In Santa Ynez

Whoever said it was always sunny in Southern California was lying.  We have been gifted with fog, hiding the mountains.  It's not summer here any more, and I should get some more jumpers.

Our apartment is regulation white, with regulation uncomfortable purple couch.  I'm looking forward to the day in a couple of months where I will wake up on Sunday morning, pad out of my bedroom into the living area, look around and feel at home.  I'm looking forward to the day I will be sad to leave and have to pack everything up.  We don't have enough stuff on the walls and the place feels unwelcoming, and slightly pissed off.  

I feel like I've free-fallen out of a plane into the middle of someone else's life.  This is called culture shock.  It's the shock part I'm really feeling, the bit where you hit the ground and realise that everything is new.  You don't understand these people.  They barely speak English.  They go to the gym.  They don't walk.  They told us about this in orientation, some kind of "cultural rollercoaster" or "cultural iceberg" or whatever, instead of telling us useful stuff, like how to get to Trader Joe's.  

Our part of the artificial village of Santa Ynez is inhabited by transfer students and internationals.  Maybe this makes us more likely to bond.  I don't know.  My two roommates are both transfers from community colleges in other parts of California.  We were meant to have a fourth but she didn't show and they haven't given us another.  We went out to dinner with the other families in our building, and got to know each other, possibly so now if someone is being loud we can tell them off nicely.  None of this sounds very interesting.  I'm scared out of my mind, for no reason.  Classes start day after tomorrow.  It'll be nice to feel useful.

I'm going to have to get myself a bike.  I've been convinced by the bike paths that are better maintained than the person paths, and the odd lack of pavements in Isla Vista.  They just suddenly disappear!  And you're walking on grass!  Or in the road!  People here ride big solid beach cruisers, like the SUV of the bicycle world, the girls in pastel shades of pink or yellow or green with baskets and flowers printed on the seat.  There seem to be a huge amount of sororities and fraternities, which I find endlessly fascinating, with their crazy Greek symbols and mysterious 'RUSH' signs.  Right now, I just feel lost.