I've been tagged on a meme by stickyfeathers, but it's another 7 random things, and I've just posted 10, so you'll have to bear with me on finding another 7 - maybe tomorrow!!
So in lieu of a meme, it's finally come down to this - if you thought my last posts were scraping the barrel, I bring you:
My Drive To Work
I have a five minute commute so this is going to be a short post. A tiny commute, but four distinct socio-economic zones. How fascinating is that? OK, maybe you're not all geographers.
1. High School
We live a stones throw from a high school, so close in fact that it's impossible to get out of our road between 7:45am and 8am without getting sucked in to the schoolkid drop-off vortex. Still, as I sit there, waiting for the slowest kids of all time to shuffle across the crosswalk I do get the opportunity for some stellar people-watching. The outfits are obviously the main draw. There are so many distinct cliques that it would take a proper post, not a bit of NaBloPoMo fluff to do them justice. Let's just say I am so glad that I got to hide my nerdiness and relative pauperism behind a school uniform when growing up.
2. Financial District
OK, that's really a tad euphemistic. This is a few blocks of downtown SB that's home to most of the financial and legal firms, where it seems you have to wear the Santa Barbara business uniform of chinos, pale blue cotton button-down shirt, navy tie and styrofoam cup of coffee. Women and men. I think this is the only area of town where people don't wear flip-flops to work. Honestly.
3. Athletic Grannys
Just before I get to the hospital I have to drive through a neighbourhood full of fiercely exercising Grannys. It's an area of large multi-million dollar homes, up by the Santa Barbara Mission. Beautifully manicured properties, sprinklers gently spritzing the perfect lawns and Mexican gardeners coiffing the bouganvillea. A place where no person under the age of 70 can afford to buy, and the only reason these old zealots are hanging on financially is because they come from old moneyed East Coast families and their property taxes haven't changed since 1923. The power-walking Grannys are always out in force as I scream through at 7:58am. They have a uniform of sweats, hats with ludicrously large brims, and absurdly large sunglasses (the kind with the wraparound sides). Their skin has not seen daylight for decades. They generally appear in packs of 3 0r 4 and they move with a fierce intensity towards who knows? Coffee? Sanatogen Smoothies?
Lots of medical people wearing scrubs and white coats with stethoscopes snaked around their necks. Don't be alarmed pedestrians, we are medics and are here to save the world!
Told you I was scraping the barrel.