i hate you, coldwater canyon

Today, I took a new route from the 134 to my Beverly Hills office. My colleagues recommended trying a cut through Studio City and Coldwater Canyon. So, after some freeway ramp misses at the 134/101/170 split, I found myself in my mother’s old neighborhood. And I was so distracted thinking of how amused Mom would be that I was going through her teenage stomping grounds that I didn’t notice in time that I was heading directly into one hell of a clusterfuck/bottleneck on Coldwater Canyon.

Well, shit.

I could have backtracked to Laurel Canyon, but there was no guarantee that would be better, or faster, so I stuck it out. And it took me an HOUR to get the five miles (probably less) through the twists and turns and hills of the Santa Monica Mountains to the point where Coldwater turns into Beverly Drive. I almost cried, because I’d sacrificed sleep to get to work by 8:20, and I’d left Pasasdena early enough to do it, and I was STILL late.

And any sleep sacrifice this morning was difficult enough. I was only out until 1:30am last night at Hex Hollywood, but that was far too late for a school night. I’ll write the event up later, because it involved some fabulously catty costume/fashion commentary between me, my friend Alexandra, and the boyfriend’s friend Paula, not to mention quite a few Jim Rose Circus style acts. Right now, I’m too grumpy and tired to be hilarious though, so that’s better left to later.

Besides, I have to go email Mommy and tell her that I was in her part of L.A. this morning – and how does anyone manage to drive out of it without going mad?

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