garbage

Landfill Land: A Note on the Garbage in Los Angeles

More than the high cost of living and the heavy traffic and all else, I hate the trash in Los Angeles. In the same way that the people in this city have desensitized themselves (out of pragmatics and, to some degree, necessity) to the reality of rampant homelessness, so they have come to ignore the excessive litter that lines sidewalks and streets. The garbage plays what would be the role

Anxiety

Los Anxiety

I usually finish a bottle of wine whenever I open it, especially if it’s red. My grandma taught me (no matter how true or untrue) that the wine will spoil by the next day. As it turns out, the wine doesn’t necessarily always spoil, but it will taste different on account of the sudden oxidization. The wine that I drank a few sips of last night was two nights old,

Traffic

Traffic as a Discourse on Culture

The traffic here is infamous. Despite decent walkability and an underrated metro system, images of backed up highways taint the popular perception of this city and, to be fair, the perception isn’t inaccurate. Highways are, indeed, often backed up. But after driving in LA for a few months, I must say that there are other layers to it. In addition to there being a far greater amount of pedestrians on

Local Los Angeles

Local Los Angeles

After we signed the lease for our apartment in Los Angeles, I found myself most excited about the location. We’re on the western edge of Silverlake, which is one of the hippest, most recently up-and-coming neighborhoods. It’s fairly central, and about as close to my work as you could be without being in Hollywood (which I had done before and probably wouldn’t do again). To put the location in perspective,

I DON’T FLY

I Don’t Fly Walking to work There was an abandoned cart With signs inside The cardboard kind, dirty Unfinished With luminescent paint Where did they get that paint In capital letters I DON’T FLY That was it   I don’t either What’s the point Should I give money do you need money What are you telling me   I know we don’t fly   Still they plead To remind me

Struggle of Los Angeles

Middle Shelf Life in Los Angeles

I was on my way to a wine tasting with friends—a small gathering with only a handful of the people in my sommelier class—and the map on my phone routed me down Rossmore and through all the nice houses just southwest of that area. I suspected that they were each somewhere north of a million dollars. They were far out of my price range, but the kind of houses I

The Broad - Los Angeles

Los Angeles: A Search for Something

December 2, 2018 It rained a few days ago in Los Angeles, so the air still feels cool and crisp and clean. The rain came a bit too late as it turns out, considering over seventy thousand acres or so were burned in Malibu a week or so prior. The fire could not be contained, and nobody I’ve talked to is very sure of how it actually ended. Naturally, I

progress

Progress Report: …Still Making Progress

I went to a writing workshop in late February and it really fucked with my idea of being a writer. Not only was it just…weird, but also, I had spent so long telling myself that I’d be happy around other writers, writing, and when I finally got there (or so, that’s where I thought this conference was), I was emphatically wrong. I cried in the parking lot and left the

Madrid

Self-Made in Madrid

So, about a year ago, I decided to move to Madrid. I bought a one-way plane ticket and told myself that I’d go live the life of a struggling writer, getting by on late nights with fleeting friends and really cheap wine. I’d perfect my Spanish by immersing myself in Spanish culture and dedicate six months or so to finishing my novel. I’d be writing and living on a budget.

forgive

Forgive Me, I’m Back

Please forgive me, for I have sinned. @ Jesus, @ you all, @ myself, @ everyone who has supported my writing and/or this blog. I’m sorry, y’all. I haven’t written for months now and I know: I am the worst for it. Please forgive me. BUT. I’ve got a lot of valid reasons. To name a few: For starters, I’ve been traveling somewhere about every two weeks (and I’d be willing to