I have taken exactly one nap since this post and would like three more, please.
I can finally share with you that Jim has a brand new job in the wonderful world of Podcasting. He’ll be working in sales operations and making sure what is sold is actually delivered. This means, he is the connection between the advertiser/client and podcast host. He’ll be writing copy, sending scripts, managing employees, and keeping everyone happy. And because it’s all brand spanking new, he gets to define the systems and processes used to do it.
So next time you listen to Rooster Teeth, The Nerdist, any Kevin Smith podcast, Dr. Drew, Adam Corolla, or Stone Cold Steve Austin (plus many, MANY, many, more), you’re making him (and me) some money. THANK YOU, INTERNET!
I am so proud of him and so excited about this new adventure for him and us!
Now get out of here and go listen to some podcasts. Jim and I have some naps to take.
Over the weekend I went to my ten year high school reunion. It was actually quite pleasant and none of the dreaded high school reunion moments that you see in the movies reared their ugly heads. The common questions of the night was “how are you!?” or “What are you up to these days?” Everyone picked up where we left off and no one asked for an account of the last ten years. No one gloated or was stand-offish. We all openly acknowledged we were playing a game in our heads: “someone I don’t remember from high school or someone’s plus one?” Many of the people there were kids I went to kindergarten through high school with and that was a trip. Jim made far too many people who have known me since I was 5. Let’s just say I’m managed to do A LOT of embarrassing things since I was 5.
The dance floor was empty. Then the DJ played “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” and almost every person from the class of 2003 in attendance immediately got on the dance floor and did the electric slide because we all knew it like the back of our hands, after all these years. We all went to high school in Central California, after all.
And that is exactly what I would have expected from this group of good people I’m lucky enough to know. Good job, Team!
This is what Jim and I will call this week when we look back on it in a decade or two.
I felt the change coming, there were vague possibilities looming on the horizon last week. Sunday night I stayed up late, to have one last night where everything was the same, comfortable, familiar life I knew. To just enjoy this wonderful life of mine before the page turned and a new chapter began. Now, sleep is one of my top two or three activities. I love going to bed early and feeling good the whole next day. I LOVE IT. But that’s how nervous and excited and how certain I felt about the changes that would come. I was willing to give up SLEEP in order to take everything in, just the way it was, before it changed.
This was also the week where everything broke or got lost and needed replacing. And clothes we thought would fit were too big and had to be replaced. And the week we started looking for a new apartment. Because that is how life happens. It comes all at once, suddenly, and in a hurry.
We are not leaving L.A. and we are not having a baby, but we have each done things to better our lives and I will be able to talk about them on the internet next week. Meanwhile, my high school reunion is tomorrow, so talk about accomplishing something in the 10 years since graduation just under the wire.
Sorry for the tease, internet, but I wanted you to have some context and know that I really mean it when I say:
I WANT ALL THE NAPS.
This was all just so you could hear about naps.
As my most faithful of readers know, I have now been in Los Angeles for ten years, more or less. I drove to L.A. in 2003 in a 1989 Honda Accord.
Five years later, Jim drove to L.A. in a 1994 Honda Accord. A model five years newer than the one I drove to L.A. in five years earlier.
I hope we either die in L.A. or leave here in a 14 year-old Honda Accord.
Mid August 2013 marked ten years since I drove to Los Angeles with my 1989 Honda Accord full of stuff for my freshman dorm room at USC. My parents followed me with a minivan full of stuff. My older brother came with them. They stayed the night in a hotel and left the next day. My mother cried (my mother always cries).
I have been a college student, an administrative assistant, an intern, an SAT prep instructor, a crewmember at ArcLight cinemas, a sometimes actor, a sometimes model, a script reader, a costume coordinator, an assistant stage manager, a TV and film stand in, a bookseller, and a continuity coordinator for a radio network. I have often been many of those things simultaneously.
I have lived in a dorm on campus at USC, in University Village/West Adams (near USC), in a suspect neighborhood of East Hollywood, on the Palos Verdes Penninsula, in Thousand Oaks, in Hollywood, in Sherman Oaks, and in Los Feliz.
In the spirit of full disclosure, it has been an “on again, off again” relationship with Los Angeles, as a direct reflection of my on again, off again relationship with anti-depressants and therapy and the money in my checking account. Four months in Central California in 2005, two months in 2006, three months in 2007, another two months again in 2010.
I’ve gained 12 pounds since I moved here. In true Southern California fashion, my body seems to have distributed the extra weight to my boobs and hair, both of which are bigger than when I moved here at age 18.
I’ve eaten amazing food and met famous, interesting people (sometimes both). I’ve hear great music, seen phenomenal sunsets, named more neighborhood stray cats than I can count, and one time I even almost got a tan. I’m ashamed of how few times I’ve been to the beach and of how many times I’ve eaten frozen yogurt. I’ve seen the donwtown skyline at night a great deal and have hiked in the canyons and parks far less than I would like.
I’ve had my heart broken here and I’ve met the love of my life here. And Lord Almighty knows I’ve kisssed far more boys than necessary here.
After ten years, here are two things I know about Los Angeles:
Be nice. Be dependable. Not everyone in L.A. is. People will appreciate it when you are. This will also help you avoid burning bridges and keep as many future opportunities open to you as possible. And you’ll just feel good about being a decent human being.
Tacos are good for your heart. Finding tacos you love at an affordable price will save your sanity. When you are broke and low and hungry and just can’t rally to buy groceries and cook, it feels so much better to buy your favorite street food as a treat than it does eating off the McDonald’s dollar menu.
Here’s to the next ten, L.A.