I am always delighted to report that I am from Mill Valley, California. While I could kind of hem and haw about being from San Francisco, really, deep down, I'm from Mill Valley. According to me, when my folks moved to Mill Valley in 1976, it was a sleepy college town without a college. My mother drove a Volvo with a KQED sticker and wore a lot of L.L. Bean.
These days, Mill Valley is the kind of a town for trophy wives who went to Princeton. They're not complete idiots. Those people live in Tiburon, of course. But the new Mill Valley people can be a little, how do you say, obnoxiously self-congratulatory.
Not me, of course. I'm incredibly low-key about practically inventing the best little town in the world.
Which is why I'm eating up a new blog called Mill Valley Life, and then kind of spitting it out. Said blog appears to be written by an anonymous, slightly creepy person who gets weekly blow-outs and hires someone to walk their dog. Based upon their writing, I'm guessing this person moved to Mill Valley after meeting their future husband in a deposition, having a child they named Parker and reading about this little hamlet in the New York Times.
I could be wrong.
To their credit, Mill Valley Life features disaster planning that doesn't involve San Pelligrino.
Categories on Mill Valley Life include:
Poor kids, rich kids (No, I am not kidding.)
A teensy bit entitled (A teensy bit accurate)
Robin, Bonnie, Carlos, Tyler and Sammy (Celebrity sightings!)
I think my home town kind of jumped the shark now that TyFlo has taken over everything. And God Bless him, I do love everything about that guy except how rad he finds himself. I'm not 100% on this Mill Valley Life blog, yet. Really only because I feel like whoever is writing this rolled into town 15 minutes ago, has never voted in a city-wide election, doesn't subscribe to the IJ much less the Chronicle and shops at Whole Foods instead of the Mill Valley Market which, right there...I mean, come ON. They might as well just have a 'New money, old money' category...