Passionately yours L.A.

A fellow co-conspirator, Gloria Mattioni, has been in Milan for over a week. Although I’ve never visited Milan, her descriptions of the city and the weather sound dramatically different from the LA we know and love, especially in November. From her blog this morning I read her saudade for this city that most of us love.

Milan and I get along only from April to September. Any other month, I pay an unbearable price for my visit. And I start dreaming of the day I can come back to you, L.A. I did not give a damn about you for almost twelve years, treating you just as granted, and now I am all heels over head for you.

I am truly, insanely, sexually (as Mae West used to sign her letters) and passionately yours, L.A.

I can’t agree with her more. And with the sunny clear morning walks with the dog in the canyon, how can I consider leaving this dreamland?

One thought on “Passionately yours L.A.”

  1. I first lived in LA (born in SF) from 1979 to 1999. In the latter year, I relocated to a smal ltown in Northern California, convinced that I absolutely hated LA and never wanted to see the environs again.

    Well, let me tell ya … three years of living in a conservative hick town with no book store and a multiplex that only screened the top five box office hits and I ran screaming back to L.A.

    I’ve been back for almost three years now, over here in Glendale in my room with a view of the L.A. skyline twinkling in the night, and I have never, ever loved LA as much as I do after being away from her for so long. It’s like that annoying cousin that you discover, during an intimate conversation during a family Thanksgiving get-together, is actually a pretty cool person.

    Ok, was that too much hyperbole?

    It was.


    I’m stoned again.

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