Just As I Thought

16,900 miles later

I’m never going to be a Californian, but at least now I can say I am definitely a resident. Today is the day when I got California license plates. I forlornly removed the old plates…


… and put on a set that are far less memorable, with a 7-digit combination of letters and numbers that I’ll never remember. And I no longer have the smug satisfaction of “Clean Special Fuel” plates. My Prius is just not that special in California. Of course, I also no longer have the plates as an excuse — when I make a blunder driving around here, people who previously thought I was from out of state and thus lost will now simply assume that I’m a bad driver.

As of now, the only vestige of my life in Virginia remaining is my phone number… and a vague homesickness.

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