Driving into the city I knew I would never be the same. Spending any significant amount of time in a city so drastic, daring, and in-your-face could only seep into the very fibers of my being and change me for good. As I closed the distance between my new apartment and my old life in Atlanta (all the while managing to keep a constant speed of 30 mph on the freeway as angry road-ragers whizzed passed me, fingers held high), I felt Los Angeles sucker-punch me. No, really. I swear it did. In a matter of seconds, I felt my lungs lose their air, and the only thing I was left with were my memories of home. This would be my new home. Los Angeles.
In my next two weeks as a citizen of this strange land, visions of contradictions (not to be confused with sugar plums) danced in my head. With every turn of a corner came a new land. Who needs to travel? I thought. Just come to L.A., where you can eat at a Thai restaurant down the street from Korea(town), which is just a few miles from Central America--or so it seems. Los Angeles, to me, represents some of the ultimate conundrums of human existence--almost like the way a person can feel lonely in a crowded room. The rich drive their top-of-the-line sports cars past bums on the street who haven't eaten in days. Ironically, Hollywood is paved with broken dreams, yet everyone in this town wants to be a star. They never learn. And maybe they shouldn't. All of these hopes and dreams give Los Angeles its charm.
In all honesty, I don't know if I will ever look at L.A. as "my" city. But, does anyone? With the come-and-go, hustle-bustle of it all, the underlying theme seems to be "Don't stay for long. Don't get too comfortable. Move along." And along I go, finding my step with the pulsing crowds to a destiny unknown.
- Amanda Rossie