I got sent to Culver City for Christmas during a run of swell and wind. You think coal in the stocking is bad. Somewhat freaked out, days were spent online rather than outside, vicariously living through others. Day three found us driving to Malibu, transitioning from classic neighborhood blocks of houses with common cars parked out front to over the top mansions with fleets of sports cars, high profile SUV's and other crap squashed back to back along the edge of the PCH. Santa Monica: Flat, Topanga: Flat, Malibu: Flat. How can you be a surfer and live here? Damn, 3 days in L.A. and I am feeling bad for myself. I should be slapped. People live to see this place, let alone live there. Not me, they can have it.
Note: The most ridiculous thing I saw was at the local hangout. A park, the size of a small living room, surrounded by expensive boutiques had probably 50 women/couples, all trying to one up each other by showing off their babies/kids in the newest gear. Basically treating their kids like their cars and homes. No wonder people get weird when growing up in LA.
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