Old Friends. Or about me driving a Jaguar around Newport Beach CA.

on

I am not that old. I am thirtysomething. I have come to try to cultivate and maintain my friendships with older women. They don’t always work out. Some older women have their own very strong ideas about people, what’s right and so on and so they are harder to befriend.  (Enter here the coworker who had a nightmare that I rolled my eyes every time she said something)

But the ones I do have I try to keep. They have great kitchens usually. If they don’t it is a little disappointing, actually.

This past week no sooner than I packed up my classroom I took a jet plane to Newport Beach California, where an older friend of mine from Russia had been invited by a rich friend of hers to spend a month.

I have never been to Newport Beach.  It was rather surreal.

I suppose it was partially because the rich friend generously lent me her Jaguar to drive, gave me her tickets to the symphony and gave me all her valet parking cards. She showed us the beach and the mall, and I guess with that we were set.

At the mall, I did notice a shift in my thinking.  Whereas normally paying 60 dollars for a skirt might be on the relatively extravagant side for me, in Newport Beach I found myself thinking-

“Maybe I should buy this 150 dollar skirt, after all it is very cute,”

Fortunately, I am very pregnant, which meant that nothing was really there for me.

We also went to Corona del Mar beach. It vaguely reminded me of the world that Abercrombie and Hollister ascribe to. It was a nice beach and it seemed that more than one person had one of those spray on tans.

In the evening we went to the symphony. We parked the Jaguar once again in the valet and went into the very swanky symphony house. We watched the symphony, which was very good even though it was the pops and so it was a little different, then an ABBA cover band played. All the old people got into it. The cheese factor was so high, I found myself waiting mightily to escape.

And my friend, Lyudmila, was so appreciative that I came to visit her. In Russia, I was her charge. Here the roles were reversed. She was the one dependent on me to make sure that we arrived in the correct places without too many U turns. She tried to navigate for me, but because she has never driven, she doesn’t really know how to follow the streets. It was not a biggie, the rich lady had given very good instructions. However, California drivers are utterly oblivious to any other being on the road besides themselves. And driving a car that cost more than all of my college education, I guess I was a um a little, okay alot more than a little cautious.

Lyudmila declared I was the daughter she never had. That was a pretty high compliment for her. I was baffled, but appreciative. My feeling was before that she had always considered me a bit of a neophyte.

So this is where I go and be in the world of rich people for 3 days.  I am okay with not being rich, except for sometimes when my couch keeps breaking.  Then I sometimes think being rich might not be that bad.

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Tom Humes says:

    Nice Site layout for your blog. I am looking forward to reading more from you.

    Tom Humes

  2. Glen Woods says:

    Congratulations on the new blog and all your activities. Take care!

  3. Greg says:

    H –

    You’re certainly right about the California driver. After spending a weekend driving in Los Angeles (aka Death Race 2000), I have a new appreciation for the more relaxed flavor of PDX.

    Hope all is well…

    Greg

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