I'm not happy that it's stopped raining; there's nothing you can say that will make me feel otherwise. Please let it rain for, say, three more weeks. I'll see the sun at some point tomorrow and it will make me sad. I have nothing against the sun, mind you; I understand its place in the grand scheme. I just appreciate it so much more after a good, long soak.
I wrote this to my friend today, inspired by a cool, gray Downtown LA morning:
"Lulu and I just came back from our morning walk. This time, instead of 6th to Spring to 7th to Main to home, we walked down Main to 7th, down 7th and into Santee Court (the building with the Rite Aid). They've made a few interesting modernist choices in there -- next time you come down during the day, I can show you -- but it's NOWHERE NEAR as cool as where I live. My place is the center of cool. (Okay, that's now officially where I live. Anyone asks, that's what you tell 'em: got it?)
I love walking these streets in this weather; it's like being home...like I've discovered a section of New York I'd never accessed before. Just now, I felt like I did earlier this year, that killer cold February morning I walked from the Twin Towers footprint up through Soho...I'd been there, but i'd never been there. Invigorating. Fresh, liberating. God, i'm such a city girl.
Down here, I walk past underpaid seamstresses, newsstand guys, greasy spoon operators, and the aimless homeless...and every once in a while, I see one of us, like just now: a hip, upscale artist-type dude, walking down Los Angeles Street to his car -- he passes me and we share this look, like a secret handshake with the eyes. Hey, nice to see you -- you live in the center of cool, too, huh?
And Lulu makes sour downtown faces go sweet. That's the best fun to watch."
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