June 7, 2006
Hot town, summer in the city ...
This candle is an apt representation of how I felt all weekend, melting and finally falling over into a puddle on the patio.
I never cease to get a little thrill every time I see this sign. It's close to the four-level in downtown, where all the giant freeways converge and there is much merging and weaving in and out of lanes and carrying on.
In the summer, Los Angeles is filled with tourists, and since Jennifer lives in Hollywood very near some of the key tourist spots, I'll see tourists crossing Hollywood Boulevard every time I drive to her house. They carry their cameras and wear shorts and look at the people in the cars (Hollywood and Highland is a traffic nightmare, you can easily spend a day and a half at a red light as the world walks by at a faster pace than the cars.) Occassionally they get to see a real bonafide Hollyweird freak with a case of full-blown crazy, and you know the teenagers get a thrill and the parents think, "California!"
I imagine what they're thinking as they look into the cars at the stop lights, because I used to be a tourist here, too, and I fell in love with this city the first time I came here. I looked at the folks in cars and imagined myself right there, one of them, pictured myself living in this place. Tried it on for size in my mind, wondered if I could ever be one of those impossibly busy and rushed city folks who honk at green lights and talk on a cellphone. The whole city seemed so huge and fast and choked and impossibly glamorous.
And now I live here, and I'm still a tourist deep down inside (Jen and I were at Target in Sherman Oaks on Sunday and we saw Jenny Garth and her husband both wearing sunglasses indoors, I never quite get over the fact that I can be shopping for cat food and paper towels at Target and bump into KELLY FREAKING TAYLOR, especially because remember when she totally made out with Dylan while Brenda was in France, and we were like... How could she?? But sort of like... FINALLY! Because Brenda? SO not good enough for Dylan. But also weird that she ended up with Brandon, as that is one step removed from eeewwww, having totally DONE IT with Dylan after Brenda did. Oh, Kelly!)
The thrill of living in this town just sneaks up on you, even when it's a million degrees outside and traffic sucks and the city smells like an outdoor catbox and I'm greeted at the top of the subway entrance by a woman naked from the waist down (have you ever noticed that people who show up partially naked in public are almost always the people who should be wearing a lot of clothing?) And even though it's true that sometimes living in Los Angeles makes you want to curl up in the fetal position and cry, it's still the only place in the world where you can run into Kelly Taylor at Target, then go home and watch your patio candles melt while your neighbors have a pool party and play the soundtrack to Evita and then bust open a pinata.
I heart you, Los Angeles.
Posted by laurie at June 7, 2006 10:12 AM