So very long...

Greetings, readers. Whoever may be left of you. I would say I'm sorry for the break in witty one-sided repartee, but I'm...really not. For you see, writing is my catharsis, my expression, my way of reaching out when reaching out is required.

But I haven't needed to reach, or connect, or express any further than my phone calls, my emails, and to the newest, most exciting part of my life: my boyfriend. Yes, despite being posted in what was formerly more akin to Siberia (and now seems to resemble Florida), I have not only met a man, but a fantastic man; not only a companion, but -- dare I say -- the love of my life. Yes, I am in love, and it's beautiful...more than beautiful. And someday, when I'm feeling more ambitious, I'll try to encapsulate this most grand, pure, and divinely based of emotions. But that's a task I'll leave to a less trivial medium. That may be a pen-and-paper assignment.

So what will I discuss here, if not the many splendors of romance? The strangeness of Pennsylvania.

I've essentially lived here for four months, and there are certain things you grow somewhat acclimated to: the weather, the lack of Pacific Ocean, the abundance of hip-hop stations on the radio. But as I am (well, I believe I am) wrapping up my time in Valley Forge, I'd like to ruminate on what I'm puzzled by...and what I certainly won't miss.

BYOBs. They're freakin' everywhere. And I do not get it -- oh wow! I can bring my own wine! Well, yeah, it's cheaper that way...but in a state where you have to go to a specific store to get wine (and spirits...but not beer; I'll get to that in a second), it's rather inconvenient. I consider the wine list to be a special part of a restaurant's offerings; I don't consider the lack of choice to be a benefit. The perfect compromise is to go to places that don't charge a corkage fee. Bring all the wine you want...or get a glass from their (hopefully extensive) selection. Or a bottle. I just like choice, and occasionally cocktails, thankyouverymuch.

Liquor laws in general. So here, you can't buy alcohol from a grocery store (what I've found to be a fairly common law in many states, save California, land of heathens and wine bottles sold in Target. Oh, how I miss you, California). You have to go to a liquor store to get liquor, but you can only get wine and spirits there, no beer. There are two kinds of places to get beer -- bars/restaurants that sell it by the pack or bottle, and beer/soda stores where you can only purchase it by the case. But of course, only go Monday-Saturday because...

Nothing is open on Sunday. OK, so I technically should be OK with this. I'm a Christian. I've been back at church. I think Sunday should be a day to spend with those close to you, a slow day, a reflective day. But I'm from California, the aforementioned land of heathens, where you can buy liquor until 1 a.m. on any day of the week, where most shops and restaurants are open at least PART of the time...and sometimes my family time involves a trip to the store or a nice glass of wine or a dinner out. And trust me, we are SPOILED in California. Shops are open, liquor is always available, and...

MY GOD, PEOPLE DRIVE SO MUCH BETTER IN CALIFORNIA. People mock California drivers, probably because they're jealous. People SUCK at driving here. Seriously, they're terrible. They can't merge, they make last-minute turns, they slow down for no reason, they switch lanes with apparently no thought in their pea brains. And you may say "well, people drive poorly everywhere!" Well, yes. But they're worse here, trust me. If you don't believe me, you can ask my boyfriend. He was born, raised, and lives currently in Colorado, and he thinks everyone here drives like idiots (his opinion of California drivers may not be as lofty as mine, but we agree upon this crucial point). If you don't believe either of us, ask Kathy; she visited. If you don't believe any of us, you need way more proof than necessary. But when stoplights have signs that say "wait for green" so...you don't GO before the light turns GREEN...you're not dealing with the cream of the driving crop.

I'll write something positive when this is all said and done. Really, I will. But for now, despite presence of wonderful boyfriend...I'd really, really like to get home. Soon. So I can escape humidity and buy a bottle of wine from the grocery store on a Sunday.

Yes, I lied about getting used to the weather.