It's funny what happens when you travel. You start to picture yourself extending your stay.
Crazy questions like, "Could I live here?" begin to enter into the fuzzy periphery of your mind. "I could certainly see myself living in that sweet little bungalow with the amazing succulent garden out front," you answer yourself assuredly.
As I roamed around Atwater Village—my adopted home away from home during my stay in Los Angeles—I began to feel right at home. I had learned my way around. I knew which coffee shops had the longest lines. I was pleasantly surprised that The Griffin had amazing food (and went there twice in a 3 days—it's really good, you guys).
Sure, the traffic a few blocks away on I-5 would be a complete deal-killer.
And it happened to be over 90 degrees during my visit.
But spending so much time in that particular neighborhood carved out a little place in my heart. The shops, the food, the coffee, the people. The coffee.
I almost couldn't believe it. I was falling hard.
I didn't expect to write this entry. A love letter? To a neighborhood in Los Angeles? No way. Not my scene. And yet, here we are:
I love you, Atwater Village. Thanks for treating me so well.
Your friend for life,