Goodbye, Los Angeles...
We've had a strange relationship, the two of us. Wouldn't you agree? When I first got here, you were overwhelming and busy, made no sense, and decided that temperatures in the 100's were the best way to welcome Matt and I to Hollywood. Then winter came, and you warmed us up with sixty degrees. At night. I remember the first time I walked outside in December in a shorts and t-shirt, thinking that life couldn't be better, and neither could the weather. Over time I came to love the winter and hate the summers, like most of my friends here. I learned the value of drivers who know how to drive in traffic as opposed to coming to a dead stop. I learned how to navigate your ridiculously unusable public transit system (seriously, get a subway stop at LAX and at the beach already). You then warmed the hearts of several of our friends, persuading them to live here, and we welcomed them with open arms, extending our community, our family of dear friends. You were aggravating at times, but kept that carrot dangling in front of me, hopeful that good things would continue to come along. Even with those crappy jobs, I continued to hope that you would help us stick around for the long haul.
Then the writer's strike happened, then the housing bubble burst, sending the economy into disarray. We tried to stay, we tried our best to figure out our bleeding finances so we could afford to stay. And we couldn't. We could afford a house in our home state that also offered a slightly cheaper cost of living. We tried, we did our best to stay, even moved to a cheaper apartment that offered critters in the kitchen with no dishwasher, but I'm sorry to say it's just not going to work out this time. We have to break up.
I was a different person then, and you helped shape me into the person I am today. I will be forever grateful. You will always have a place in my heart.