Here's a snippet of my Ithaca Life:
Today I saw a man in the grocery store with a scraggily grey beard and scraggily grey hair who looked immuno-compromised, banging on a cardboard box shouting to his wife/daughter/grandaughter/girlfriend/ who knows, "They don't have my soda!" - he looked really angry about it. Not that this wouldn't happen in a California, it's just the sort of thing that has happened more frequently since the move. Then the check out girl asked me what exactly my kale was and I wanted to cry.