Hi Everyone. I’m back, and sorry for the few days absence: I decided to experiment with prioritizing experience over reflection for a couple days. Also, it was Spring Break.
The results are mixed. I had a lot of fun, but am now beset with two blog-related dilemmas. One, I have a hard enough time making a day’s worth of thoughts coherent: now I have that many more convoluted ideas to put down and am overwhelmed by the task of sensically arranging them. And two, despite my kinda-sorta-cautious anticipation that something might actually happen romantically in LA, something kinda sorta did–and I find myself torn between common decency and the urge to gush.
So, if you’ll all bear with me while I sort out this confusion and sudden bout of modesty, allow me to present a brief list of various half-baked conclusions I drew during the trip:
1. Crunchy Cheetos are delicious.
2. Everyone in LA is stoned all the time. Okay, perhaps most people are stoned most of the time. But this is the only explanation S and I could come up with for how chilled out everyone is about spending half their lives in traffic, and I feel pretty good about it. Also, in case you missed it, pot shops have become the Los Angeles equivalent of bodegas in New York and tattoo parlors in Albuquerque: they’re freaking everywhere.
3. Sometimes, a girl needs to make out with a cute boy in a strange city, in public. I’m just saying. Clearly I should not be one to advocate public displays of affection. Like most people, I’m more okay with doing it than seeing it–and as a woman struggling to find a boyfriend nothing is more grating than overt reminders that other people have them. But once in a while you find yourself in a place where people don’t know you, with a person who you may or may not see again, and need to experience the singular exhilaration of feeling that you are so attracted to someone and someone is so attracted to you that you simply cannot help kissing on the sidewalk. It just has to happen.
4. Often, stereotypes are true. Aka I saw a lot of fake-blond, fake-tanned girls in neon hot pants teetering around Los Angeles in stiletto heels. And listened to H, one of the friends we stayed with who works at a restaurant, explain with utmost sincerity how seriously LA natives take their proteins.
5. There is nothing so delicious as a hot fudge sundae from Dairy Queen eaten after ten hours of highway driving. Except, maybe, Cheetos.
6. California–and specifically, Los Angeles–is great, but I’m not sure it’s for me. As we entered the city on our trip there, S and I giddily blasted the song “California Love.” On our way out, I put on “Empire State of Mind.” “LA was really fun,” I said to her. “But I kinda think both of us are New Yorkers at heart.”