When New York and Rolling Stone writer Vanessa Grigoriadis got a boyfriend and went west a few years back, everyone despaired. People were really downright sniffy about it, as they should be. But everyone figured, well, she always did do a lot of yoga, and without that veneer of irony. Maybe some time on the non-smoking coast would do her good! And for the most part it seems like California treated her well. She didn't have that breakdown that looms before us all in the late early 30s. Yet. But you know what happened? Her hot boyfriend got fat. And he didn't care. And then last year she married him anyway. Of course it took the homo publicist in her boyfriend's office to set things right: "'Your boyfriend is getting fat,' he hissed." But any New York homosexual would have headed the fatness off at the pass months or even years earlier. Even the gays are lazily hissy in L.A.