A Day in Santa Monica

"Taking steps is easy, standing still is hard." - Regina Spektor

I thrive off of forward motion, so naturally road trips are the ultimate remedy. Houses, people and cities whiz past and become tiny in the rearview mirror at highway speeds. On a road trip, you can get out of the car, take in your surroundings, and move on in time to forget anything worth forgetting. Fueled by gas, impatience, and curiosity you can hit the road in whatever direction you please.

For that reason, the infamous traffic in L.A. scared the entire car. Julia, Kristie and I all theorized about the traffic patterns of a city we'd never been to:

"Rush hour has to be over by 10am right? So if we leave San Fransisco by seven..."

"I bet lunch is hard to get around, so we have two hours in Hermosa Beach before we have to head towards Hollywood."

"Google maps says no."

It took twenty minutes to find parking at Santa Monica beach alone. When we finally parked and looked out, more discourse began. Julia wanted to stay. We hadn't had a beach day yet, and this seemed like the perfect place to get stop. Kristie loves all things pop culture, and was a Hollywood vote. I was the deciding factor. 

Immediately, I wanted to get in the car, to the next bigger and better thing. It was in my nature--the same way I moved colleges, then cities, then countries so easily and so often. But it was a beautiful day. There was a ferris wheel and famous corn dogs, ice cream stands and acrobats in the park. There were kitschy tourist shops, an aquarium, and an heart-wrenching singer-songwriter at the end of the pier, where Route 66 finally arrives at the Pacific Ocean. 

We'd see Hollywood another time.