foggy sunrise, los angeles, 7am.
i work from home, often dealing with the east coast. i’m up at 6 and napping at 3.
while i wait for calls and emails, i take to the fire escape outside my window with my book and my coffee. i watch the sun’s ascent, over downtown los angeles to my right and the mountains to my left.
it’s the most peaceful part of my day. i’m weary by 3, tired of talking (amazing how we find ways to talk around everything) and sick from staying up the night before. but at 6, the day is fresh, the coffee is hot, and wednesday seems slick with possibility.
In line at UCB, checking Tumblr, taking Instagram pictures of my boots, seeing I’ve been retweeted and slowly turning into a cliche.
How to Deal With Rain If You Live in Los Angeles
1) Wake up to a fine mist falling from the sky. Realize it’s rain. Freak out. Tweet: “OMG! I can’t believe it’s raining in LA!”
2) Then tweet: “It hasn’t rained since…” and plug in an arbitrary date because you really don’t fucking remember the last time it rained.
3) Stare out the window at the drizzle and sigh dramatically. Say: “I guess I have to go out in this mess.”
4) Get in your car. Back out of your driveway so slowly that you hold up traffic on your entire street.
5) Slowly inch your way to the end of the street. Turn onto Sunset.
6) Brake
7) Brake
8) Hit 5 MPH
9) And then brake.
10) And brake again.
11) Look at your clock and wonder why it’s taken you so long to get to the store
12) Exit your car, wearing the Hunter wellies you bought because they are ‘cool’ and you saw a celebrity wearing them at the Grove.
13) Take advantage of your sweet new rain boots by jumping in a puddle.
14) Give up on finding a puddle because this isn’t really rain, it’s fucking spittle.
15) Drive home, get into bed, and pat yourself on the back for successfully handling such awful weather conditions. You really were a trouper.
Los Angeles
My days are long now. They have been long since I moved to Los Angeles twelve days ago, they have been long since I have refused to adhere to the time change and have sat permanently in East Coast time.
If I switch, I am here, I have not left. I am still the person I know, they know, you know.
But I am here, here where it has been a long twelve days. Because the sun is relentless, and it streams through my bedroom window and rouses me early.
I am here with a new WiFi password and pictures and friends, opportunities, feelings.
I’ve already gone through phases, which is so me. I have phases with things, especially food. Sushi twice a day for a month. Hot sauce on everything for three. Macaroni and cheese. Ice cream sprinkles.
And this phase? Reese’s Puffs cereral. So not healthy, so not Kelly 2.0, but I persist. I refuse to read the calorie and sugar count and I eat it instead.
It’s a phase I am having in LA, which is where I live now. Where there’s people in my life who feel like they’ve been here forever and New York seems like a long, long time ago.
Hello, LA. I am here.
I’ve arrived in Los Angeles.
Is This LA?
- Me: Well I want to drink before so that it's cheaper at the bar!
- Rachel: It's not like we pay for our drinks anyway!
