The more often I return to California, the stronger my love for New York grows. The sunshine makes my brain stop working. And no, I don't think that's a good thing. It feels like the majority of my time there is spent sitting in a car that is either A.) stuck in traffic or B.) careening down the freeway at speeds that make me anxious. The only time I really enjoy being in a car is late at night in the cab that is taking me home when Grandma has been out past her bedtime.
There are a few things that are better in California, though. One is the housing situation. My cousin just moved into a cavernous, quiet hacienda-style house at the top of a hill in Echo Park for about the same amount of money as a one-bedroom highrise apartment in Manhattan with about 1/10 the square footage.
Some of my favorite features are an indoor grill with hood:
A tangerine tree heavy with fruit in the backyard (backyards!):
And this insanely cool giant cactus.
I've always dreamed of having fruit trees: lemons, limes, avocados; maybe peaches and plums in the summer. But someone (who was it, Swiss cheese brain?) was telling me about the fruit tree they had in their backyard when they were growing up. When fruit was abundant, it would thump onto the ground and lay there until the rats came to feast. With the fruit fermenting and rotting as it lay, the rats would get drunk, stumbling and lolling in the shade. I don't know if that's possible, but I love the image.
There are a few things that are better in California, though. One is the housing situation. My cousin just moved into a cavernous, quiet hacienda-style house at the top of a hill in Echo Park for about the same amount of money as a one-bedroom highrise apartment in Manhattan with about 1/10 the square footage.
Some of my favorite features are an indoor grill with hood:
A tangerine tree heavy with fruit in the backyard (backyards!):
And this insanely cool giant cactus.
I've always dreamed of having fruit trees: lemons, limes, avocados; maybe peaches and plums in the summer. But someone (who was it, Swiss cheese brain?) was telling me about the fruit tree they had in their backyard when they were growing up. When fruit was abundant, it would thump onto the ground and lay there until the rats came to feast. With the fruit fermenting and rotting as it lay, the rats would get drunk, stumbling and lolling in the shade. I don't know if that's possible, but I love the image.
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