I have talked sh*t about the Westside of Los Angeles for as long as I have lived on the city's other side--you know the section to the East of La Brea which anyone who lives there will tell you is superior. But with a recent job shift to Santa Monica [which is a city unto itself--a concept I still do not understand and only remember due to the strange looking street signs] and perhaps the fact that I am, ahem, getting older, I have recently considered taking the plunge, packing my boxes, and leaving skinny jeaned, indie loving hipsters for Birkenstock wearing, beach cruiser riding yogis. Horror of horrors--what has become of me??
I'll tell you--I think it's the quiet. And the closeness to the beach. And the higher percentage of trees to grit.
And this week I got a card to the Santa Monica Library. Which may not mean much to you. And, quite frankly, I only got so I could take out Spanish lanugage audiobooks. But to me it means Santa Monica in my wallet. And one step closer to a reconciliation, if not possible love affair, between the Westside and I.