Dear people of the greater Los Angeles area,
I get it. You can all tell that I’m “not from around here”. I’m over 5 foot 2 and have a mid-west/canadian accent (I really hate how people from Michigan say their O’s like A’s, as in Maaaaaam instead of mom), I sometimes refer to the Freeway as a Highway, and I have learned that I must talk about how I got from point A to point B with out hitting terrible traffic (I took the 101 to the 405…). These, among other things, I am sure tip you off; which for some reason always prompts you to make me feel as if I have wandered into the wrong watering hole in the wrong part of town in the Old West, instead of into Trader Joe’s in West Hollywood (“you ain’t from ’round these parts, is ya?”).
Seriously though, is it that obvious? I mean sure, if I venture into Dollywood… I mean Hollywood, the land of plastic and manicured every thing I look a tad out of place. But in this great, big, thriving metropolis do I really stick out like a sore thumb?
LA is a melting pot right? So maybe I just need a little more time to steep and be molded.
None the less, I must admit, for the time being I am rather smittin with your smog laden, I mean Marine Layer ridden, city (I know, you all hate it when people refer to it as “smog” it just sounds so dirty). I will continue to try and win you over. In the end you will find my accent charming, my vernacular slip ups humorous, and my height valuable for reaching things on the top shelf.
Until then LA.
All my love.