A LETTER TO LOS ANGELES ON THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF MY MOVING HERE

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    Dear Los Angeles,
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    Happy first anniversary!
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    Can you believe it's been a year already? They say the first year of any new relationship is often tumultuous - and boy have we had our moments - but I'm still here, baby! (At least until you inevitably run out of water and crumble to dust.)
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    It feels like just yesterday I drove into the heart of you for the first time, my entire life packed in the backseat of my car, blaring The OC theme song as I beamed with excitement in the sunny stagnancy of your smoggy highway system. California, here we come!
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    And for the most part our first year has been filled with equally sunny memories: trips to the beach and the movies, making new friends and rekindling old ties. Putting down roots and starting to carve a path toward my goals.
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    You haven't always been easy to live in, sure. There was that time you impounded my car in Glendale and demanded I pay you an ungodly amount of money to get it back. That was shitty of you. And then there was the time it was so hot here during the summer that I fainted in the shower and got a giant bruise on my hip. It's still faintly visible.
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    But I'm not mad.
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    Bc for every parking ticket you give me, every overpriced burrito, every traffic jam - for every way that you are stupid and irritating
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    There is a silver lining.
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    An unusually kind and helpful Lyft driver.
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    An incredible museum or gallery or show or screening or event.
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    A clique of hilarious and intelligent women who also live in this city and use the same niche social media app to write jokes and essays and jeremiads. πŸ‘ˆπŸ½ the biggest silver lining of all
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    So here's to us, Los Angeles, and another year of silver linings.
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    And for this next year? Surprise me.
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    🍾🍾🍾🍾🍾
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    But honestly, stop giving me fucking parking tickets I hate you.