more things that are true…

downtown is undergoing some major renovations. i expect this is bc the olympics are next up here and the city would like to make itself presentable. the street corner on 9th and olive used to be a treacherous quarter of a block overrun with tree roots and broken concrete, and you had to be quite courteous for people with strollers or food carts and the like. now the stretch is completely closed off and i have to cross and cross back to get to my apartment. the block smells of sawdust and there is a haze of dirt that gets in my eyes and i’ve taken to running errands after work to avoid the block completely.

my favourite coffee shop in downtown got bought out at the beginning of the year and thus interrupted my morning routine. no more barista chris, and i didn’t even get to say goodbye. the wine bar that occupies the same space used to have hand-painted glasses that the staff made, ones that reflected their personalities or were themed around holidays or contained secret messages. it was a joy to compare glasses with friends and decipher the illustrations. it added color to the space, sparked conversation. i recently went to this wine bar post-acquisition to discover that the paint had been scrubbed off the glasses, and the staff directed to dress in all black as opposed to their usual individualistic attire. in "elevating" the look of the place, they have stripped the fun, personality and discovery from it. the thing that made that place that place. a place i’ve been going for three years and now have to accept will never exist the same way again. my glass still had a small bit of red paint stuck to it; something about it was deeply hopeful.

it is simply a transition period, just as the corner of 9th is undergoing, just as i am undergoing myself.

as it were, i have very recently very badly hurt a dear friend’s feelings. i don’t know what to do. i really don’t know what to do and i pride myself on always knowing what to do. i don’t know what to do.

i'm quitting my job at the end of this month. the timing unfortunately (for my dysfunctional company) lands right in the middle of a season, one with chases and rushes and late add styles like i've never experienced thus far in my budding career. the stakes keep getting higher. although i do have to say, i get a teeny tiny bit of pleasure out of throwing a wrench into the gears of fast fashion. sorry nordstrom rack, you are getting 2 t-shirts instead of 6 and i get to take a break. i think that's better for everyone, everywhere.

my plan after i leave said job is to f*ck off to the beach for a bit and go to europe to see family and take a bunch of trains before i get real serious about the rest of my ~~career~~ ~~early 20s~~ ~~life~~ ?????

i am terrified i am going to run out of money. i realize this is something calculable and completely in my control. so! we'll see what happens, i guess.

in the meantime, i will continue running around just as i have and pretending i am not going anywhere.

they installed plexiglass turnstiles at the 7th street metro center, i'm guessing also in part due to the upcoming olympic games. no more hopping on the train and skipping the fare, now i have to actually pay the $1.75 to get the red line (unless i want to take the E or A in from pico, where there are still no turnstiles to my knowledge). the bus drivers have been cracking down too; i used to hop in the back door or let my card decline but the last two or three weeks i've been getting the nuh-uh finger wag and i have to sit there, reload my tap card and pay. it's mostly a convenience thing. if the fare came straight off my debit card, i would pay with little to no complaints, but the hassle of loading arbitrary amounts of money onto a virtual card from my virtual bank account just feels silly. 5 bucks here. 2 bucks there. what am i gonna do, load $20 onto the card at once? no way in hell. so i do the dance and gamble, and a lot of the time the tap card reader is broken anyways. maybe if i paid more often they could fix them, so everyone could pay more often so they could build more lines and more people could ride them and we could reduce traffic, but i'm pretty sure it doesn't actually work like that and everyone in los angeles will just continue to have bigger and bigger and uglier cars and i will continue to weasel my way around. i've recently come to paying in random combinations of coins that i scoop from a coffee cup in my apartment on the way out the door.

i'm leaving this city in one month and ~~nine~~ six days now. maybe i am just looking for changes and reasons and things to prove to myself that i won't miss it that bad.

of course this is a delusion. i am going to deeply miss los angeles.

i am going to miss barnsdall art park and the specific glow there, and eavesdropping on first dates and birthday picnics. i will miss bus line 4 at sunset on sunset, and passing by places on the boulevard that i have collected memories in over the last 4 years. i'm going to miss my floor-to-ceiling sunlight every single day without fail, in the apartment that i first got my heart broken in and the next apartment in the same complex that i first broke someone's heart in. i am going to miss my cat monkey. i am going to miss the graffiti, woody and endem and razzo and the orange and teal and grey. i am going to miss my saturday walks to the last bookstore, the birds on broadway. laguna beach and that sandwich shop with the oddly republican-leaning decor. i am going to miss the smell of kendall's car and blasting old taylor swift and olivia rodrigo in there and singing with abandon with all the windows down and my hands through the sunroof. being a teenage girl.

i already miss the massive massive balcony at my last apartment, how purple the sunset looked from there while having a post-work cigarette which i have hopefully quit for the third and final time now.

i am going to miss rolling up on a rango-hot summer day, sweeping the apartment in the morning and then calling it quits and laying by the pool. doing this at every apartment i lived in (all 6). saint vincent de paul thrift store. claudia's family's backyard. my secret spot with the swings and the lamppost that looks like a cross and clouds shaped like how i imagine they were in the true america before anyone showed up here to stake anything. smell of dirt and outside. orange trees and kids shouting.

the sound of the train shuffle-rattle-shifting-back-and-forth and blasting music over it on the way up to south pasadena for no reason other than i like the ride.

more things that are true…

downtown is undergoing some major renovations. i expect this is bc the olympics are next up here and the city would like to make itself presentable. the street corner on 9th and olive used to be a treacherous quarter of a block overrun with tree roots and broken concrete, and you had to be quite courteous for people with strollers or food carts and the like. now the stretch is completely closed off and i have to cross and cross back to get to my apartment. the block smells of sawdust and there is a haze of dirt that gets in my eyes and i’ve taken to running errands after work to avoid the block completely.

my favourite coffee shop in downtown got bought out at the beginning of the year and thus interrupted my morning routine. no more barista chris, and i didn’t even get to say goodbye. the wine bar that occupies the same space used to have hand-painted glasses that the staff made, ones that reflected their personalities or were themed around holidays or contained secret messages. it was a joy to compare glasses with friends and decipher the illustrations. it added color to the space, sparked conversation. i recently went to this wine bar post-acquisition to discover that the paint had been scrubbed off the glasses, and the staff directed to dress in all black as opposed to their usual individualistic attire. in "elevating" the look of the place, they have stripped the fun, personality and discovery from it. the thing that made that place that place. a place i’ve been going for three years and now have to accept will never exist the same way again. my glass still had a small bit of red paint stuck to it; something about it was deeply hopeful.

it is simply a transition period, just as the corner of 9th is undergoing, just as i am undergoing myself.

as it were, i have very recently very badly hurt a dear friend’s feelings. i don’t know what to do. i really don’t know what to do and i pride myself on always knowing what to do. i don’t know what to do.

i'm quitting my job at the end of this month. the timing unfortunately (for my dysfunctional company) lands right in the middle of a season, one with chases and rushes and late add styles like i've never experienced thus far in my budding career. the stakes keep getting higher. although i do have to say, i get a teeny tiny bit of pleasure out of throwing a wrench into the gears of fast fashion. sorry nordstrom rack, you are getting 2 t-shirts instead of 6 and i get to take a break. i think that's better for everyone, everywhere.

my plan after i leave said job is to f*ck off to the beach for a bit and go to europe to see family and take a bunch of trains before i get real serious about the rest of my ~~career~~ ~~early 20s~~ ~~life~~ ?????

i am terrified i am going to run out of money. i realize this is something calculable and completely in my control. so! we'll see what happens, i guess.

in the meantime, i will continue running around just as i have and pretending i am not going anywhere.

they installed plexiglass turnstiles at the 7th street metro center, i'm guessing also in part due to the upcoming olympic games. no more hopping on the train and skipping the fare, now i have to actually pay the $1.75 to get the red line (unless i want to take the E or A in from pico, where there are still no turnstiles to my knowledge). the bus drivers have been cracking down too; i used to hop in the back door or let my card decline but the last two or three weeks i've been getting the nuh-uh finger wag and i have to sit there, reload my tap card and pay. it's mostly a convenience thing. if the fare came straight off my debit card, i would pay with little to no complaints, but the hassle of loading arbitrary amounts of money onto a virtual card from my virtual bank account just feels silly. 5 bucks here. 2 bucks there. what am i gonna do, load $20 onto the card at once? no way in hell. so i do the dance and gamble, and a lot of the time the tap card reader is broken anyways. maybe if i paid more often they could fix them, so everyone could pay more often so they could build more lines and more people could ride them and we could reduce traffic, but i'm pretty sure it doesn't actually work like that and everyone in los angeles will just continue to have bigger and bigger and uglier cars and i will continue to weasel my way around. i've recently come to paying in random combinations of coins that i scoop from a coffee cup in my apartment on the way out the door.

i'm leaving this city in one month and ~~nine~~ six days now. maybe i am just looking for changes and reasons and things to prove to myself that i won't miss it that bad.

of course this is a delusion. i am going to deeply miss los angeles.

i am going to miss barnsdall art park and the specific glow there, and eavesdropping on first dates and birthday picnics. i will miss bus line 4 at sunset on sunset, and passing by places on the boulevard that i have collected memories in over the last 4 years. i'm going to miss my floor-to-ceiling sunlight every single day without fail, in the apartment that i first got my heart broken in and the next apartment in the same complex that i first broke someone's heart in. i am going to miss my cat monkey. i am going to miss the graffiti, woody and endem and razzo and the orange and teal and grey. i am going to miss my saturday walks to the last bookstore, the birds on broadway. laguna beach and that sandwich shop with the oddly republican-leaning decor. i am going to miss the smell of kendall's car and blasting old taylor swift and olivia rodrigo in there and singing with abandon with all the windows down and my hands through the sunroof. being a teenage girl.

i already miss the massive massive balcony at my last apartment, how purple the sunset looked from there while having a post-work cigarette which i have hopefully quit for the third and final time now.

i am going to miss rolling up on a rango-hot summer day, sweeping the apartment in the morning and then calling it quits and laying by the pool. doing this at every apartment i lived in (all 6). saint vincent de paul thrift store. claudia's family's backyard. my secret spot with the swings and the lamppost that looks like a cross and clouds shaped like how i imagine they were in the true america before anyone showed up here to stake anything. smell of dirt and outside. orange trees and kids shouting.

the sound of the train shuffle-rattle-shifting-back-and-forth and blasting music over it on the way up to south pasadena for no reason other than i like the ride.