Adjustment

I wish I could say that the reason I haven't posted in the last few weeks is because I've been so terribly busy, but this would be a rather large lie. To tell the truth, I have mainly been wallowing in misery. There are a lot of things that frustrate me about life in Los Angeles, and there are a lot of ways in which I'm frustrated and ashamed at myself for not knowing how to do the simplest things here. I've travelled a lot, in far more "exotic" locales than Los Angeles, and always not only coped with, but positively enjoyed all the variances in daily life around the globe. It turns out that adjusting to living somewhere is a lot more emotionally draining than just travelling through.

Yesterday's outpouring of tears was caused by my inability to post a letter. Scott was busy, I was bored, so he asked if I could post his mail for him. This is something so ridiculously commonplace that I never even considered before the amount of knowledge one needs to carry out this simple act. My first problem came with trying to find a post office. Turns out that one goes to the UPS place, but I didn't know that. Then at the counter, I took part in the following conversation.
- Can I have some stamps to send this to England please?
- Sure, no problem. (girl takes letter and goes to frank it. pauses. returns.) Where's England?
- Um, Europe. (girl nods, and starts to look thorugh a printed list)
- No, sorry, it's not.
- Yes it is.
- No, it's not on my Europe list. (Girl passes over her book, which lists the countries of the world by region. I study it).
- Oh, it's here. United Kingdom.
- You didn't say that, you said England.
- Sorry.

And here I let the conversation end, not having the desire or energy to get involved in an argument with a stranger.

I spend a lot of time here feeling like a particularly ignorant and slow child, a burden on everyone around her. Yet at the same time, I feel ridiculously defensive. I've only just moved here! How am I supposed to learn how to do stuff if no-one takes the time to help me? It particularly annoys me that no-one here manages to say my name correctly. Fill-Eeeeee-Parrr is how I am to be known in this land. When I tried to correct someone and explain, no, that's not how you pronounce it, he became all defensive and asked me what I had against Fill-Eeee-Parrr. Nothing. I have nothing against it. I also have nothing against Susan. It's just that neither of them are my name, and there's something quietly soul-destroying about living somewhere where not only does no-one know your name, they really can't be bothered to learn it. Or even pretend to.

In positive news, Scott made me go to the chiropracter with him. I had been less than convinced by similar outings to Reiki masters and astrologers, and thought this would be more of the same. Lo and behold, it turns out that having your back "adjusted" really does take away a lot of pain. I guess sometimes being open to new experiences does pay off...