I wish the title of this post was some kind of clever reference to hanging out with porn stars all week, but it’s sadly just literal.
L.A. sucks. It also blows. If it weren’t for Baltimore, Philadelphia and the entire state of New Jersey, it would be my least favorite place in the U.S. Sure, there’s lots of sun. Sure it never gets that cold. But it’s filled with a scary number of fake people and has all the visual appear of a bad cyberpunk novel cover. And that’s where I am right now.
L.A. City of Angels. Har frickin’ har.
I’m out here for training, and the training is pretty cool. And I like the idea of having some enforced distance from my typical responsibilities. But I wish I were in Boston or New York or D.C. or something.
I don’t mean to complain. I’m on an all-expenses paid trip to get training, and if the only price I have to pay is to hang around in a city I don’t like, it’s not that big a sacrifice. I wanted to give the city a second chance, though, and while my hatred of it has decreased a bit, my dislike of it hasn’t.
In other words, I’ve lost my passion for the city, but I don’t like it any more than I did before.
Ah well. I come home on Thursday and can resume my regular life. On the upside, I’m plowing through the first chapter of Sunshine Alley, so overall it was worth hassle.
L.A. still sucks, though. Nothing will change that.