In 11 more hours it will officially be 2008 in Los Angeles, CA. Time has flewn by so fast this year that I haven't really had the chance to sit back and reflect about how my transition has been. Not necessarily my transition out of college into the real world, but my transition into the California lifestyle.
Let me tell you, Californians are goddamn crazy. I really don't know where to start. There's the parking, the gang violence, the incredibly rediculous housing costs, the randomly assigned taxes, the random man who comes up to my door and takes all of my money (he told me he had candy!), the green tinted sky line, the threat of fires burning everything I have down to the ground .... perhaps I'll limit it to those precious things for now.
Today, I chose to focus on my transition to crappy Los Angeles housing. See, growing up, I hung out around houses like this:
I had the unfortunat luck to have no choice but to move into a neighborhood like this:
Ok, just kidding, that's really some war torn area in Africa or Tanzenia or some crap like that. My neighborhood is somewhat classier. I had to really sit down with myself and think "Christina, spend the $100 more a month for the safer neighborhood, your little half asian ass might be thankful for it one day." Therefor, I swallowed my future wallet, sold off all of my unborn unovulated children, and signed up for a neighborhood that looks more like this:
Seriously though, most of the San Fernando Valley looks like Satan's asshole exploded and somebody forgot to pick up afterwards. I mean, I'm afraid to go outside of my apartment when the sun goes down! I've turned into my mother! I can hear her non-elderly words now "Oh my God Christina, there are MURDERERS out there just waiting for you once the lights go out! They're going to KILL you!" Goddamn, I'm suprised I haven't died yet. I mean, between the war torn neighborhoods of Tarzana and my seriously insane meth lab neighbors, who I'm convinced is leading an arian nation inside his apartment, I'm suprised I haven't at least lost a limb yet. I mean, not even a toe!
Moving on, for all of the glamour I live in I pay a measly $1,000 a month for 400sf of delectable living space. $1,000 a month for the ritzes! Seriously, with the rent I pay, I could have bought a brand new flat panel every month. Perhaps even started investing more in my 401k. Eh, who wants to retire when I could be bossed around all day long and go home hating my life! Not me! Once again, my own decision. At least I'm making it 100% on my own.
As a bonus, here's the crime map of my neighborhood so that you guys know I'm not making this crazy story up:
