Warming Up

I know some of you have been waiting for me to write a post about my recent cross-country journey. Rest assured, it's coming soon, just not today. In the two weeks I've spent here in Los Angeles I don't feel like I've had the proper time to reflect on my trip and the many highs and lows I experienced throughout. So consider this a teaser as I offer up some of my early impressions of L.A.

So far, the big thing I have to reconcile with is the fact that L.A. really isn't a city to me. I think the best term to describe the geography and layout is that of a suburban metropolis. I'm not sure if that is a real phrase or if I just made it up. I really hope I made it up as it's one of my minor dreams to create a dictionary worthy word or phrase. Anyway, it's been a major adjustment period for me (and still is) as I come to terms with living in a gigantic suburban area masquerading as a city. I guess that brings up one of the pitfalls of growing up in New York; nothing, with the exceptions of Tokyo and possibly London, feels like a city once you've seen what a real city is supposed to be. Oh well, at least I get to drive a lot.

Speaking of driving, I absolutely love the freeway! Call me crazy, but I dig the high anxiety, no nonsense attitude that everybody seems to tap into the second they get onto the freeway. As I declared to my friend the first time I merged onto the 405, this shit is no joke and that's just the way I like it. Driving in the streets, on the other hand, is in fact a joke.

Further supporting my suburban metropolis argument, people have no idea how to handle themselves driving on local roads here. Traffic is traffic and I've dealt with it enough to know whining won't do anything about it. What I'm talking about is the way people drive during the off-peak, less congested hours. Nobody has any respect for the fact that they're* driving two ton death machines. People cut you off, they pull out into oncoming traffic, they get furious when you don't bend over backwards to let them have their way. Just today, this guy in an Escalade (the first sure sign that I was dealing with a douchebag) couldn't possibly allow me to pass him as he started to pull out of his parking spot. God forbid he waste three seconds of his life allowing traffic to keep flowing. It made a lot more sense to flip me off and nearly crash into the car in front of him. I bet he blames somebody else for his side mirror that was smashed to pieces.

These are the things that have been getting under my skin so far. There are lots of positive things too, but it's more fun to complain. When the time is right, I'll talk about some of the things I like here in L.A. and more importantly, the intense, humbling experience that is driving through this weird, wacky country we call home.

*At first, I typed "their" instead of "they're." I positively loathe this all too common grammatical error that the whole world seems to be okay with these days. Please bombard me with brutal, unforgiving criticism if you ever catch me making that mistake.