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A lone palm in the Mid-Wilshire area.

I missed my one year anniversary in LA. I’m sorry LA, I’m the worst. I’ll buy you flowers and we can move past this, promise.

I can’t believe it’s been 373 days since I moved to Los Angeles. That makes it sound like I’m tallying each day in my concrete prison cell. That’s not the case unless that prison cell is in a thriving city by the Pacific Ocean with a nice view. No, I don’t live in Alcatraz, why do people keep asking me that? 

If I wanted to talk about my one year anniversary the RENT way, then I’ve been in LA for 525,600 minutes and like 8000 moments so dear. You could also measure in Runyon hikes, in day trips, in extra guac and First Fridays. 

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Friends gather for outdoor recreation.

I’m onto job #2 and into apartment #1.  What I thought was going to be a land of avocados, hot yoga, and driving, has really turned out to be a land of brussels sprouts, Class Pass and driving. And so much more. 

There’s always an adventure waiting to happen here. There’s always something new to explore. There’s always another Syracuse person to see at Target. I am unbelievably grateful to be celebrating a year (and some change) out here and I cannot wait to sit in traffic and see what happens next. 

To my Cali surfer bros who I have yet to meet, thank you for fostering stereotypes so everyone on the East Coast has something to believe in. 

To Saturday Night Live, thank you for your extremely accurate Californians sketch. My friends really can’t stop with that. They really can’t stop. 

To Mom and Dad, thank you and love you. When’s our next Napa trip? 

To all of my new and old LA pals out here, I’ll see you at Mom’s.

To you LA, you may fill my lungs with smog but goddamnit I can’t quit you. Thanks for continually giving me your best.  Happy 373 Days Anniversary. 

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Here’s to many more Sunday starfishes.