I Hate L.A.

Okay, maybe hate is a little strong and I don't always feel this way. But it is 100 degrees here today. I repeat 100 degrees...on the first of October. My body is hard wired to be wearing boots and big sweaters this time of year. I want cider and orange and yellow trees. 

Also, I had to run errands in my car. The parking lot at the bank was full at 11a.m. on a Wednesday. I waited in line for 15 minutes. Two of the roads I had to take were completely backed up because of construction or accidents and the parking lot at the video place was being paved and the whole thing was blocked off. The parking lot next door was enough to break a sane person and after the traffic and the bank I was no where near sane. There are too many people in this city and they all have cars. AHHHHHHH! 

Then to calm down I walked to the corner nail shop for a badly needed pedicure. The stations were all taken up by a gaggle of frighteningly thin girls who were dressed at 1:00 in the afternoon as I only do on very special occasions. One of them talked non-stop about how she just can't understand why she is so hung-over, because the Petron/wine/Grey Goose was all top shelf. It must have been the margaritas, who knows what kind of tequila they used in those. The urge to flick her in between the eyes was nearly uncontrollable. 

Okay - deep breath. Thanks, I feel better. 

Today Hillary and I celebrate two years together. It feels like so much longer. I mean that in the best way. He is, of course, the reason I am in this damned city and not my beloved Chicago. But he is the best reason, what I love most about this city, and I would move to Antarctica if it meant being near him. 

This is us on the first night we met. I was already enamored.

Photo - Alan Simons