Ten Years in Los Angeles

Five Rules for Adapting to LA as a New Yorker

Ten years. That’s how long I’ve lived in Los Angeles. Around the same amount of time as I spent in Brooklyn. And while I slipped into NYC like a fresh pair of Cheap Mondays and a distressed, black neckerchief, LA took longer. A decade in, I still miss a BEC from my local bodega and the pace of walking through a crowd with purpose, but I’ve truly embraced the unique offerings of my “new” hometown. Like a secret tennis court, or a hidden taco truck in an industrial park, it’s a city that doesn’t reveal itself all at once, it takes time. It makes you earn it, and after a decade, I’ve found my rhythm and truly love living here. The sun doesn’t just shine here—it softens you.

So here are my Five Rules for Adapting to LA as a New Yorker.

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A message from the Independent Hospitality Coalition for those being affected by ICE raids in Los Angeles:

Attention restaurant owners, be prepared. Thank you to everyone who has shared information that has allowed us to plan.

As if restaurant owners and hospitality workers did not have enough to worry about. Our kitchens are what they are because of are immigrant community. ICE is plucking people from our community in the name of law and order, we know the truth.

History will remember this moment.

Un mensaje de la Independent Hospitality Coalition para quienes están siendo afectados por las redadas de ICE en Los Ángeles:

Atención dueños de restaurantes: prepárense. Gracias a todos los que han compartido información que nos ha permitido organizarnos.

Como si los dueños de restaurantes y trabajadores de hospitalidad no tuvieran ya suficientes preocupaciones. Nuestras cocinas son lo que son gracias a nuestra comunidad inmigrante. ICE está arrancando a personas de nuestra comunidad en nombre de la ley y el orden —pero nosotros conocemos la verdad.

La historia recordará este momento.

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Rule One: Get Outside (Like, Really Outside)

I know, I know. “Get outside” sounds obvious. But hear me out. When I first moved here, I kept my New York habits. Squash. Gyms. Indoors. It wasn’t until the pandemic that I realized the true cheat code of LA: the outdoors. My rule is simple: kick down the door if it can be done in the open. Now I play tennis under pillow white clouds. I hike the mountains beneath a blazing sun. I take the dogs on walks on Pasadena's tree-lined streets. This city is built to be experienced, staring at open skies and palm trees. The weather here isn’t just delicious, it’s a way of life.

Rule Two: Learn The Local Language

I still remember my first work trip out here. Everyone was “so excited” to , because “We’d love to find something to do with you!” I flew back to New York thinking I had just locked in a dozen projects, and then I didn’t hear from anyone. That’s when I learned the golden rule of LA communication: there’s the thing being said, and then there’s what’s being communicated. It’s not dishonesty, it’s a different dialect. LA operates on a separate social frequency. Everyone is nice. Everyone is interested. But that doesn’t mean anything’s going to happen. It took me years to separate the smiles from the substance, that LA is fluent in pleasant ambiguities, where trust is earned over time and tacos.

Rule Three: Geography Is Everything

In New York, I’d make plans anywhere. Dinner in Chinatown, drinks in the East Village, finally a late-night hang in Williamsburg. Easy. When I first moved to LA, I planned meet-ups like I was still in Manhattan—lunch in Venice, drinks in Los Feliz, dinner in Highland Park. People humored me at first. But then came the sighs, the “let’s reschedule” texts, the “anywhere closer” questions, and then eventually “let’s find another night”. I used to think distance was just a number. Now I know it’s a currency, one that needs to be spent very carefully. I’ve learned that if I want to see people or have an enjoyable Saturday out, I need to respect the city’s layout. Anything less is a disservice to everyone involved and a sure-fire way to spend the whole day stuck in the car.

Rule Four: A Plan Is Just an Idea

Look, LA is not a city of commitments. It’s a city of plans. They get floated like trial balloons. “Let’s get coffee” means maybe we’ll check back in with each other in a few weeks. A dinner party invite might turn into a call during a daytime drive. I used to take it personally, but now I roll with it. If we haven’t confirmed the time, place, and parking situation, I assume it’s not happening. I don’t take it personally, and I’ve been equally as guilty about breaking plans I made. It’s not flakiness—it’s flexibility. Things shift, sitters get stuck at work, baseball tickets appear, and traffic ruins dreams. You learn to roll with it. The city isn’t always about locking it in; it’s about floating the intention until it all lines up.

Rule Five: Find Your LA

Here’s the big one. Los Angeles is not one thing. It’s a hundred micro-cities & scenes stitched together by overlapping neighborhoods & communities. If you’re constantly chasing what you think LA should be—sunsets in Malibu, rooftop yoga in Silver Lake, secret wine bars in Koreatown—you’ll miss the version that is waiting for you. I thought I had to be everywhere, I thought I had to be doing everything, but that reality was exhausting. For me, it is a backyard big enough to host friends while cooking pizza, being married to the love of my life, Dodgers games with my family, a weekly doubles game of tennis, and a handful of restaurants where the staff knows my name. Once I stopped trying to conquer the city and let it come to me, that is when things clicked. That is when LA stopped being frustrating and started feeling like home.

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