Why do I live here?

There are LAPD crime maps you can check out, to see what’s happened in the past week or month in a specific area.

As I compare neighborhoods and house prices it all becomes clear, when it’s cheap there’s a reason. And it probably involved a bad man and a gun.

Guess I’ve had it made in Santa Monica all this time and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve accidentally left my key in the door when I come in, see it outside the next day and laugh. My raggedy screen door from 1927 never had a lock and I didn’t really think about it. Now as I home shop, not in SM, I actually say “but it’s only a couple of car thefts.” What I’m staying away from are the murders and home break-ins.

Saw this remodeled house in my price range today. I looked up the details to find the investor paid 200k for it 3 months ago. He did a semi-nice job and is now selling for 350k. I’m into buying something not this finished, but it is sorta appealing.

The realtor kept telling me how the investor/flipper/demon didn’t cut corners. But um, he did put in laminate instead of hardwood and left all the creepy popcorn ceilings. Then we get to the bathroom, his “signature” she proudly tells me.

After I politely vomit into my purse, she actually tells me “fixing this house up is his way of giving back.” Yeah right crazy lady! Not sure even she believed it.

I’ve only been seriously house hunting 3 months and I already wanna give up.

Or just buy the next place I see and get it over with. It reminds me of finding the place I live in now, every weekend started with high hopes, and by sunday afternoon I was sure I’d never find anything. It went on for months, your typical naivete meets LA tragic. It did work out well, oh except the man who rented me the place just died.

The photos of the houses look ok, not too hideous. Then I get there, to the street I can afford and it’s crack house hellish. Sort of like arriving on a blind date all hopeful, only to wonder “what did I ever do to her?” I’m usually not a giver-upper, but it is exhausting. From excited to ick, all in the same day. And no, I won’t think about a condo, so don’t even go there. But if you’re lucky I’ll invite you over to the dump, after I fix it up of course.

Lately LA feels like a small town. In the good ways, not the scary-everyone-knows-your-hideous-personal-business ways.

My very first Christmas card was from the sweet woman who runs my dry cleaners. Then the lady at the library overlooked my $2 fine. My neighbor gave me a jar of homemade jam for bringing in her mail while she was out of town. The flower guy at the farmers market is happy to see me. Hey wait a minute, maybe people are just nicer around the holidays?

And just like out in the country, we have wildlife. A possum was on my porch eating my neighbors trash last night. So disgusting. And kinda hillbilly for Santa Monica.

Ok so LA is still just big and dirty. But easier to love at the holidays.

It sucks. And I only got serious and started looking a month ago.

My original agent named “Maple” has already stopped emailing me back. Turns out, there are tons of buyers right now and multiple offers on almost everything.

So I’m on agent #2 and hoping for the best. The minute something new pops up you have to see it and be ready to make an offer. I’ve seen plenty of HGTV but what the hell do I know? And this is serious. How can I commit quick AND get friends help that have offered. “Hello friend, you have 5 minutes to get over here and give me your opinion cause I wanna spend lots of money.”

And thanks, but advising me to stay in my great rent controlled place in Santa Monica doesn’t count as actual advice.

And I really did, until she got a new boyfriend and better stereo.

He’s there every weekend now, arriving friday with backpack in tow and not leaving until monday. I know. Our apartments are tiny and very old. Or charming and cozy, depending which story I’m telling.

This guy’s a loud talker and I’m already bored with his lectures. Apparently he knows everything about music and thinks I wanna know too. We both have all our doors and windows open and I used to love that. But as they journey from cd to cd, whether I want to or not, I hear music plus every stupid thing he tells her. Imagine sharing a house, or having a roommate that you never even wanted. The days of loving my quaint little place are over, until they are.

It’s called “I’m a celebrity, get me outta here” and I got sucked in.

I was desperate, it was the only thing on so I watched, a jungle full of snakes, spiders and crazy. Still not sure why stupid Heidi & Spencer (Speidi) are so well known, but their comments are scandalous. And totally worth watching. Spencer actually said “We are Brad and Angelina Famous” and then “We are too rich and too famous to be here.” Heidi is no smarty, but even she had to embarrassed by his big mouth.

Janice Dickinson seemed like she would be the queen of insanity, but she’s sorta been out crazied by Speidi. They actually prayed like born agains, then blamed the devil for making them leave. For 3 days now they’ve left in a huff, only to come back the next day all sorry and shit. The show is supposedly live. So maybe they realize how obnoxious they were, or someone shows them footage, and they come back to apologize and seem normal for 5 minutes.

I’m sorry everyone. That I live in a city that created those 2 nuts and such a crappy but sorta hilarious show.

Their 15 minutes is way expired, someone please dismiss these fame whores.

Nothing like showing a friend around Santa Monica to remind me why I live here. Because it’s damn amazing in a zillion ways is why. I get to tell her the story of how I came here on vacation to think about moving. Saw runners on the bluff in Palisades Park overlooking the beach at sunset, and decided I had to live in a place where that’s an everyday thing. It’s a gorgeous sunny day as we drive around and everything seems possible.

Next week I can tell you all the shit I hate about living here, but today let’s go with the good stuff.

Tourists are all over and I want to scream “HEY I get to live here all the time.” The incline there, that goes down to the beach and out to MALIBU. Yes. I live a mile from the beach and this is my little neighborhood. I show her the crazy Santa Monica Stairs where it’s celebs and sluts galore. It’s just another weird LA workout when you think about it, but the ocean view up top is so worth the hassle. P.S. Owen Wilson and Amber Veletta look hot even when sweaty.

I get busy and take things for granted. But this place, holy shit. How did I get so lucky to land here, find a great apartment, a career and good friends. I know compared to the movers and shakers in this city…my life may be small, but it’s all mine. I really am living exactly where I want to be. It’s the life I wanted, but just never knew about. How surprised my ex-husband would be.

Recently I had big plans for a friday night after work and I was dressed up. I felt powerful all day. So when the plans fell through, I was determined to go out anyway. No sense wasting good dry cleaning. A new wine shop I’d been wanting to try had a tasting so I got brave and drove the hour away.

Wine tastings are typically casual things with friendly loners and people open to chit chat. It was a cool place, crowded and laid out more like a bar with a few shelves of wine. Oh great, I was almost going to a bar alone on a friday night. But I’ve gone to plenty of things by myself, I’m not scared. The woman who started the place with her husband, was friendly as she checked me in. I told her I had read about them and what a great place I’d heard it was. She would be the last person to speak to me all night.

There were small groups of friends and a few couples. I casually wandered around in that Hey I’m fine, I hardly notice that I’m alone way. Intently reading the labels and staring at the art. Wondering if hiding out in the ladies room would be too obvious in such a small place. The actress posing as bartender must have been auditioning for the role of BITCH. Somber and snarly, stringy hair in face, she actually seemed mad at me. Deep breath….This will be funny someday. It would be funny that day, if only there was a camera hidden somewhere.

I rushed through the generous servings of 6 wines. Usually it’s great when the pours are more than a splash. But I had an hours drive home and I wanted this to be over. I was getting kinda desperate, at the cheese table I tried to strike up a conversation with a woman. I’m outgoing and I can usually talk to anyone. Shit, I’ve even been called charming and engaging. But nobody would make eye contact. Let’s talk about wine, cheese, anything. I hope this isn’t how I am when I’m out and a friendly but uncomfortable girl wants to talk about cheese.

My big outing was a downer. I blame the bitchy city of Eagle Rock and all the snobs at Colorado Wine Company.