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I Am Taking the Subway for the First Time

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I have to confess something: despite living in the NoHo Arts District, despite working on Sunset and Vine, despite writing for one of the most public-transit-friendly blogs in the city, I have remained hesitant about taking the Metro to work every morning. I mean, it makes sense: the station in NoHo is about a 10-15 minute walk away, it's a quick 10 minute trip to the Hollywood and Vine station, which drops me conveniently close to work -- and I can even stop at Molly's every morning for breakfast if I want! So great!

So why has it taken me so long to get on the train?

I love my car.

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I know, I know, I know! I'm evil, callous, headed straight for hell, the special kind of hell reserved for puppy-kickers and people who tell dead baby jokes. I'm that oh-so-typical Angeleno who's too busy being blonde and insular and I have zero intellectual life and most of my limbs have been replaced with plastic and I live in a bubble where we don't let in Mexicans except to water our vast superfluous lawns and people from New York spontaneously vomit bagels and pizza slices when they see me!! I go to restaurants only for the celebrities! I know, I know, you don't have to tell me! You hate me and everything I stand for!

Actually, none of that is true (except for the blonde part), but I do admit to being the typical Angeleno when it comes to my car. My car is a part of me: I've owned two versions of the same Honda Civic since high school, and my little silver buddy has always been there to take me where I want to go. Nothing fills me with more joy than to gun the engine and go flying down some wide swathe of Sunset Boulevard, or wind through the canyons at dusk, or head up the 101 for a quick weekend getaway.

But nothing -- and I mean nothing -- fills me with more rage than driving in traffic. It's gotten so bad that I arrive home from my twenty-minute commute shaking with rage and prickly with frustration. I'm cursing more. I haven't resorted to the middle finger, but I sure love to lay on that horn. It's getting bad.

Thus: the Metro.