Just don’t call this place home.

It’s been nearly four months since my last post… you know, the one that said that I’d post a little more frequently.  I suppose that makes me a fucking liar – good thing we have little to no audience!  Regardless, for the single soul prowling around this site, hoping for an update – today is your lucky day.

A lot can happen in four months.  I’ve seen relationships begin… and then end, school semesters are halfway finished, cars have broken down and been fixed, two weeks of the famous LA winter rains have passed, flights have been had, family and friends have been visit, plans have been made, and LA has lost it’s shimmer.  Yes, that is quite a bit to take it – thankfully not all of it happened to me.  Unfortunately for the citizens of the greater Los Angeles metro area, I fell out of love with LA somewhere around February 2nd, 2010.

Most of the time, when you fall out of love, or even infatuation, you aren’t positive that it has happened right away unless something incredibly traumatic has spurred the event.  With LA, this has been a long time coming, regardless of how much I noticed.  Nevertheless, it’s a good thing – living in Los Angeles is an eye opening experience… one that’ll leave you with a greater appreciation for the place you migrated from, a demeanor that will allow you to dominate the job market in that place, and a feeling that everything is inexpensive in your mother-state.

So why did I fall out of love with LA?  Many reasons which are actually quite easy to articulate when thinking about the last three years of my life.

1. Traffic

Traffic in Los Angeles is pure and utter fucking madness.  Anyone that thinks they can cope with the traffic by buying a $70,000 car and bumping Taylor Swift down the 405 is completely out of their mind.  As much fun as it is to loose my shit daily in the stop and go grind – no thank you, LA.  The car culture is infectious, too.  At one point, I found myself looking at $20,000 eight year old BMW and Benz autos – quite possibly the best way to get trapped here.  Thanks, but no thanks; I’d rather have the ability to leave this hell-hole of a city.

2. Home and Rental Prices.

So you like LA?  You’re thinking – damn, anyone that has a problem with 300+ days of sunshine, 75 degree days in the heart of December, surfing in the morning and skiing in the afternoon is clearly off their rocker.  You, my friend, are clearly on some type of psychotropic drug that I must get my hands on.  Since living in Los Angeles, I’ve spent nearly $18,000 IN CASH on housing.  Let’s put this into perspective.  First of all, $18,000 is nothing in Los Angeles – people use that as TP, grind it up and sprinkle it onto their cheerios in the morning.  I’m from Wisconsin, where $18,000 would have paid for 1/3 of my starter house.  Even better than that – I would have had 9 or 10 years to come up with the cash… not a little under 3 years for various studio and 1 bedroom apartments.  If owning a home is the American dream, living in LA is a little piece of the capitalistic nightmare.

Currently, I’m living in a 500ish square foot studio in West Los Angeles.  Yes, I am biking distance to the ocean (walking if I’m adventurous).  Yes, it is 70 year round.  Yes, I have a walking score of 92.  Regardless, is it worth $925 per month?  Consider this – the 4 bedroom, two bath home to the right would cost me $940 per month over the course of a 15 year loan.  That’s right, for 15 dollars per month I’d own this home.  This is a 2500 square foot house with all the amenities – including hardwood floors, dishwasher and all other alliances included, a basement, and a two car garage.  Currently, I’m living in a super retro apartment that has parking at a “first come-first served” basis.  This alone was enough to make me an expat.

3. Family, Friends, and Other Loved Ones.

Regardless of how much you can love a place, without people there to share your experiences with, live can become incredibly depressing.   Quick experiment – throw your cellphone against a wall, break your laptops screen off, lock your doors and don’t leave your house for a month.  This, my friends, is Los Angeles.  Complete and utter isolation.  As dysfunctional as my family can sometimes be – I love them to no end and it look moving 2000 miles away to completely see the mistakes I had made.  Even if that hadn’t persuaded me, the people in LA would have.  Pure and utter pretentiousness.

I suppose you’d have to think about nothing other than money to make it in this God forsaken city.