Second Week in LA – A State of Constant Lost
I just spent ninety minutes getting from Santa Monica to Echo Park. Second attempt to find a place I’ve been before = second episode of hysterical crying.
I don’t blame LA for this. LA is just a smidge tidge unforgiving, but really pretty good with signage and gridlike layout. Yes, traffic is heavy, but that is no crime or surprise.
The problem I think lies in believing I know where I’m going. See, the first time I try to go somewhere, I am very detailed in getting directions and the street address and all the normal, intelligent things people do when trying to find a place.
The second time, I get general directions and wing it.
Rong, rong, rong. So rong.
Also, Google text doesn’t work here for some reason. This move has really exposed my deep-seated, passionate attachment to the Internet.
Fortunately I have at least one patient friend with a soothing voice. And an iPhone.
Thus I survived getting home at all.
And I took some ibuprofen, so my hysterical crying headache is rapidly subsiding.
I feel well now, so I only bring this up in case by the end of the month I have locked myself in my apartment, a maddened agoraphobe with Kleenex boxes for shoes.
I would have died of a panic attack. However – there is NO CRYING in LA. It’s a rule. There is also NO diving in shallow water, NO bridges icing before the road, NO running in the hallway, No walking on the grass, and NO leaving the front door open cause you do NOT live in a barn.
All of these apply – I’m sure you’ll figure out where to go and how to get there within a reasonable yet stressful timeframe.
At one point or another, there is crying in everything. It is like Jake hair.
I covet this Tom Tom strongly and have thoroughly investigated the eBay. Next paycheck it is happening — and it will become the most expensive thing in the Jeep, next to the new sparkplugs.
There’s no crying in driving!
I just read about a 250 dollar GPS unit that comes with free traffic updates for life.
I’ll dig it up again. I think I might get it. (I hope I won’t because money is good, but technolust is gooder)
Get a Tom Tom. My best friend moved to Texas with one and loves “him.” When I visited her last Halloween, I was quite impressed with his soothing and informative directions. Not so much impressed with Texas.
http://www.tomtom.com/