Once again, I can’t stick to a weekly schedule because blogging is shockingly low on my list of priorities. Regardless, it’s finally time to tell you all about my weekend in LA, where I visited my former room/soulmate Cala. Shout out to the dorm in Brooklyn that brought us together in summer 2017. Nothing better to build the foundation of a good friendship than 3 a.m. everything bagel roast beef scallion cream cheese gator dill chips, trying and failing to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge (also at 3 a.m.) and never doing anything during the day on weekends.
But that’s all beside the point. Two weekends ago, I took a $200 Uber to JFK to fly to LAX, where Cala so graciously picked me up at 1 in the a.m. After waking up at 5 the next morning – 8 a.m. NYC time, glad I’m finally used to my work schedule – I spent a leisurely day getting a blowout, eating at Sweetgreen and shopping at stores I could easily have visited in New York. But shopping is way more exciting on vacation, right? Sure.
So, you all can complain about the MTA all you want, but I love being able to get around without having a car or paying someone to drive me (btw taxis are cheaper than Ubers at night, just sayin’). Once I walked 47 blocks because it was nice out, but in LA that’s not really an option. There aren’t even reliable sidewalks, like come ON. I literally took a four minute Uber ride to get somewhere because my alternative was running across a six-lane freeway and hoping I don’t die. No thank you.
On Friday night, we went to watch Rocky Horror, because what else are you supposed to do in October? and it was kind of a huge letdown. People in Lincoln, Nebraska get more excited about that movie, I swear. I also met a group of people who hate living in LA – in fact, I don’t think I met anyone who actually does like living there – so that definitely didn’t help sell me on the city.
Saturday was better because 1. I got to see my cousin, Lauryn, who does actually love living in LA, and 2. we went to Santa Monica to eat, shop and play Skee Ball (mainly play Skee Ball. I won). But that’s only fun on vacation, not for everyday life.
Malibu, however, I could probably deal with. I mean I’m not hot enough or vegan enough to really thrive there, but it was nice while it lasted. The beach would’ve probably been better if we hadn’t popped a tire on the Pacific Coast Highway and spent two hours waiting for a tow truck, getting towed and acquiring a new rental car, but I guess you could call that an adventure. Our tow truck driver even told us if it had been a weekday, he would’ve just dropped us off at the beach and picked us up later, but apparently Sunday is a big day for AAA. He also told us people will sometimes deliberately run out of gas then call a tow truck so they don’t have to go to a gas station themselves? Weird flex but…. ok.
The final straw that turned me against LA was when I had an Uber driver, who had never been to New York, give me a lecture about the geography of Manhattan. I probably shouldn’t hold that against the entirety of Los Angeles, but I’m not the most rational person.
Ultimately, all the touristy stuff we did was fun and I love hanging out with Cala no matter how terrible the city we’re in, but I just don’t get the appeal. LA is like Instagram personified. Everyone is constantly showing off their best side and pretending everything is amazing. Apparently living in New York for three months has turned me off to strangers being nice for no reason. At least in Nebraska the niceness is genuine (usually).
I think LA would be a great place to live if you’re super rich or you’re actually successful in the film or music industry (so… rich), but I kind of never want to go back again.