Homesick

It’s a very rainy, chilly afternoon here, and I’ve been wrapped in a duvet in front of the fire, eating toast and watching old episodes of The L Word. It makes me so homesick for Los Angeles.

There was a time when I loved LA with a passion. Although I was born there, I was raised in the mountains in Northern California. As soon as I got to LA, I knew that I was home. Oh, it’s changed so much since I lived there (and so have I). I wouldn’t live there now, as the City of Angels that I knew is no longer there…but today I miss it so much.

I miss hanging out at the Bodhi Tree, walking down the strand at the beach, clubbing on Sunset and in the gay clubs in West Hollywood. I miss all my old friends and living in Laurel Canyon. I miss looking out over the city at night, seeing it spread like jewels on black velvet. Yes, that is a cliché, but you always have to use it because it is the only one that really describes how it looks. I miss going for breakfast at Jerry’s Famous Deli.

There were a lot of bad times, sure…but there was so much that was wonderful. I was wonderful – and I suppose that makes me homesick most of all.