Today, as I complained about how my personal trainer is trying to kill me, and contemplated switching from my meal-delivery service to a personal chef that my friends have been using, my assistant accused me of being "so L.A."
I mean, that's low.
Just because I have a dog walker, and a gardener, and my dog and I both get weekly acupuncture (from different people) and I do Pilates and yoga and, truth be told, I've been contemplating taking meditation lessons from my friend's guru and OHMYGODIAMSOLA.
Because, and I swear this is true, really and truly, I am SO NOT L.A.
I'm a mid-western girl, through and through. I like barbeque, and nice people, and I have a super intense work ethic, and I'm an idealist, and although I don't currently own a skort (shorts/skirt), I have and probably will again.
And yet, somehow, after twelve years here, I sort of am so L.A.
How did this happen? And when?
Was it the first time I pulled an all-nighter on a script and realized SOMEONE had to let my dog out? Was it after I gained forty pounds on "The Shield," where we ordered in lunch and dinner almost every day, and realized I was going to gain a million more if I didn't find an easier way to eat healthy?
Ultimately, at least for me, all of these L.A. adaptations center around my job, and how unhealthy it makes you-- the hours, the stress, the general insanity. And being single doesn't help. There simply isn't anyone else to do all of the things that need to be done. No one else is going to help carry the load.
So I hire people. And spend a great deal of time and money working on maintaining a basic level of health in an exceedingly unhealthy environment.
The truth is, there are many things about my job that I love. And the things I do to make the bad parts bearable... well, there are worse things than having to hire someone to make healthy meals for you.
Part of me-- as I'm sure you can tell-- totally rejects the idea of being "so L.A.," even as I know that the things that make me a cliche are also the things that keep me sane.
One thing is certain. My love-hate relationship with this city continues to be one of the most complicated relationships in my life.
L.A., if only I could quit you.
This whole "so L.A." issue brings up a question. Or, rather, several. As many questions as there are cities, really. What does it mean to be "so New York?" Or "so Wichita?" Or "so Detroit?" Or "so Memphis?" Wherever you are, are you "so" that city? And is that a good thing or a bad thing?