Bare necessities

Last night found us driving through Beverly Hills on Wilshire towards the El Rey. I don't think I've consciously been through the city before, especially when driving next to a [rented] Rolls Royce. For how beautiful and rich it was (in the way of the green, not so much diversity), I found it strange how I felt so alien in a neighborhood that exists in my backyard. My boyfriend - a native New Yorker - and I - a native Angeleno - met at the middle of the same conversational bridge: that as much as Los Angeles boasts being big city, it really consists of little cities scattered about that don't really belong together. There's no real consistency. In New York, at least my experience has been that whether you're on Park Avenue, in the Village, Gramercy Park; or Union Square, Williamsburg, or any other borough in Brooklyn, you've the opportunity to feel connected to every mile of the city. Again, that's been my experience. I can get there. I can't really get to Beverly Hills or Santa Monica from my neck of the woods, and to be honest, outside of lunching with a friend, I don't know if I'd want to.

At least there's going to be some catching up in the way of public transportation in the city. The bigger the population is getting, it only makes sense. For every person to own a car and further congest the streets/damage the climate is a ridiculous notion. I'll attempt to base future transit posts on this in the weeks to come.

Anyway, we saw Brooke Fraser at the El Rey last night. She was something beautiful. I think I'll be getting her album (Albertine) off of iTunes. Do check her out.

We're going to a poetry event type deal at Skylight Books this evening (Milo Martin and the Utopian Nihilists), and were thinking that maybe, just maybe we could hit up Fred 62 afterwards. I mapped the locales. They're 213 feet away from each other.

It's a freakin' go!