingals - a city block full of art and architecture books in santa monica - is there.
fun post, Moi!
Aunty: The toe is still swollen, but very little pain. I had it snugged up for the run and all was relatively well during. Had to ice afterward. Slow process . . .
Boxer: Now, you box instead of Jazzercise-ing. Boxing is way cooler. It's hard to be bad ass in a pink and lavendar-striped unitard.
Chickory: Unfortunately, Scottsdale and Phoenix are rapidly becoming Hell-lay wanna-bes. But if it weren't for the impending threat of the Big One, I could definitely see myself living in a beach town. I happen to like that particular lifestyle, although I'd go higher, to, say, Carmel. Then again, I could go to the Caribbean or Flo'duh for much less moohla.
Moving to a beach town . . . Be careful. We did it once. Great little town to visit. Living there was a whole different story, mostly because of the people. If you weren't a seventh-generation pulp mill worker, military, or nouveau riche, very few folks to talk to. The artists and restaurant people were cool, but don't have much time.
North Florida, by the way. As north as it gets. Really, it's more like South Georgia -- and I have no problem with that.
First of all, the spokesgirl didn't have a clue what the word "ironic" meant and was hired by a modeling agency. (And that plastic bottle thing REALLY SUCKS, by the way, that has GOT to change)
Secondly, she probably DID drive away in her Mercedes to her crappy little apartment that she never invites anyone to as she's too ashamed and does all of her socializing at some trendy restaurant (like you do) I remember knowing people for YEARS and NEVER being invited to their homes...always met "out." Weird. And then there was the Persian Prince clothing designer that lived below us in West Hollywood that drove a Mercedes and came banging on our door one day asking if he could "borrow" hair conditioner and $20? Ah, no.
But SoCal is not all granola and hippies, remember, IN and OUT Burger is from there and it ROCKS! And there are loads of creative, super talented people out there, very stimulating environment and much more so than Flo-duh. And I sincerely miss that about living there. But the competition between them all will kill ya!
I was disappointed to find that many out there were not the free thinkers I expected but very conformist. Indeed, the DJ and I were considered a bit, er, "aggressive" and "East Coast" with our opinions. Beautiful part of the country but the people are f*cked. I miss my canyon walks but not the continuous pandering to celebrity.
So, more importantly, how did you finish and how was the restaurant?
Czar: Well, the more I travel, the more I realize New Mexico is pretty ideal. Except for the winds. These winds are about to make me go postal.
La Diva: It's very much a love/hate place, I can see that. I also see the comformity, in the way people dress, the way they talk, and what they drive. Sweet Jesus, you'd think there weren't any other cars in the universe other than Mercedes. And not the cute, vintage ones, either. But not a Prius, SmartCar or even a Honda to be found anywhere. I would also like to know why the feck someone needs to drive a huge ass SUV in So Cal. Cause of all the SNOW?
Since I only had four weeks to train and my toe's not fully healed, I treated this race like a training run and finished in 2:25. S.B. rocked his first marathon in 4:25. Absolutely beautiful course, with stunning views and a good section right along the ocean, but we were disappointed in the pre, during, and post race support.
Restaurant reviews pending . . . :o)
Geez. I was in Santa Monica for 36 hours in 2009, and I thought I was on a Prius lot. Maybe the bloom is off the rose. (Love our Prius, though.)
did I miss the haiku results?
Czar: They're great for tooling around the city. But for a highway commute like I have, my Mini gets better mileage. If I lived in town, I'd ride a bicycle everywhere.
Kym: As far as I can see, she hasn't published them yet, so you're good!
Ha, I love this post. I haven't been out that way in over 20 years but always felt that the weather was never as nice as expected ... I guess June isn't the time to go to CA. Glad your toe is healing and you are back to running. And running in such a fabulous place. The irony is definitely lost on the sales gal, who is trained to say her schpiel and not field questions. Which brings me to Education.
I miss you. : ( And so does your leetle friend.
Pam: I could have pushed it further with sales girl, but that would have been kicking someone who's already down. And that's never any fun.
La Diva: What's my favorite Italian wine? "Waaaaaaaah! I wanna go to Florida!" But not without a case of bug spray.
first of all, i'm tickled you got to run a marathon so shortly after your surgery.
Never been to so. cal., but have a cousin who lives outside of san francisco. he works his hiney off to make a living.
I would love to visit one day. you know, i've not blogged with you for long but i can see you stomping around so. cal. in your loubotins.
you did take your loubotins, didn't you?
Oh, the Louboutins. That's another story. Soon.
i know i left a comment here before blogger went bonk ....
did you take your loubotins with you?
Pam: It seems to me to be mainly smoggy. Yucko.
La Diva: I know I answered you, too, but that comment is gone, baby, gone. Something about an Italian girl's favorite wine: "I wanna go to Florida and see La Deeeeeeeeeevah!"
Foam: Blogger sucks butt—lots 'o comments left are now gone with the wind. No, but I attempted to purchase some. Attempt: fail. Louboutin now on my scheisse list. Jimmy Choo new love. I'll blog about it soon . . .
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