Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let me introduce myself. I am a former New Yorker, who was, before that, a former Seattleite, and a former Las Vegan, and a sometime New Jerseyan, who has moved to LA. Most New Yorkers rather famously hate L.A.. I rather famously hate New York. I moved here about two and a half months ago and live 14 blocks from the beach. Contrary to most people who move here, I love driving, since I grew up doing it. I prefer the car, as ungreen as it is, to the subway. I never liked riding with a million people underground. It was incredibly claustrophobic; plus, the crazy guy always, always, always sat next to me.
Things that are better about here than there.
It doesn’t smell like some fat guy’s ass.
I do not have wanna-be gang members hanging out on the street with nothing better to do than to holler and stare at you.
I do not have to play hopscotch so as to avoid dog poop on the sidewalk.
There are not as many people all on top of one another.
It is not cold. Really, ever.
Did I mention the weather?
Sushi. All the time.
Biking happy hour. Something that you’d have to be suicidal to attempt in New York.
My little apartment complex which has no one above me or below me because it is only one floor. Which also means I don’t have to walk up four flights of stairs.
There is a yoga place a mere two minutes from my house. Instead of 20 minutes from my house.
Walking is a form of enjoyment and exercise, not the sole means of transportation. And yes, I do it more than most people here.
No more catcalls.
George Carlin said:
“L.A. is a woman saying ‘Fuck me,’ and New York is a man saying ‘Fuck you.'”
I got pretty tired of saying “Fuck You.”
Joan Didion wrote that New York is for the very young and the very rich. I am neither. So it was time to go.
Wish you were here. Bet you do, too. (Admit it.)