Thursday, January 8, 2009


I grew up in Scotland where there were three main topics of conversation: 1) "mmmmrrrrwwwssssacccchhhh"( something to do with soccer). 2)' What are you drinking?" and 3) "That's a nasty cold." My hometown of Glasgow has an ungenerous climate and the houses tend towards the damp. Everyone always has a cold. I moved to New York where the main topics of conversation were 1) "Courtney Love's insane". 2) "Stop saying mean stuff about Courtney" (I worked at a music magazine) and 3) "I'm not coming in tomorrow, I've got a cold."

Now I live in L.A where there are no topics of conversation because I rarely leave the house. But, as all West Coast apologists are quick to point out, we put up with a lot to live here because of the lovely climate. And it is lovely. As I write, it's a very pleasant 61. And I have a cold! An eye-streaming, temple-pounding, nose-dripping cold. The kind of cold I used to get every other day in Glasgow and New York. The kind of cold that was so commonplace I never felt the need to whine about it. But now it's such a freak occurrence that it;'s turned me into a moaning, Kleenex-toting martyr. If the one thing living in L.A had going for it can't be relied on anymore, what's the point of being here?

No comments: