It all happened very fast. It took less than two weeks total, and here I am. Back in Los Angeles. Back at work. It was a difficult decision, fraught with emotional pitfalls and uncharted territory. In the end, practicality won out. Let's face it. Despite my obvious brilliance, I don't get many job offers, so I couldn't really turn this one down. Three to six months. Which doesn't sound too long, really.
Plus, it will be interesting to experience the other side of the story now. I left Los Angeles, moved to Asheville. Now what? Have I changed? Writers have always written about their locations and attributed great power to sense of place and environment. Did I take a bit of Los Angeles to Asheville? And now, will I bring a bit of Asheville here?
In a stroke of universal synchronicity, it was 15 years ago this month...this week, actually...that I first moved to L.A. Miraculously, I only aged 5 years in all that time, but my circumstances have changed considerably since I showed up here, so happy to have finally made it to the promised land. So all the elements are in place for a surprisingly layered homecoming. Yet...
If home is indeed where the heart is, then I am, in all regards, homeless, because Michael's not here. We've actually never been separated for more than a few days at a time. That's the hardest part. And whenever I allow myself to think about it for very long, this whole thing just seems crazy. So I can't let myself think about it. There's work to keep me occupied and lots to do in Los Angeles. And friends to see. And comic cons to plan and attend. And blog posts to write. Time will undoubtedly fly by, as it always does.
Now, to celebrate my return, I'm going to Leonor's Vegetarian Restaurant in the ShOaks for my favorite fake pizza. It's completely vegan, and I have no idea what's in it or how they do it, but it's delicious!
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A Whole Year in Asheville
Today marks our one-year anniversary in Asheville. When we left Los Angeles last year, friends assured us that a year would fly by, and it has. We had a long list of trips, adventures and goals on our agenda when we started, and we've done a pretty good job of getting through them. Going in, I thought we'd do everything we wanted to do within the first couple of months, then be bored for the rest of the year. What I didn't expect was how completely the people here would accept us and integrate us into their lives.
I've learned a lot about myself over the past year, some good and some bad. I've always been an outsider and an observer. Part of that comes from being a writer and part of it is a protection device. Michael is the kind of person who jumps into any situation, eyes wide open, arms outstretched. I tend to hang back, watch for a while, figure out who the players are, what dangers are in store, then slowly ease into the situation. This fundamental difference has always been there, but didn't become so obvious and so, well, problematic, until every situation we were in was brand new.
I have made an effort over the past year to be less reserved and more open in new situations. But I know I'll never be the sort of person who just vomits myself all over new people, and I've come to forgive myself for that and own it. If it takes you a year to get to know me, that's fine with me. If you give up an hour or so into it, that's fine, too. I understand.
The people we have met here, those who have befriended us, have been incredible. While I always view new people with suspicion, the people of Asheville embraced us right away and welcomed us into their homes, their families and their lives. While our novelty as the new guys in town has worn off, their friendship has remained, and I am humbled by that and grateful. It makes me wonder how I would even begin to do the same for someone new to Los Angeles. We would get new neighbors from time to time back in L.A., and I realize now that the most I ever did was nod to them on my way to and from work.
When we were back in L.A. recently, a friend stood us up for dinner and wasn't answering his phone. We sat in the restaurant, trying to figure out what to do. A year ago, I'm sure I would have just shrugged and ordered without him. After months in Asheville, though, where neighbors check on each other and bring over cake, I decided we needed to go to his house and check on him, to make sure he wasn't hurt. It was an unexpected practical application of what I've learned here, in the land where hearts are on sleeves most of the time.
(But just a word about the cake. The first time a neighbor brought over baked goods, we couldn't bring ourselves to eat it, convinced a stranger bringing us something must have some sinister intention. "Clearly, she wants to poison us, so some nice heterosexual family will move in when we're gone." We got over that quickly, though, because, you know, it's cake.)
One thing I didn't learn here, because I knew it all along, is that I'm not the outdoorsy type. The scenery here is gorgeous, and I love looking at it...from a distance or from the car. I don't want to be in the scenery. I don't want to camp or hike or splash in waterfalls or swimmin' holes. A lot of people move to Asheville to do all that stuff. I did not. I've given all these things a try since being here, and I didn't experience any sort of epiphany, except the confirmation that, no, I'm not the outdoorsy type. I know it's like moving to L.A. and proclaiming you don't like sunshine. But that's the way it is. Plus, my misery makes everyone else miserable, and that's no fun. The big drawback to my refusal to be in the great outdoors is that there's no one to look out for Michael and to tell him not to jump off cliffs or pick up rattlesnakes. So, he's on his own. I will make sure his insurance card is tacked to his shirt before he goes out, though.
Right now, the immediate future is clear. We're staying in Asheville a while longer. The non-immediate future is less clear. A year ago, that would have bothered me more than it does now. Whenever people ask me why we moved, I always say we wanted to have an adventure. How many people get to just take off and try something so completely different and new? It sounds grand. But what do you do after the adventure? Go back home? Go somewhere else? Stay where you are? What happens next? I guess that's the next adventure.
I've learned a lot about myself over the past year, some good and some bad. I've always been an outsider and an observer. Part of that comes from being a writer and part of it is a protection device. Michael is the kind of person who jumps into any situation, eyes wide open, arms outstretched. I tend to hang back, watch for a while, figure out who the players are, what dangers are in store, then slowly ease into the situation. This fundamental difference has always been there, but didn't become so obvious and so, well, problematic, until every situation we were in was brand new.
I have made an effort over the past year to be less reserved and more open in new situations. But I know I'll never be the sort of person who just vomits myself all over new people, and I've come to forgive myself for that and own it. If it takes you a year to get to know me, that's fine with me. If you give up an hour or so into it, that's fine, too. I understand.
The people we have met here, those who have befriended us, have been incredible. While I always view new people with suspicion, the people of Asheville embraced us right away and welcomed us into their homes, their families and their lives. While our novelty as the new guys in town has worn off, their friendship has remained, and I am humbled by that and grateful. It makes me wonder how I would even begin to do the same for someone new to Los Angeles. We would get new neighbors from time to time back in L.A., and I realize now that the most I ever did was nod to them on my way to and from work.
When we were back in L.A. recently, a friend stood us up for dinner and wasn't answering his phone. We sat in the restaurant, trying to figure out what to do. A year ago, I'm sure I would have just shrugged and ordered without him. After months in Asheville, though, where neighbors check on each other and bring over cake, I decided we needed to go to his house and check on him, to make sure he wasn't hurt. It was an unexpected practical application of what I've learned here, in the land where hearts are on sleeves most of the time.
(But just a word about the cake. The first time a neighbor brought over baked goods, we couldn't bring ourselves to eat it, convinced a stranger bringing us something must have some sinister intention. "Clearly, she wants to poison us, so some nice heterosexual family will move in when we're gone." We got over that quickly, though, because, you know, it's cake.)
One thing I didn't learn here, because I knew it all along, is that I'm not the outdoorsy type. The scenery here is gorgeous, and I love looking at it...from a distance or from the car. I don't want to be in the scenery. I don't want to camp or hike or splash in waterfalls or swimmin' holes. A lot of people move to Asheville to do all that stuff. I did not. I've given all these things a try since being here, and I didn't experience any sort of epiphany, except the confirmation that, no, I'm not the outdoorsy type. I know it's like moving to L.A. and proclaiming you don't like sunshine. But that's the way it is. Plus, my misery makes everyone else miserable, and that's no fun. The big drawback to my refusal to be in the great outdoors is that there's no one to look out for Michael and to tell him not to jump off cliffs or pick up rattlesnakes. So, he's on his own. I will make sure his insurance card is tacked to his shirt before he goes out, though.
Right now, the immediate future is clear. We're staying in Asheville a while longer. The non-immediate future is less clear. A year ago, that would have bothered me more than it does now. Whenever people ask me why we moved, I always say we wanted to have an adventure. How many people get to just take off and try something so completely different and new? It sounds grand. But what do you do after the adventure? Go back home? Go somewhere else? Stay where you are? What happens next? I guess that's the next adventure.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Somewhere That's Green
We returned from our vacation in Mexico and our trip to Los Angeles to find Asheville transformed. When we left, there were but a few signs of spring. When we awoke the morning after our arrival, we found a green canopy covering the yard and mountains that can only be described as lush. (Which, coincidentally, is how I'm often described, as well.)
Somehow I don't remember it being this green last year. We had just gotten used to seeing the other houses across the lake, and now they're completely obscured by the trees again. All the rain we've been getting has helped, I'm sure. Though Henry doesn't like it. The low rumbling sounds of thunder just send him over the edge. Poor Michael was up with him most of last night, because the thunder makes Henry so anxious and nutty, which then makes us anxious and nutty.
They're both asleep in the living room now, no rainclouds in sight. Though, I'm sure that will change by this afternoon.
I'm not sure if it's spring fever or post-vacation malaise, but I'm finding it hard to get motivated and do everything I need to do. I'm not only walking by the empty suitcases every day, saying, "Eh, I'll put 'em away later," but I seem to be walking by everything else, as well. I'm sure I'll snap out of it sooner or later.
This afternoon is the first Downtown After Five of the season, which is a monthly street festival during the summer. Maybe some music, drinks and social activity will snap me out of my doldrums.
I have a zillion photos to upload, so I'll try to get to work on that this weekend. If not, you'll at least know that I'm very earnestly thinking about doing it.
Somehow I don't remember it being this green last year. We had just gotten used to seeing the other houses across the lake, and now they're completely obscured by the trees again. All the rain we've been getting has helped, I'm sure. Though Henry doesn't like it. The low rumbling sounds of thunder just send him over the edge. Poor Michael was up with him most of last night, because the thunder makes Henry so anxious and nutty, which then makes us anxious and nutty.
They're both asleep in the living room now, no rainclouds in sight. Though, I'm sure that will change by this afternoon.
I'm not sure if it's spring fever or post-vacation malaise, but I'm finding it hard to get motivated and do everything I need to do. I'm not only walking by the empty suitcases every day, saying, "Eh, I'll put 'em away later," but I seem to be walking by everything else, as well. I'm sure I'll snap out of it sooner or later.
This afternoon is the first Downtown After Five of the season, which is a monthly street festival during the summer. Maybe some music, drinks and social activity will snap me out of my doldrums.
I have a zillion photos to upload, so I'll try to get to work on that this weekend. If not, you'll at least know that I'm very earnestly thinking about doing it.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Pearls Before Swine Flu
Greetings from Mexico! Really. As is often the case, we booked our vacation to coincide with a disaster. We're in Cancun for a week, before heading to Los Angeles for a couple of days. It is beautiful here and (fingers crossed) we're all safe and healthy.
What is particularly striking about this outbreak is that there are just no reliable numbers yet. The media would have us believe it's the end of the world, but the World Health Organization has really only attributed 20-some deaths to the swine flu virus here in Mexico. And none in the US.
So, we're going to continue to enjoy the sand and the sun, until we're told to evacuate or that we've been quarantined.
However, since it's a resort full of gay guys, I'm looking forward to the quarantine drink specials and theme parties.
Hasta luego!
What is particularly striking about this outbreak is that there are just no reliable numbers yet. The media would have us believe it's the end of the world, but the World Health Organization has really only attributed 20-some deaths to the swine flu virus here in Mexico. And none in the US.
So, we're going to continue to enjoy the sand and the sun, until we're told to evacuate or that we've been quarantined.
However, since it's a resort full of gay guys, I'm looking forward to the quarantine drink specials and theme parties.
Hasta luego!
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Long, Strange Week
Last weekend was sunny and 72, and I got a sunburn. Not while hiking or working in the yard, but while having brunch. We went to Sunny Point and decided to sit outside. I wasn't expecting to sit outside or I would have slathered on my usual dose of SPF 50. Despite my Native American heritage, I am a white, white person, and burn like flash paper in the sun. So that was Saturday.
On Monday, it was snowing.
Locals kept telling us to expect one more freak snowstorm to kill or stunt the Spring growth. I thought they were crazy. Well, I was wrong. It snowed for two days, then melted. By Wednesday, the rains began. In the midst of all this, I was also trying to do the aforementioned yard work. We still have leaves to rake and bag, and somehow actual limbs have fallen out of the trees over the winter and are scattered all over the yard. In between the snowing and raining, I attempted to cut up some of the limbs with a saw I pulled out of the garage. That's when our elderly female neighbor informed me I was using a drywall saw on the trees. I didn't even know we owned a drywall saw. We've never cut any drywall.
Luckily, it started raining again, so I was spared the embarrassment of further sawing. Cut to this past weekend, which was sunny and 72. Brunch rolled around again, and I slathered on the SPF 50 to protect my pink and now-peeling face.
We sat inside.
Figures.
On Monday, it was snowing.
Locals kept telling us to expect one more freak snowstorm to kill or stunt the Spring growth. I thought they were crazy. Well, I was wrong. It snowed for two days, then melted. By Wednesday, the rains began. In the midst of all this, I was also trying to do the aforementioned yard work. We still have leaves to rake and bag, and somehow actual limbs have fallen out of the trees over the winter and are scattered all over the yard. In between the snowing and raining, I attempted to cut up some of the limbs with a saw I pulled out of the garage. That's when our elderly female neighbor informed me I was using a drywall saw on the trees. I didn't even know we owned a drywall saw. We've never cut any drywall.
Luckily, it started raining again, so I was spared the embarrassment of further sawing. Cut to this past weekend, which was sunny and 72. Brunch rolled around again, and I slathered on the SPF 50 to protect my pink and now-peeling face.
We sat inside.
Figures.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Phoneless in Los Angeles
The week in LA went by in a flash. My cell phone died on day two of the trip, which left me feeling strangely lost and isolated. No one could call me; I couldn't call anyone. All I could do was text. The friend I was staying with had no land line, and my attempts to find a payphone I would be willing to touch without gloves proved impossible. So I was in Los Angeles, but cut off from the rest of the world.
Besides the communication problems, I had a blast. I was worried that I would experience some sort of culture shock coming back to the big city, but I slipped right back into the groove of things. I didn't even mind the traffic, which was actually a little light, thanks to a combination of spring break and soaring unemployment.
I spent a day at the Getty, which was beautiful as always. Then spent most of the rest of the trip shopping and going to dinners. I finally got to go to the Americana in Glendale, but was a little disappointed. It's a beautiful development, but I found the store selection lacking. I did get to spend a day at my beloved Fashion Square and happened upon a shoe sale at Macy's. I'm wearing my new shoes right now, and they are fabulous. I didn't get to catch a movie at Arclight, and I never made it to Chin Chin for their Noodles in Peanut Sauce. I did have dinner at Beso, which is a gorgeous restaurant owned by Todd English and Eva Langoria. Lovely food, lovely atmosphere. It's amazing how much Hollywood has transformed, thanks to a string of trendy restaurants, yogurt shops and high-end retail stores.
So, the big question is how do I feel now? I love Los Angeles. The weather was perfect and I had a great time. I'm also aware that I was in vacation mode. It's not like I was going to work, picking up dry cleaning and shopping for groceries. I was relaxing and enjoying the best parts of the city, without the pressure of the daily grind. I do miss it, though. It's hard to leave. But I miss Michael and Henry and Asheville, too. What happens next is not a question that will be resolved easily or soon. But it was good to be back in L.A. It felt like home. I felt like I still belonged here.
Besides the communication problems, I had a blast. I was worried that I would experience some sort of culture shock coming back to the big city, but I slipped right back into the groove of things. I didn't even mind the traffic, which was actually a little light, thanks to a combination of spring break and soaring unemployment.
I spent a day at the Getty, which was beautiful as always. Then spent most of the rest of the trip shopping and going to dinners. I finally got to go to the Americana in Glendale, but was a little disappointed. It's a beautiful development, but I found the store selection lacking. I did get to spend a day at my beloved Fashion Square and happened upon a shoe sale at Macy's. I'm wearing my new shoes right now, and they are fabulous. I didn't get to catch a movie at Arclight, and I never made it to Chin Chin for their Noodles in Peanut Sauce. I did have dinner at Beso, which is a gorgeous restaurant owned by Todd English and Eva Langoria. Lovely food, lovely atmosphere. It's amazing how much Hollywood has transformed, thanks to a string of trendy restaurants, yogurt shops and high-end retail stores.
So, the big question is how do I feel now? I love Los Angeles. The weather was perfect and I had a great time. I'm also aware that I was in vacation mode. It's not like I was going to work, picking up dry cleaning and shopping for groceries. I was relaxing and enjoying the best parts of the city, without the pressure of the daily grind. I do miss it, though. It's hard to leave. But I miss Michael and Henry and Asheville, too. What happens next is not a question that will be resolved easily or soon. But it was good to be back in L.A. It felt like home. I felt like I still belonged here.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Back to La La Land
Couple of quick news items. First, I missed the biggest snowfall of the year in Asheville, because I was in San Francisco for a convention. My flight back even got delayed a day because of ice in Atlanta. Which was nice because I got an extra day in SF, but then by the time I got back, all the snow had melted.
A week after the snowstorm, it was Spring. The temps were in the 80s, I was wearing shorts and putting away all my sweaters. Now it's cold and rainy. So I'm going to Los Angeles.
I was originally supposed to be going to a convention, but it got canceled, so now I'm just going for fun. This is momentous because it will be my first visit back since moving to Asheville. Michael's been back twice now, but this will be my first return, and I'm going alone. I am excited and nervous and anxious. Will LA have passed me by? Have I changed too much to fit in now? Are all the after-school specials right? Can you never go home again?
I'm looking forward to seeing friends and catching up on everything I've missed. But I'm also looking forward to re-immersing myself in my old routines and hang-outs, to see if it makes me long to return to Asheville or unpack and stay in LA. I want to stroll through Fashion Square (the most underrated mall in Los Angeles), have terrible service at Jerry's Famous Deli and catch a movie at Arclight (where latecomers don't ask your whole party to move over so they can sit wherever they want). I want to walk down Ventura, humming "Valley Girl" and see if my favorite toy stores have closed because I moved away. I want to go shoe shopping. In fact, I may get off the plane and go straight to the Kenneth Cole store and stay there for a week. And I want to horde boxes of See's Candies like a Russian grabbing Levis.
It'll be a fun week.
A week after the snowstorm, it was Spring. The temps were in the 80s, I was wearing shorts and putting away all my sweaters. Now it's cold and rainy. So I'm going to Los Angeles.
I was originally supposed to be going to a convention, but it got canceled, so now I'm just going for fun. This is momentous because it will be my first visit back since moving to Asheville. Michael's been back twice now, but this will be my first return, and I'm going alone. I am excited and nervous and anxious. Will LA have passed me by? Have I changed too much to fit in now? Are all the after-school specials right? Can you never go home again?
I'm looking forward to seeing friends and catching up on everything I've missed. But I'm also looking forward to re-immersing myself in my old routines and hang-outs, to see if it makes me long to return to Asheville or unpack and stay in LA. I want to stroll through Fashion Square (the most underrated mall in Los Angeles), have terrible service at Jerry's Famous Deli and catch a movie at Arclight (where latecomers don't ask your whole party to move over so they can sit wherever they want). I want to walk down Ventura, humming "Valley Girl" and see if my favorite toy stores have closed because I moved away. I want to go shoe shopping. In fact, I may get off the plane and go straight to the Kenneth Cole store and stay there for a week. And I want to horde boxes of See's Candies like a Russian grabbing Levis.
It'll be a fun week.
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