Can I see some ID, please?

Everyone has an identity.

No, not like a driver’s license or even a credit card with your picture on it. I’m talking about how you perceive yourself. It comes out in all sorts of ways. Your hobbies, what you read and listen to, how you dress, even your email address or 

the screen name you use on the internet.

For example, it’s a pretty sure bet that the gal in your office who listens to Alan Jackson and wears cowboy boots with her trendy leggings is a country girl at heart, despite the fact that she’s never even been on a horse and was born and raised in Los Angeles.

And we’ve all spotted the guy driving the lifted Hummer sporting a New England Patriots decal on the bumper and a Rottweiler in the passenger seat. Despite his being of average height and slight build, he obviously sees himself as larger than life.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying any of this is good or bad. It’s just a fact of life. If you don’t believe me stop and take a look at yourself.

Okay, I’ll go first.

My screen name is “Lady Writer”. That and the fact that you are reading this reveals my avocation and the hopes and dreams I have for a future career as a published author.

The pictures on the walls of my humble abode and the jars of sea shells on my shelves are evidence that I love the beach and if you could peek at the photos saved on my computer you’d know without a doubt that my favorite actor (i.e. celebrity crush) is Johnny Depp.

My car’s personalized plates are evidence that the afore mentioned obsession has led to one with pirates and the stations programmed on the radio will tell you that I’m a Christian with a propensity toward classic rock.

I’m not a girly-girl. My usual attire is jeans and a t-shirt, though sometimes I’ll trade my tennies for studded clogs or kicky sandals. But when the occasion calls for it, a classic skirt and blouse combo with a wide belt and sexy platform pumps can really give me an ego-boost. As for my features, I’m always pleased when people tell me I look Italian (which is one-quarter of my heritage). 

So, yes, in my inner-most fantasies I’m dressed in my favorite Michael Kors ensemble, zipping around in my little red Fiat, heading from my beachfront cottage in Laguna Beach to a meeting with Jerry Bruckheimer to discuss turning one of my many best-selling novels into a movie. Oh, and after that my husband and I are planning to jet off to our villa in Venice. Johnny and Vanessa are coming over dinner.

Now… how do you see yourself?

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10 things I've learned after moving to Orange County

Not everyone is rich… Well, duh. We live in the OC and we’re not rich. In fact, where we’re at, the cost of living really isn’t all that different than Yucaipa.

…And they certainly aren’t all snobs. In fact, I’ve been delightfully surprised at how friendly and courteous the people we’ve encountered are. And I don’t know if it’s the economy or the area, but store clerks seem to be genuinely happy in their jobs.

People seem more informed and are definitely more conservative. To prove it, we have the OC Register – a truly intelligent and interesting newspaper!

The OC is far more culturally diverse than I expected. Having spent plenty of Saturdays at Disneyland or other fun places, I knew many Asians and Middle Easterners live here, as well as Anglos, African-Americans and Hispanics. But I’ve been surprised when people talk to me with Eastern European accents and I’ve overheard many families speaking German or Italian. It’s fascinating and I love it!

Restaurant selections are better. There’s more than just Del Taco, Taco Bell, Taco Tia, Mi Tortilla, Jose’s… well, you get the point. And there’s a Baskin Robbins in every town!

However… while there’s quite a variety of places to shop, Fresh & Easy and Wal-Mart are a little more scarce. Not non-existent, just a bit out of our way. Plus, Yorba Linda doesn’t have a Barnes and Noble, they have a Border’s. Make that had a Border’s. Yep, you guessed it – ours is one of the ones that’s closing.

Yes, the freeway traffic is a mess. The 91 is a parking lot going east at quitting time, which makes it tough for us to get involved with midweek church activities in Corona. Holiday weekends? Fuhgetaboudit! But you learn to have patience. And you vow that – despite the sporty image and fun of driving a stick shift – your next car will definitely have an automatic transmission. At least the side streets are no worse than those in the IE.

The weather is much more temperate. While this year all of SoCal has had extreme conditions, the summer wasn’t quite as hot where we are now, nor does it get anywhere near as cold at night as it did in Yucaipa. Plus, the air is more humid. Not as extreme as on the coast, but enough that my hair and skin don’t feel as dry and when the temps dip, they don’t feel quite as chilly.

Thunder in a canyon doesn’t sound the same as it does in a valley. Don’t know the science behind it. Can’t exactly describe the difference. But it’s noticeable and it’s weird.

Finally, I’ve always wanted to live in Orange County and here we are. Actually, I’ve always wanted to live at the beach. We’re not quite there yet, but this is definitely progress and... I love it here!

Learning from Solomon's mistakes

I think I suffer from adult ADD. My focus is so shattered that my brain begins to feel like a pinball machine. Each night as I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, I beat myself up over all the things I didn’t accomplish that day. Then I assure myself tomorrow I’ll do better. I start the day with the list I’ve mentally compiled and prioritized the night before. Then I grab breakfast and a cup of coffee and turn on my laptop. And that’s when things begin to unravel.

The problem is the constant battle between what I need to do and what I want to do. A tug of war, you might call it, between my inner child that yearns to explore everything and anything that catches my fancy and my adult sensibilities that nag at me to tend to my seemingly endless and most times boring responsibilities.

One of the casualties of this train wreck is my time with God. There are days I check my email to find I’ve let a week’s worth of daily devotions slip by unread and I can’t figure out how I let it happen. Reading about Solomon in 1 Kings 11:1-6, I think I’ve discovered a clue.

Apparently a king who had seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines wasn’t so unusual back in the Biblical times before Christ. But where Solomon went wrong was taking women that worshiped foreign gods, something the Lord had expressly forbidden him to do. And just like Mark Twain’s humorous story about Brigham Young, they all had their own agenda. Next thing Solomon knew, his attention was fractured and his devotion to God was forgotten.

Not all distractions are bad, just like not all of Solomon’s wives worshipped idols. But if the king had used the gift of wisdom God had blessed him with rather than letting his libido do the talking, he would have saved himself a lot of headaches (imagine being yammered at by 1000 women) and divine punishment.

And similarly, if I make my time with the Lord my number one priority the true importance of the distractions that call to me will become clearer and things will more easily fall into place. As Paul says in Romans 8:6, “So letting your sinful nature control your mind leads to death. But letting the Spirit control your mind leads to life and peace.”