Timehop (or "Facebook Memories", whichever app you may or may not use) is a beautiful thing.
If you aren't familiar, it allows you to login to all of your social media sites and it compiles posts, pictures, etc. that you've posted since you've opened those accounts. For someone who has been on social media for years, there's so much to look at and reminisce over as time goes on.
It really gets me to thinking just how quickly time truly flies by.
I recently reinstalled Timehop as I hadn't had it for a while.
The past few days, all of these photos from my time spent in Los Angeles have been popping up. And for a split second (just a second), I missed it.
The photo that popped up today was from 4 years ago--a day I will never forget. I had off from work, as did my best friend. He had grown up in LA and knew it like the back of his hand. I was still very much so a "newbie" to the city and had no idea what was in store for me.
He met me in North Hollywood at my apartment in the valley. From there, we walked about three blocks away to The Fed, an amazing bar (the only amazing bar in NoHo, in my opinion) that immediately became our "local". I had a martini for the first time. He practically forced me to eat bruschetta (which I had always been terrified of because I have always disliked tomatoes) and I actually enjoyed it. We walked another block and a half to the Metro.
I had been on a subway once or twice in my life (both times in New York or Boston), and didn't even realize there was a subway system in LA, to be honest. He showed me how to get a Metro card, we jumped on the train and we were off to Hollywood. It blew my mind how quickly we got there! Had we taken the freeway around the mountain or the canyons through the mountain, it would have taken us an hour. Instead, we were there in 20 minutes or less.
He asked me if I had ever been to the Standard downtown (at least, I think it was the Standard). I looked at him blankly and told him I really had never been anywhere in LA. Besides the beach and the small area of Beverly Hills we worked in, I had never gone out exploring on my own.
He proceeded to take me to the hotel where we were taken to the roof top. There were luxurious planters, three pools and all of these "pods". They were water beds where you could lay while a bartender came to get your drink order. Looking up you could barely make out the stars through the lights of downtown Los Angeles's skyline. I just remember drinking around all of these other LA "locals" and realizing I was one of them. I lived here too. I wasn't a tourist this time, I actually lived here. This was my home. It was fancy and extravagant, and something I had never in a million years imagined for myself.
Afterwards, we stopped inside another hotel (I wish I remembered the name of it) with intricate paintings on the ceilings, people were wearing suits and I felt so out of place in my jeans and blouse.
We then went into another bar. The Edison. This one was unbelievable. It was in the basement of a building that used to be a private power plant. It had, what looked like, it's original architecture. The ambiance was breathtaking. It was dark, yet classy. It was filled with people our age, people just trying to find their places in this crazy city.
We hopped back on the Metro and went back to my apartment after that.
I was in awe. I was so in love with the city I had found myself in--it was everything I anticipated. My friend and I promised to do this once a week; just go out and explore the city that we lived in. Just before I moved, he told me that those were his favorite times because he, who had grown up in this life, had really taken it for granted. It was his backyard. But he felt like he got to see the city through my eyes during our weekend adventures.
Do I miss it? Do I miss being in complete awe of the city lights and the people and the places?
Absolutely.
But after that first year, I too began to take it for granted.
The Hollywood events and lights turned from fascination to annoyance--it meant more traffic, more tourists, more street closures.
The bars went from amazement to frustration--they were constantly crowded and the drinks were overpriced.
While I realized I fully loved this city of fascination, excitement and dreams--I also realized it wasn't home.
So yes, Timehop, I appreciate your reminders of what my life used to be. It puts a smile on my face.
And to the girl sitting here typing this today? Thank you for realizing it wasn't home (nor would it ever be).
I feel the same happiness I did then.
Just now, it's seeing the Bay every day while driving to and from work.
It's coming home to my two beautiful Cockers who I rescued (though I fully believe they rescued me).
It's working my butt off for a job that is sometimes stressful, but other days kinda fun (and allows me to be independent).
It's being able to see my family more often and be a part of their lives.
The happiness is in my heart, in the box right next to memories of the crazy, adventurous time I spent in LA.
Thanks for the flashback, Timehop. It's fun looking back at the naive, wide-eyed girl I was 4 years ago and the woman I've become today.
