I was just recalling my first encounter with Bakersfield.
It was October of 2004 and the boyfriend and I were passing through on our way to a long weekend with friends in Yosemite.
I'd never driven up Highway 99 before, and it wasn't making a great first impression. The air was orange and foul and smelled like a sewer. Farm equipment off to the side was kicking up great clouds of dirt. The windshield was being bombarded by bugs. And as we approached Bako, both sides of the highway were lined for miles with "Bush/Cheney '04" signs.
I turned to the boyfriend and said...
"What a hellhole. You couldn't pay me to live here."
So here we are, six years later.
I now live here.
And nobody pays me.
If only I'd kept my thoughts to myself...
