“Is this the room I’ll spend my life forever? I wonder why in L.A. To live and die in L.A.” — Wang Chung
And you thought all they made was “Everybody Have Fun Tonight”.
I now live in Los Angeles, Encino to be precise. You may have noticed from my tweets & my Facebook postings that I freakin’ love it. Right now I’m in a reflective enough mood to talk about it.
I live with the dynamic and occasionally bizarre Tabin (link to her blog on the left). I am told by other Angelinos that I scored what is quite possibly the sweetest first L.A. living space in the history of humanity. Not only do I share this gigantic, beautiful condo with Teh Awesome, it is a space of laughter & magical life. And built-in laundry. We sing, we laugh, we sit on the patio looking at the lemon tree & breathing in the sweet jasmine. We make fancy coffee and burst into “Trololo” randomly. We talk about constitutional law, why boys are weird, analyze people’s behaviour to death, play each other music, bust out with dance moves at times, and sometimes kvetch. I am frequently in her room at 1 in the morning listening or bitching. My room is apparently constrictive (I blame the wiggy vibes of Baby Neil Cat, who has yet to emerge), so we do everything in the vast expanses outside of it.
Me personally, I love my room. I would love it more with shelves & less boxes, but I love it. It’s got sweet angles & hardwood floors & a gigantic bathroom that is a snap to clean. It’s full of cuddly little beings who seem to find my need for sleep an inconvenience to their cuddling needs, but meh, whateryagonnado? I play music, I plot, I talk to boys (ok, boy) on the phone, I enjoy.
My job is such a far cry from what I was doing before that I am kind of at a loss. I am not entirely sure how to interact with the other people at the Psychic Eye yet, but I’ve already met several nice people & suspect that a couple are my kinda people. Like, I would have them to my house for nonsense. I love my clientèle. I love that I get immediate feedback, usually quite positive (sometimes embarrassingly positive). I never got this in medicine. I got plenty of praise & thanks, but usually at the expense of my sanity. I am not going to lose my sanity or my patience ever at this job. The hardest thing I’ve had to do so far is a two hour read when I had to pee. That’s it. Reading is easy for me, talking to people in need is a pleasure for me, and my clients are funny, kind, sweet, strange, full of amazing ideas & plans, creative, powerful, romantic, friendly, pro-active, and vibrant.
My biggest problem so far is that I am cripplingly shy. Yes, I actually am in person. In a work environment, I am used to being handed problems, introduced to all new people separately because they usually will all need me at some point. This is a very different environment because we’re all busy & I don’t want to intrude on anyone’s “vibe”. In my experience, however, it’s best to let people think I’m aloof & get to know people very slowly over time. That seems to work in my favour, and the favour of my new friend, in the long run. Most of my very good, long term in-person friends thought I was an icy bitch before they got to know me. People who meet me online don’t have to go through that process with me. I am extremely bad at small talk because I am, as some of you know, sort of intense. I like to jump into the meat; fuck the salad. If other people like to pick at their salad first, I get really itchy. So I come off sort of cold to salad people, I guess. Keep picking, salad folk. You’ll find the juicy fillet mignon eventually. And then dessert.
Outside of work I am the social butterfly I haven’t been in ages. What helps that is the built-in friends I sort of pre-made online before coming down here. Some of the folks I’ve known here for over 15 years I haven’t even seen yet, but we are in the process of making plans. The Browncoat & Chuck folks have been nothing but gregarious, open, & generous. Scott & Kim helped move me in for no reason other than that I am a Firefly fan. Jessica got together with me for Indian food almost immediately & now we see each other at least once a week. Jessica also kindly drove my drunk arse to a Chuck party & then drove my even more, near-death drunk arse back to my house, keeping me from puking with a Bollywood Dance Party of epic proportions. I’m going to miss Jess when she is in Europe!
I’ve yet to go to a party here where someone doesn’t rub their junk and or arse on me for a period longer than is comfortable to the average frotteur. So far I’ve been ok with this. I figure it’s like cats. And nobody’s been gross about it.
I had the best birthday ever, because it started a day early with my sister having Indian champagne brunch & a very strange trip to San Diego, continued with coffee with Katy on my actual birthday (as I was working), and ended with drinks with people who are kind, comfortable, ridiculously generous, and fucking smart. I love it here. I love my friends.
Well, technically my three day birthday celebration ended so drunk, at a later event, that I could barely function & really couldn’t see. And I was forced to remember that my tendency to just say things…i.e. be completely devoid of political correctness…is not as appreciated everywhere as it is with my birthday drink folks. So no more being so open about wanting to steal Asian children I spose, at least in certain circles.
Things I Need to Remember:
1. Buy moisturizer with sun screen. I keep forgetting the sun is everywhere here. I never wear a jacket, or gloves, and my arms are utterly littered with sun allergy bumps. Stupid.
2. Get a swimsuit. When the lovely Jasmin visited & we met Jess at Santa Monica Pier, it dawned on me that I cannot wait to be a more aesthetically pleasing body type before I hit the beach. I love the beach. I feel totally relaxed at the beach. I need to be on the beach. I cannot wait a few more months for the beach. I may not have said this 48 pounds heavier, but I don’t care any more. I’m shrinking as it is; I’ll just shrink on the beach, too. I already have a floppy hat Jasmin & Jess talked me into.
3. Cowboy boots. It’s such bullshit that nobody walks in L.A. You have to walk in L.A., because you are parking twelve miles from wherever you are going. 4 inch stiletto boots are for people who hate themselves or can balance better when smoking in a parking lot, trying to sober up.
4. I am not on vacation, and need to stop forgetting to renew my medications.
5. Pay my parking ticket. Yes. Already. I feel like a real Angelino now.
6. Hot men frequently cease to be hot the second they open their mouths. There are lots more hot men here than there are probably anywhere else in the world, most of whom disappoint me the moment they ask to take my order.
7. Everywhere takes twice as long to get there than Google Maps says, maybe three times in rush hour.
Things I Do Here That I Didn’t Do In Reno:
1. Go out.
2. Blow kisses to people who let me in traffic.
4. Be happy.
5. Feel confident.
6. Laugh constantly.
7. Have someone to talk about politics with who knows a lot more than I do, so I learn all the time.
8. Don’t get headaches as much.
9. Work out regularly, really pushing myself.
10. Eat sensibly (when I eat).
Y’know, I’m sorry this isn’t terribly funny but I seriously am enjoying myself down here. If I were anybody else, I might be jealous of me. Here’s the thing: I knew, even in the depths of my worst days as a kid, as a teen, as an adult (and I have survived some shit, my friends), I always knew things would get amazing, later on, some day. Some day is here. I’m exactly where God wants me. This was His plan, all long, and I surrendered, finally, to it. He’s rewarded me with good people and good times. He does this for everyone who succumbs to His Will.
Apparently, attempting to navigate the briar-ridden path my father set forth for me really was quite stupid. I knew this at 17, but I was so out of touch with what God wanted that I tried to please the Unpleasable. God is relatively easy to make happy because He wants you to be happy doing what you were put here to do. People’s expectations of you, however, are based on their own selfish needs and tend to change on a whim. God always knows what you’re best at; listen to Him.
What was that, God? Move to L.A., hand the reigns over to You, just enjoy the ride? Roger that!