I’m not sure if it’s because I was use to them or if they are just in fact ugly, but Evergreen trees just do not do it for me. If you grew up in the cold climate and woods of the Pacific Northwest they were all you would see at times… their scraggly branches and spiky points reminding you that you live in a barren green tundra where nothing can grow but themselves.
Ugh, no thank you.
Since moving to Los Angeles though, one of my favorite things has been the trees here. Big leafy (tree stars!!) Ficus trees lining the streets of Santa Monica, the Jacaranda’s showering their bright lavender petals over the sidewalks that never seem to wilt, and the quirky Palms that are as iconic to the boulevards as Lindsay Lohan being pulled over on one of them.
I do feel like Palm trees are a bit of an anomaly though. I’m pretty sure no one actually likes them for their appearance, but rather what they represent. Sand, sunshine, drinks with pinappley umbrella-ish garnishes; Palm trees are like the weird younger brother of the popular guy in high school who was always at the parties, but never really got invited. He’s just there due to proximity to the popular guy. And everyone is a little bit shifty feeling about him. Like he hits on you in a weird way, probably involving comparing your haircut to one of the characters in his video game, and repeatedly calling you by the wrong name… and you talk to him, in hopes that his cool brother will enter the conversation at some point, or that you’ll get to hang with the “fam.”
I mean I’ve never done that… I have a friend that might have…
[at SANTA MONICA OFFICE]