What I’ve Learned Moving From New York To LA
Instead of pretending to have read books, I can just pretend to have read scripts.
When you’re so depressed that you sleep through a beautiful day, you don’t have to feel guilty because it’ll still be beautiful out tomorrow.
There’s a much greater diversity of industries in Los Angeles than I assumed: You can work in film, television, or film and television.
You’re definitely supposed to do something specific if there’s an earthquake and I should probably find out whatever that is.
It’s not that Californians are obsessed with In-N-Out, it’s that East Coasters are obsessed with thinking that Californians are obsessed with In-N-Out. It’s pretty good. That’s really the extent of it.
I knew more Chargers fans growing up 3,000 miles away solely from watching LaDainian Tomlinson and Antonio Gates in those powder blue jerseys than I’ve met after an entire year in LA.
When you’re scheduling Zooms with people back east, it can be helpful to make a note that New York is always three hours behind. Wait. Ahead. No, actually—yes. Ahead. Okay.
Going to the beach doesn’t have to always be a day-long activity consisting of dragging coolers around for hours until finally settling for a spot six inches from a family whose kids won’t stop throwing sand.
It’s no longer only the New York scenes, I can now totally relate to the LA scenes in ‘Entourage,’ too.
Anybody’s dream of saving $150 on rent each month will be immediately shattered upon realizing that it’s slightly more expensive to buy a car, register it, insure it, and fill it with gas—or constantly Uber instead because you’ll never be able to find a place to park it, anyway.
Smells can trigger all sorts of special New York memories, from whiffs of pizza and bagels to melting garbage.
I think the earthquake thing involves doorways? Like, staying away from them or staying in them or something. That sounds right.
The desire to get up from my desk and forever leave the office without saying a word will remain whichever coast I live on.
Food trucks in New York can be good, but they typically lack the ambiance of using the hood of your car as a standing table at 2:00 a.m. in a Ralphs parking lot.
“If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere,” obscures how you’ll be specifically well-positioned to succeed in Los Angeles thanks to all the I.P. you’ve stolen from your cooler, more creative Brooklyn artist friends.
Friends and family back east don’t love constantly hearing about the sun.
People here really do care about how you look and what clothes you wear. Although now that I think about it, New Yorkers may have been just as perturbed whenever I went out in my tomato sauce-stained sweatpants and ripped ‘Lord of the Rings’ T-shirt after weeks of not shaving and simply never made eye contact with me.
While I’m at it with the earthquake thing, I should really learn CPR, too.
Everything outside of Hollywood is so silly and insignificant, it sometimes feels like life had no meaning before moving to LA. It’s quite disturbing, knowing that mere months ago I wasn’t spending my days trying to get my hands on the ‘Bad Boys 4’ script, let alone even aware the project is in development.
Moving across the country does not solve all your problems.
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Sam Spero wants a samurai sword. Follow him on Twitter @SRSpero.
