Life In La Jolla Part B.

La Jolla Sunset
2015


When I first started looking at apartments in San Diego in 2013  I was excited about the move from rainy Seattle to San Diego.   I looked at over 20 apartments and applied to like 10 of them.  All of the applications were turned down.

I felt hopeless.  No one wanted us.  No one wanted to rent to a family with terrible credit, two small dogs and a kid.  It did not matter than I had a copy of my husbands new salary as proof of income and that it was well above the national average.  Our credit sucked.

I was almost in tears when I realized I had been in San Diego for a week and a half and had still not found a place to live.  My kid was 3 states away with my parents, my dogs were at some random dog hotel in Seattle, my husband had already been gone a month working in downtown San Diego fullime while living out of a seedy hotel in Mira Mesa.   I was paying $1800 a month a rental in downtown Seattle.   I had already quit my full time job as an apparel designer for a company in Seattle.  It was up to me to find a place to live.

Finally, I found another ad on craigslist.  Yes, they took pets AND the rent was crazy high!  What the hell?  My budget was max $2000 a mont.  I could not pay that much, but it was worth a look and I figured I could bargain down the price.   I asked the manager if they would accept a lower price.   She called the owners, they said no, I said yes anyway.   I ended up paying hundreds more than what I had budgeted but I had ran out of options.  They said OK for the dogs, credit and kid.

It was La Jolla.  I had never wanted to live in La Jolla.  To me it was the neighborhood full of rich old white guys and their arm candy wives with fake lips and giant boobs.   I did not feel like I would fit in with my junky old VW Jetta and crazy kid/pugs.

See my blog post from back then:  Blog About Moving to La Jolla

Fast forward 20 months later, and here I am.  I fit in.  I still have a crazy kid, two nutty dogs, and work in fashion.  I fit in.  I don't drive a Maserati, Porsche, or whatever.  I don't have the money, lips or boobs like everyone else, but I fit in.   You fit in where you live.  That is how you fit in.  You make friends with the older gal who tells you about her plastic surgeries over lunch at the Valencia hotel, you make friends with the mom in the building and carpool with her kids, you make friends with younger people in the next beach town that come over and dance in your living room on a Saturday night to 80's music.   You buy 3 beach cruisers and ride down to the beach on the weekends and lay in the sand.  That is how you fit in.  You dust the dog hairs off your leather sofa and have friends over.  (I did get rid of the Jetta -ha! ha!)

You may not live in a mansion but you live in La Jolla.  Its a beautiful place.   What I have learned from living here is like what I learned from living in Thailand or anywhere else, you just start living and then you fit in.  And its beautiful.  Its the most beautiful place I have ever lived, (besides Thailand).

Marco the Pug
La Jolla, CA


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