Pacilantic
Today I woke up late, nursed Andreas’ hangover (”Are you ready for your coffee yet?” “Yes, doctor.”), and then spent the afternoon with Amanda. We sat overlooking the Santa Monica coastline, basking in the sun and eating food from Falafel King. As we strode through the farmer’s market, a woman in a scarf and sweater asked me if I was cold. It was 70 degrees out! I was wearing an tank top and was perfectly comfortable. I suppose I could adapt.

Tomorrow I’ll be gazing over the Atlantic. That’s weird. I have to be at LAX at 6am. That blows. Then I’ll stay the night with my old friend Kate and her partner Melissa, then off to my interview Friday at 11am.

I’m trying to figure out if, when in NYC, I should go see “ground zero.” It seems sort of strange to me to go “see” it, like it’s some sort of macabre tourist attraction. I’m sure there will be vendors selling “9.11.01″ american flag ribbon pins and hot dogs. I did talk to a friend, however, who said his visit to the area was incredibly powerful. We’ll see.

I feel like I’m sort of doing an intensive version my NY / LA / NY / LA musings this summer. Only now I’m doing the two in rapid succession. Thus far LA seems to have the people and the weather for it, the people and the air against it. NYC has the jobs and the subways going for it, the attitude and costs against it. Then there’s Seattle, which has neither the weather, jobs, or subways, but I love it anyway.