I sit in my freezing room in Arlington, Virginia, cold, upset, and passive aggressively cursing my roomates for not believing in central heating. As the last bit of warmth escapes my frail body, I sit, wondering if I will ever feel my toes again. It is in this vulnerable state that I realize I have a secret. I, Zenissa Roddy...had a positive thought about moving back to my hometown LA. Now this may seem strange, but anyone who knows me knows that in addition to spending several hours of my day working, journaling, and stressing, I take at least a full hour to talk shit about my hometown.
When I moved out of the city of (ark)angels, I literally threw my middle finger to the skyline as
my plane headed for the east coast. If you asked me, I was NEVER coming back. But then... I realized I wanted a career in entertainment, I didn't hate warmth as much as I thought, and I missed street tacos more than I missed my parents (sorry guys).
People in DC always ask me why I moved and why I cringe when someone says I am “such an LA girl”. I'm ready to speak my truth... on the good, the bad and the ugly of my city… and probably get roasted in the process. So hear ya girl out:
People are chill.
I feel like we move lightyears slower on a day to day basis. I mean even the beats in LA music are so slow and drawn out. So much so when we went from dancing to the chill ratchet beats of LA to the high paced booty shakin beats of southern music introduced to us in college we had to struggle to keep up with our out of town twerkin friends. Don’t get me wrong, I know chillness shouldn't be a negative, but it IS stressful. My emotional gradient is always on 100. When I’m excited, angry, or stressed you will ALL know. My voice is about 3 octaves more annoying than most, I am dramatic, I consistently overreact, and my first reaction to pretty much everything is a scream. Now, these LA shawties might also have an exaggerated emotional gradient, but you wouldn't know because they’ve perfected the art of being chill. These are the type of people who will casually tell you they got an abortion, as if they got food poisoning from too much Yogurtland. These shawties will roast you; they’ll call you everything short of God’s biggest mistake like they are just reading off of their grocery list. If you can feign this level of sociopathic emotional stability, you seem socially adept. I have yet to master this. And it’s stressful.
Paper bag privilege.
I'm going to keep this one simple. In LA rapper YG's notorious song “ I Beat the P*ssy Up”, he proudly proclaims “and I only eat the p*ssy cuz she lightskin”. Some may argue that ONLY ignorant individuals like YG think like this and that it isn't a representation of LA culture, but just go to an LA function and see which line these negroes scream the loudest. Then, look around at the faces of the women in the room.
Exactly.
Pseudo Celebs/ Entertainment Obsession.
One of my friends dated a boy in high school who may or may not have been in a famous Disney Channel movie from our youth. He may or may not have co-starred with a Jonas brother. And I may or may not have gone with them on their date, as a decoy for our parents, allowing them to make out in the back of the movies peacefully while I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and tried to ignore the undeniable sounds of teen lust. The thing is, everyone in LA knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody. I could have 40 trust funds with the dollars of high school acquaintances alone. We all know someone who is someone and yet people always think they have an in to the elite crowd. It's great that you got to go to Drake’s house for a party booboo but he wasn't even there. Glad you got invited to Chris Brown's table at the club sweetheart, but he not finna pay your overdue rent. To be fair a lot of this can be blamed on the LA transplants who get so hype to see a washed child star from 04’ that people think they have cool points for knowing somebody. But the LA old heads do it too. As much as I am excited to begin my career in entertainment, the idea of networking with various people who I have met in my childhood, who now think they on and suddenly dont know nobody, brings me more anxiety than the idea of retaking the GRE.
Which brings me to my next point...
Reintroduction at the function.
Okay, so this is my BIGGEST PET PEEVE about LA and it makes me want to pluck out every single one of my baby hairs out with dull tweezers. Best explained with an example: The last time I was in LA, I threw a slight lituation. A couple of my childhood friends came and brought they boys. These boys have been their friends since high school and I have probably informally hung around them at least 40 times since age 13. Maybe they don't know my name, maybe they don't know where I went to school, but they FORSURE know who the eff I ih. I go up to say hi, and before I can get a word out, they stick their hand out to introduce themselves. My girl is looking all confused and says “Wait yall have def met before”. Im like ya girl we have but you know how LA is. After an awkward laugh, they suddenly remember me. Like listen...I know that you know that I know that you know me. And it happens at least 14 times a day. Maybe it’s all the weed being smoked out there that messes with facial recognition skills but I’m getting tiyyyyyeed. I’ve begun calling people out every time it happens. You gone learn today.
aI still remember when I first moved to DC, and was recognized for the first time after only meeting someone briefly before. I almost went to reintroduce myself and they gave me a whole hug yall. I was shook. They were confused to why I was so shook. It was a moment.
Keeping up with the Joneses.
Sometimes, on a Sunday morning in LA, I just want to go through a McDonalds drive-thru and get a hashbrown. I fantasize about driving through the line in my pjs and hair bonnet, grabbing my food and returning home with a warm potato in my hands. This dream quickly turns to a nightmare when I imagine seeing someone I’ve met 15 times in the parking lot judging me and snap-chatting a picture of me on the low. You can never leave your house in LA looking a mess. It’s not a thing. You better have some concealer and a matching nike workout fit at the least. You can and will get caught slippin and it’s unacceptable. It's just not the culture... and plus you never know when you’ll need to get a flick for insta. And don’t even dare be over a size 4. You better max out that credit card on Orange Theory or risk being deemed as the fat friend of your friend group forever more.
I say these things in jest, but when I was a resident, I wasn't laughing. I found it impossible to find my voice and place in that city until I left. And even now as I consider going back, I’ve already altered my expectations of how I will make my hometown a home. I have to admit I have found it much easier to be a brown, size 6, expressive Afro-Latina woman on the east coast where individuality, blackness, and the quirky traits of humanity are a bit more appreciated. I have gained a confidence that I don't want to lose when the pressures of the LA fast life call my name. I don't want to have to reintroduce myself to a girl I went to elementary and middle school with just to avoid confrontation. I don't want to be asked if I like light skin boys with “good hair” (true story). I don't want to stop getting into bars, clubs, and parties for the free (Okay this one is irrelevant. I just am a broke bih and act accordingly). I mostly don't want to have to remove red and blue from my wardrobe- like honestly how did I dress before these colors were allowed?
However, despite it all, I will be moving home eventually, and I’m looking forward to the sunny days, scenic hikes for my insta pics, old friends, and working in the industry I’m actually passionate about. I'm very much looking forward to hearing YG on the radio, no matter how ignorant he is. And imma scream all the lyrics like a maniac because i'll never find my chill.
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