So, Do You Like ... Stuff?

I scoffed at the notion of allergies before moving here. SCOFFED, I tell you! It just seemed so vague to me. “Oh, my allergies are really acting up.” What does that even mean? I’m sorry these beautiful flowers are somehow making you feel less than 100 percent, but maybe there are bigger problems in this world than your fragile immune system. WELL GUESS WHAT? I take it all back. Two things about the Valley I will never, ever, ever understand are a) its bizarre predisposition for allowing rocks to hit your windshield on the highway and b) the havoc it wreaks on the bodies of people who have experienced zero problems in their decades of existence in other locales. I seriously don’t even know where it comes from. People talk about the pollen count, and I’m like, pollen from what ? Everything is a cactus or a dumb bush. I have to drive three blocks to see real grass in my neighborhood, yet I experience a violent, 10-minute sneeze attack every morning that thoroughly annoys...

Last week a rock hit my windshield on the 101 as I was driving to work. That, or someone was trying to shoot me, because that is what my windshield ended up looking like afterwards. Contrary to my claim last week that warm weather is already forcing me to use the A/C in the morning, a pleasant dawn allowed me to drive with the window open. And let me just say, had that rock made its way through the open window and onto the side of my head, I would not be here today. Because I would be dead. (From the rock hitting my head. I trust I am being clear.) It was nothing new that a rock hit my windshield because rocks hit my windshield all the time here. What is that? During my decade of driving back east, I cannot recall a rock ever hitting my windshield, and if one did, it definitely never caused any damage. But here in the Valley, every time I get on the freeway it feels like my car is getting pelted in a hailstorm of flying freeway debris. My only defense is the hope that none leave a ...