I have lived in Los Angeles for over 12 years now, and one of the things that has made it a pleasant experience is finding ways to avoid driving, especially during rush hour. While I’ve used public transportation in L.A. off and on throughout the years, for the last six months, I’ve been regularly taking the bus to work — which makes me an aberration amongst my friends in this city…
Bonjour, Madame,” a sparkly flight attendant says. Her powder blue eye shadow takes me back to seventh grade. I blink hello. I’ve been butchering French for a month and cannot bring myself to utter one more word. I cannot wait to lean my head against the cabin wall the entire eleven and a half hour flight to Los Angeles. Last night’s farewell party was epic. That techno music is still pulsing through my eye sockets.
This is what draws me to Provincetown. It represents homosexuality at its most kooky and irreverent. You see a gaggle of old gay men in a restaurant at happy hour who look like they’ve been friends for decades and it fills you with a sense of pride and belonging.
With the many warm little clusters of people huddling together around tall buildings, the “cities” that dot our landscape like a misshapen constellation, it’s sometimes hard to understand why absolutely none of them are interesting or relevant. None of them, that is, except New York City.
This how you live the life of Bret Easton Ellis. Go to lunch with someone and barely speak. Leave lunch and wait until you go to dinner. The three hours you have between dinner reservations will give you serious anxiety and you will have to just drive on the freeway to deal with it.
Sexuality is so personal. Conservative parents, fear of disownment and religion definitely play a role in someone ‘s decision to remain in the closet. But at the end of the day, it’s all about whether or not that person can feel okay about loving another man.
A woman is describing the neighborhood of Silverlake to her friend while sitting in a restaurant in Silverlake. “It’s not as gay as like WeHo but it’s Los Angeles so it’s pretty gay everywhere. Silverlake is more diverse and full of artists. Not as gay though.” I never heard her friend respond, which was weird, but she kept on reiterating how Silverlake was “gay but not too gay.”
Los Angeles likes blondes, New York prefers brunettes. L.A. is all about promoting exercise by hiking with your dogs in Runyon Canyon, taking a kickboxing class, and wearing your workout apparel 24/7 to prove that you do, in fact, work out. New Yorkers maintain their bodies in secret at expensive gyms.
You should kiss someone if you like them. You’ll learn so much about them when you taste their spit. And it will also make you feel young again. No matter how experienced you are, your first kiss with someone always takes you back to that first time with that first person.
The internet likes to make you laugh. “OMG, funny cat video. OMG, funny cat with dog video. Look, it’s a baby who’s purring like a cat.” It has a juvenile yet somehow smart sense of humor. It caters to the lowest common denominator while still amusing the smarty pants of the blogosphere.