In case you’re wondering, it happened.
No, Miley Cyrus did not call to apologize for scarring me for life and forever ruining formerly festive foam fingers (holy alliteration, Batman!).
I, Julia Feeser, being of sound mind and desperate spirit, found my adventure.
It’s true. In TWO SHORT DAYS I will be flying to Costa Mesa to join Krochet Kids International as their new Social Media Intern (despite my overall ineptitude at getting any kind of celebrity to follow me on Twitter).
I could go on and on about this accomplishment, how shiny the medal I awarded myself is, the numerous compliments and congratulations I have received and/or deserve, etc. However, none of that matters in the light of my newest revelation:
I have no idea how to live in California.
I’m originally from Montana. And most recently Spokane, WA. The lands of Ugg boots, snow tires, and pasty, pasty skin. I heard they don’t even have seasons in California (insert that emoticon with its hands on its face and its mouth wide open in horror).
So, in preparation for the next four months, I have compiled a list of what I expect and/or fear to encounter in mystical California:
- Palm trees. Everywhere.
- Freakishly beautiful people. California natives have had all this time to grow out their beachy hair and adjust their skin tone to a color not equivalent to marshmallow. I only see the sun five months a year. So how is that even fair?
- Beach volleyball. No, dear God, no. Do not make me play a sport I already sort of suck at and then add SAND, which everyone knows is about as easy to run in as platform shoes. Except these shoes are made of hot pieces of grit and have glass and cigarette butts in them. So kind of something Lady Gaga might wear.
- Really expensive shopping. One time I went in Anthropologie in New York City and even a cute little drawer knob was out of my price range.
- Super crowded everything. Bars. Crowded bars. Filled with beautiful tan people who probably ate In-And-Out that day.
- In-And-Out. People, is it really that good? Because you hype it up so much now I don’t even want to try it. Just like I continue to not watch Parks and Recreation. Really? Really?
- High but casual fashion. I don’t own cut off shorts. I don’t. They feel weird. They make me look like I’m trying too hard to not try hard.
- Disneyland. What is an acceptable amount of times to visit the happiest place on earth? Lindsey Lohan said it best: The limit does not exist.
- Traffic. Luckily I have avoided this because I am not bringing my car. However, if I was to bring my car, I would live in fear that whoever was behind me on the freeway would see my Montana license plate and instantly give me the finger because they know we country folk are easily intimidated on large overpasses.
- And, finally, really good sushi. The only thing I fear is too much excitement.
Preach it, Lindsey.