I woke up missing Los Angeles this morning. Probably because a few weeks ago I had dinner with my Californian friends who were visiting Paris. Or probably I woke up to a typically gloomy Parisian sky. Or also because last week, when I was in Lake Como, Italy, the radio in my taxi suddenly played The OC's theme song, Phantom Planet's "California". "California, here we come, right back where we started from, Californiaaaaaaa...." I mean, what are the chances?
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The photo above was taken by my younger brother at Santa Monica beach, right after my older brother and I got off the plane at LAX from NYC. It was my older brother's idea to go to the beach even though the sun was already setting because both of us hadn't seen the beach for a while, as evidenced by our touristy pose taking photos of everything with our phone. My younger brother, the one who lives in LA, was shaking his head the entire time, giving us a look of pity as he failed to understand why going to the beach was such a big deal for us. Yo, lil bro, let me tell you something, once you live somewhere that isn't surrounded by beaches, you will then understand our longing to feel the waves sweep over your feet against the soft grains of sand. You know, you never appreciate something until it's gone, that sort of thing.
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