Month: July 2016
Yesterday I took a trip to Ikea where I managed to buy everything but what I actually went in for: a rug for my bedroom. The cart got filled with duvet cover, frames, lamp, kitchen gadgets and a small table for my patio. But no rug. At lunchtime, I was still meandering around kitchens and couches and, for a brief moment, I considered sitting at Ikea’s cafe, until I remembered the desiccated lox I had last time and those Swedish meatballs that had seen better days. So I ploughed on, got on the freeway and crossed the entire city – enough time to plot what to have for lunch as soon as I got home.
“My family and I moved in with my dad because he couldn’t live alone anymore, and he owns a big house” the woman telling me this is barely 40, married with two children. “It sounded like a great deal but my dad still hits the same buttons he did when I was 17 and living together can sometimes be difficult.”
There was a time, not so long ago, that Malibu, despite its worldwide reputation, was nothing more than a sleepy residential coastal town: the beaches were beautiful, there were some celebrities out and about but, by and large, the place belonged to longtime residents and it was far from glitzy. The lack of fancy hotels kept it low-key: you went to Malibu to surf or enjoy a picnic at the beach.