Sunday, January 27, 2013

Another Year, Another Anniversary

Two years ago today, I escaped being buried alive in a snowstorm and moved to LA. It was sunny and hot in Burbank when I landed, and as soon as I retrieved my rental car, I threw off my winter boots and coat, headed to Target, and bought a bikini.

Two years later, it's rainy and cold, but I'm still going to Target.

I don't think anyone remembers today's date but me. There was no celebration today. There was no ceremony. There was no commemoration.

Only brunch alone, shopping alone, dinner and a beer alone.  A big night in featuring two loads of wet, drying laundry hanging with me in my studio apartment where I reside alone, and a Dustbuster full of pine needles.

Sure, I've settled into some routines, some of which have changed over the last two years with my ever-changing employment status, but I do still feel new in town.

I still love LA. I would say we're still in the honeymoon phase, except I know that when I moved here, I did not marry LA, nor did LA marry me. We are not newlyweds. We are still just getting to know each other.

I might not be here forever, but I don't see myself leaving anytime soon. A friend recently asked me what it would take for me to move back to New York, and I responded flatly, "A marriage proposal from Ryan Gosling."

Though, I suppose, a marriage proposal from any number of people would also apply.

Do I have friends yet in LA? Not really. I'm trying, but I could probably try harder. I still feel very alone.

Do I have a boyfriend yet in LA? Not even close, but I keep trying. I've kissed a lot of frogs. Even the frogs aren't much interested in me.

Do I have a job yet in LA? I had one when I moved here, but it wasn't the right one. Panicked, I took another job and stayed there for a year, but it wasn't the right one either. Bankrupt, I took a job back in retail and have worked as many hours as I could get, bearing cuts and callouses on my hands, blisters on my feet, and bags under my eyes. I've been dressed to the nines but feeling less than a 10.

What have I done with my two years here, if not having settled in?

And what will the next two years bring? What will my time in LA mean?

I think it's impossible for me to know any of this now, while it's happening. But hopefully I'll figure it out, and be able to discuss it intelligently, with insight and wisdom and perspective, one day.

Related Post:
My God, What Have I Done?
Upon Starting a New Year
A Year in LA

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