A Love Letter to LA

It's June in L.A.. And it's beautiful. It's starting to get hot, it's sunny most days, but today it's overcast. Everyone says, May Grey, June Gloom, and then you're blasted to a hot heat hell from July well through the beginning of October with little respite, so no one even mentions that part, except to ask if you're grilling on the beach and where you're watching fireworks. But the evenings are nice and crisp. I have an air conditioner I've managed to not use yet. Flowers keep blooming and filling the air with incredible scents. It's lovely. Wish you were here. 

The days are flying by. Summertime is always like this, it just races through and I've only started really enjoying by the time it's over. This year will be no different. It's faster every year, as you stack years, each season is a smaller part of your overall experience, and I've heard that's why time feels like it speeds up. As a kid, you have such a small sampling of seasons. They all feel special and important. As an adult, it feels like I've already had many lives. Segments of lives at least. And they all have many chapters. Like reading a very long series, the chapters matter less as they run into each other, and the segments of lives start to feel like books in the series. Important. Tons of detail. But as a whole, the dozens of chapters in each feel stacked and combined. 

It's strange to age. I still feel not ready. I'm so capable, so good at a lot of things. I'm almost ready to be an adult. I wonder if people in their 70's and 80's feel similarly. It really brings home the idea that we're never truly ready for the big leaps, we just have to take them. To make the decisions, to go/do/be/get what we want, and figure it out as we go. How terrifying. How exciting! The thrill is NOT gone, B.B. King can suck it. 

With such beautiful weather, it's hard not to have a positive outlook. It feels like the entire city is on my side this time of year. Everything is full of promise and ideas, so much is possible. That also means I have to carefully select what I want to do, lest I overspend, overwhelm, overindulge, and be a gluttonous pig of experience to the point of burnout. I've made it a habit to say "yes," since... Since March, probably. So that I can get out of the house. So I'm not wallowing in grief. And it works, mostly. As long as I don't overdo it. There's a LOT to do in this city. And the grief is abated in longer and longer spells. I'll allow it in, the grief, but I also have to allow some living. A lot of living. It's summertime. I can go back to the grief in the fall. It's more seasonally appropriate as a fall emotion. Moody, leaves, hot drinks. Yeah. We'll return to it then. As if I get to assign it all a time to exist and it won't overtake me occasionally regardless of my excellent suppression skills. Yeah! Control, baby!

L.A. in summer is prime time. People flee New York in the summer, and for sure, there's a lot of people who travel away from L.A. in the summer. But it's so full of vibrance, music, events, movies, dancing. Between here and Miami, I think it's a strong competition for best summertime city in the states. L.A. wins - because SUNSETS. You cannot beat a gorgeous L.A. sunset.

I've lived in Los Angeles longer than anywhere else. It's my home. I love it here. I love the weather, the people, the crazy and delightful. I mourn the pre-covid L.A., and I am reveling the discovery of a post-covid bloom. Things are finally finding new normals. Even with all the turmoil of the country as a whole, even with A.I. caving in industries and the film scene struggling, L.A. is a bastion of strong ideas and strong people. Compassionate people. Artistic, beautifully bold people. Funny ones, too. Some of 'em are just funny lookin', as my dad would say. I love that, too. I love this city. 

Until next time!
Love, Summer