Love Letter
There are parts of the Los Angeles metro area where...I don't feel particularly drawn to them, but I keep ending up there.
When I first moved here at the end of June 2003, I rented dungeon space in this tiny random wholesale-zoned area in Pasadena, and somehow ended up doing a lot of my business there - besides conducting the man-beatings, I got a P.O. box, joined a credit union, worked a retail job, spent (and continue to spend) entirely too much time and money at the Old Town Pasadena outdoor strip mall heaven/hell. Simultaneously, I rented dungeon space in Downtown Los Angeles, and have ended up there time and time again for, well, more man-beatings, as well as photo and video shoots, parties, coffeeshop write-ins (like right now, with parlance), and after-dark drive-arounds, soaking in the deep joy of living in a giant city with a nightlit skyline that just fucking thrills.
And then, of course, there is Hollywood, where I end up for temping, for fluff journalism writing, for therapy, for shoe shopping. Burbank, where I go for copywriting and depilation. Boyle Heights and again Downtown, the drive over 4th Street Bridge. This one stretch of Griffith Park that is particularly quiet and gorgeous late at night. This part of the city I do feel drawn to. And Mullholland, too, where I drive to unwind until the winding of the roads unwinds my stomach as well as my mind. Runyon and Dixie Canyons. Santa Monica and Venice Beaches. Ultra-mega-gay Long Beach.
Five years, Los Angeles, and I'm more into you than ever. I can tell you feel the same. Happy Anniversary!
When I first moved here at the end of June 2003, I rented dungeon space in this tiny random wholesale-zoned area in Pasadena, and somehow ended up doing a lot of my business there - besides conducting the man-beatings, I got a P.O. box, joined a credit union, worked a retail job, spent (and continue to spend) entirely too much time and money at the Old Town Pasadena outdoor strip mall heaven/hell. Simultaneously, I rented dungeon space in Downtown Los Angeles, and have ended up there time and time again for, well, more man-beatings, as well as photo and video shoots, parties, coffeeshop write-ins (like right now, with parlance), and after-dark drive-arounds, soaking in the deep joy of living in a giant city with a nightlit skyline that just fucking thrills.
And then, of course, there is Hollywood, where I end up for temping, for fluff journalism writing, for therapy, for shoe shopping. Burbank, where I go for copywriting and depilation. Boyle Heights and again Downtown, the drive over 4th Street Bridge. This one stretch of Griffith Park that is particularly quiet and gorgeous late at night. This part of the city I do feel drawn to. And Mullholland, too, where I drive to unwind until the winding of the roads unwinds my stomach as well as my mind. Runyon and Dixie Canyons. Santa Monica and Venice Beaches. Ultra-mega-gay Long Beach.
Five years, Los Angeles, and I'm more into you than ever. I can tell you feel the same. Happy Anniversary!