When people back east are sitting at home on New Years Day, huddled around the fire and watching the Rose Parade, they think to themselves, Those people are wearing shorts. In January! I gotta move there.
I know, because that’s what I thought.
But what people don’t realize is, Los Angeles was built on a desert. The only reason we can sustain the country’s second largest city is because William Mulholland stole water from the central valley.
As a desert, the temperature fluctuates wildly over the course of the day, particularly this time of year. Yesterday, it was 45 degrees when I climbed out of bed. When I started my car for a run after lunch, the thermometer read 85.
Personally, since I am from the frozen north, I don’t mind the morning cold. I’m more worried about sitting in a mobile greenhouse when I’m not so mobile on the 405, so I just wear shorts all day.
Others (like my Hawaiian friend in the camera department) will wear half a dozen layers, peeling them off one by one as the day goes by. In some cases *cough*make-up girls*cough*, this amounts to a slow-motion strip tease. (Not that I would notice. Hi, honey!)
