So today I parked my car in the wrong assigned parking spot in my building. Now, if this were any other city this would just suck for the person whose spot it was. But in Los Angeles, there is this crazy little thing called tandem parking, in which the two assigned spots to an apartment are in a row, one in front of the other. So when I parked in the wrong spot, another person came up behind me and blocked me in. Ergo, sucked for me.

I was forewarned that you have to drive everywhere in LA but I tried to ignore the obvious. I brushed off the fact that I am a notoriously poor driver. It doesn’t help that LA is filled with bad drivers. I don’t feel better that I’m amongst my fellow disasters, but rather, now I have the added task of worrying that the car coming at me may also sometimes drive on the wrong side of the road!

It has been a week since I have arrived here and I would have blogged more, however, I can’t type and drive. I spent the majority of my hours in my car, and by “my” I mean one of three rental cars that I have had in the course of one week. I currently am driving a silver Volkswagen Beetle. When I first arrived I was informed that the only compact car left on the lot was a BMW 3-series. Not the Hyundai I was expecting, but I’ll settle. Day one, I back up over a speed bump and scratch the bottom. Lose my parking ticket to get out of the lot. Plead my case to the parking attendant that I can’t afford to pay the $24 they are going to have to charge me. Get a manager’s approval that I had lost my ticket. Pull out in a shiny BMW, appearing as though I in fact, could afford the $24. Night of day one, I drove a bit too close to the curb, and the curb scratched the car in retaliation. “Good,” I thought. Finally that pricey cost of insurance that is added in addition to the rental cost will pay off. I felt I got my money’s worth.

I decided to lease a Jetta and not once but twice drove to the dealership, a half hour drive, under false pretenses that my Jetta was ready to bring home. That was how I got first, a blue Volkswagen Beetle and then a silver one. When I went back the second time, I was told my car had a dent in it and was being fixed. I felt gypped. I had thought that I would be the one to christen my car with its first bruise. I’m ready for that Jetta to finally be mine, so that I can move into what is truly going to be my new home in LA.

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