I hate LA

I'm sure I could have thought of a kinder, gentler title for this post, but after 5 days in the city of angels, no other words come right to mind. Rocket Boy and I have a lot of relatives and friends who live in LA and I don't understand how they do it. I just couldn't, I would hate it so much. Worse than Ridgecrest.

All of LA of course is not created equal, and I know that some parts are probably much easier to live in than others. I just don't like any of the places I know well. We started out this trip in the San Fernando Valley, visiting some of RB's relatives and attending a party for someone on my side. The Valley is a little easier to deal with, streets are not so busy, etc. But there's a plastic-ness about it that I find uncomfortable, as though no one there ever had an original thought -- and I KNOW that's not true, we have good friends there who have VERY original thoughts -- it's just the way the place makes me feel.

Then we moved on down to West LA, where my niece lives. My niece's house is charming, with spacious rooms, furnished in a comfortable, livable style, including bits and pieces from my parents' home which I love seeing again. She has a huge soft sectional couch in the living room on which it is almost impossible not to take a nap, and when I visit I nap on it too, as do my children. (Rocket Boy is a bit more standoffish.)

My niece also has a big sturdy dining room table around which many many people can eat -- or work on laptops, read the paper, converse, etc., all at the same time.

When we visit, Rocket Boy and I make use of the converted guest quarters in the garage, and the twins sleep with their slightly older cousin in his room. It all works out perfectly, and my nephew and his wife and kids drop by, and all 7 cousins (my boos are "once removed" to the others, but "cousin" is a pretty loose term anyway) run through the house and yard screaming, and we all have a nice visit, and everything's peachy -- until you venture beyond their house and neighborhood. And get stuck in traffic.

Maybe I just couldn't live in a big city. Maybe that's all it is.

We stayed in LA for 5 days, Saturday to Thursday, and I was happy as long as we stayed in the house and yard. Venturing beyond that was more complicated, but we did do some fun things.

Monday, Rocket Boy and the kids and I braved the highways to visit the California Science Center near USC. The museum is free (which disappointed me a bit, since I had hoped to get a discount through our membership in the Denver science museum), but they devote a lot of energy to trying to get your money anyway: parking, IMAX, special exhibits, even a $2 service charge to see the space shuttle. We were trying to save money, so we just paid for parking and lunch, didn't even see the space shuttle.

The kids really enjoyed the exhibits.
And we kept finding more and more and more of them, tucked into different parts of the museum. After a quick bite to eat, we went outside to see the Rose Garden, which I loved.

And then back inside to see more and more and more exhibits. Really worth the trip!

But my favorite activity that day was the quick trip we made to the Last Bookstore, in downtown LA.

I asked my niece if she knew of any good bookstores in LA and she said no, so I went online and found this one. EXCELLENT bookstore -- mostly used, but some new books too. I found the next book for my book group, some children's books, and 85,000 other books that I decided I didn't have to buy just at that moment. But if I lived in LA (perish the thought), I'd go here all the time.

On Tuesday we drove to Santa Monica and had an excellent beach experience: parked for 2 hours ($1/hour) at a beach park and spent the time watching the kids frolic in the waves. This is the first time they've not been afraid of the ocean. Kid A got a sunburn on his back -- our fault for not being more forceful about sunscreen -- also, usually they wear swim shirts -- anyway, I feel bad about it, but we'll be more careful next time.

After the beach we had a gruesome experience driving through Santa Monica trying to find a place to have lunch. We ended up at a fearsomely expensive seafood restaurant with only 40 minutes until our parking meter ran out. Yes, we made it through lunch in 40 minutes, but it was touch and go. Santa Monica has nice beaches but is otherwise a crowded, traffic-jammed mess.

Tuesday evening Rocket Boy flew back to Colorado, so on Wednesday my niece took the twins and me and her son to swim at the private club they belong to. I didn't even go in the water, just lazed around under a beach umbrella, ate a Cobb salad that the club staff delivered to our deck chairs, sipped iced tea. So, OK, maybe it's nice to be rich in LA -- but I'd rather be rich in Nebraska. Seriously (maybe).

Thursday morning the twins and I got on the road early, in order to be in San Luis Obispo for lunch. We took the 101 (it has that definite article down south, not sure at what point north it loses it), and around about Thousand Oaks I felt such a weight lift off my shoulders. Ventura is lovely, Santa Barbara, all that country up there. But I don't like LA.