Thursday, January 26, 2012

The Day We Didn't Move To L.A.




Yesterday my husband was all like, "Look, you have to decide if you really want to move to L.A or not".

To which I was like, "Stop judging me, bro! Why you always gotta be telling me to decide about L.A. when all I want is to enjoy this delicious panini?"

Then he was like, "No, seriously. Someone out there wants to interview me. In a job-type manner." I went all slack-jawed and then he said, "Now give me half of your panini".

This really interfered with my plans for the morning, which had been to write a blog and to read some Supernatural fan fiction (is there any other kind?). Who can enjoy a panini and fan fiction when you are contemplating your fate? To make matters worse, this morning I woke up to a house smelling of fish. This is what you get for eating healthy. You wake up and your kitchen thinks it's a brothel by the sea. "Houses never smell like fish in L.A," I told my husband. "Damnit, you used up all the stuff for paninis".

The problem is, what I really want is to move to Taos, live quiet, have a blue door, keep bees. No, wait. What I really want is to move to Paris, pay exorbitant amounts of money for a shabby apartment, buy dinner fresh from the market every day, stroll in the gardens, write in the cafes. BUT NO WAIT. What I really want is to follow the sun, take my girls to the beach, write scripts, try to sell them.

And also what I want is to stay here in Longmont, where it is cozy and safe.

You see? No wonder I am eating paninis at six in the morning, crying in my robe, asking my five-year-old "but why does the fish have to smell so fishy?". No wonder I do things like swear at librarians and google "Dean crying" online. (Try it)(The googling, not the swearing).

Here is what happened: I spent the morning reading Martha Beck and trying not to think about Los Angeles. I needed space to process. Meanwhile, my husband texted me every five minutes about Los Angeles. "Houses do to smell like fish in L.A," he said. "If you cook it right". We are different in this way. He is all like "Pros and Cons" and "To live in L.A., you might have to get the kind of job that pays money". Meanwhile I'm drinking tea and intoning, "My spirit guide is pretty quiet this morning". Just last week I told my sister that Britney Spears was my spirit animal. I don't think she believed me.

After a morning of panic, banana bread, Dean slash I'M NOT TELLING stories, more banana bread, it came down to this: the job didn't pay enough to live off of, not in the City of Dreams. "I have no intention of moving to L.A. and wearing Sam's Choice denim," I say, which isn't exactly true. Just yesterday I bought a Mossimo peasant blouse at Goodwill and didn't think twice. But you do get my drift.

Here's what I think. You can try to live your life like an arrow. One direction, one ultimate goal, your every movement focused and strong. I don't know where that gets you, but if Robin Hood: Prince of Theives is any indicator, it gets you stuck in a tree trunk or some woodsman's poxy shoulder. Me, I live my life like a peasant blouse at Goodwill.

Blowin' in the wind.

I am Vesuvius and this is the most ridiculous blog I have ever written.

11 comments:

  1. I'm glad you aren't moving to L.A. Only because I love seeing your beautiful face at Heather's parties. Maybe you can have all your dreams come true from in Longmont, or you can just wait there until you make enough money off your dreams to buy a gorgeous house in L.A. Or Paris. Or Taos. Or maybe you can just eat pannini's and not worry about it.

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  2. The upside of living as a "Prince of Thieves" arrow is the possibility of hanging out with Alan Rickman. Downside, Kevin Costner.
    It's ridiculous in the most delightful way. So much pannini. All major life decisions should be accompanied by stolen pannini and the consideration of Sam's Choice denim. If there was anywhere on earth NOT to be caught dead in that, it would be L.A.

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  3. Colleen, the panini thing sounds like a plan. In fact, let's take it even further. Just imagine all the things I could eat and not worry about it! (Unlike fish)

    S, let us not forget the beauty of Christian Slater in his heyday.

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  4. Found your blog from Twitter. Love it. Following now. And, moving doesn't sound soooo bad. Fish smells like fish anywhere, unfortunately. We've moved to 3 different cities since getting married and it feels good each time.

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  5. Thanks, Nicole! Are you sure houses smell like fish in your city? I think you might be wrong. (Are you cooking them right?) In seriousness, I admire your bravery. Relocation takes guts!

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  6. My husband's a chef in LA and when he cooks fish, our house doesn't smell like fish so maybe it's not the city but the fish or the cook? Just saying.

    I sort of hope you move to LA but what do I know?

    This might be the most ridiculous comment I've ever left, but there you go.

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  7. V, moving bites. Having left Westminster, CO, to relocate to Phoenix, AZ, I can tell you with every certainty that moving bites. And you have to move for the right reasons, etc. Now that we're in Austin, TX, I still miss parts of home (including Longmont - do we know each other?!), but am way happier than in the desert.

    The good news is, none of these moving decisions are permanent. You can always move again if it sucks too much.

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  8. I LOVE moving to a new city. It is so exciting and empowering for me. I do realize that most people don't feel the same. I've lived in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, Baltimore, LA, NYC and now I'm getting ready to stoke my wood burning stove in Nevada City. But just remember "Wherever you go, there you are." -Buckaroo Banzai

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  9. Oh my goodness! When you left that comment on my blog (Thank you very much by the way, I passed your compliment on to my photographer, also know as my husband;) I thought you were kidding. But I come here to find out you were, in fact, NOT kidding at all!!

    I moved to LA in '86 and thought I'd live here a couple of years and then move to Miami Beach. I'm still here but I think I'm only just now getting used to the place.

    Good luck and if you ever do decide to move here, I'll buy you a cup of the best coffee in LA.

    Cheers!
    J.

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  10. "The problem is, what I really want is to move to Taos, live quiet, have a blue door, keep bees. No, wait. What I really want is to move to Paris, pay exorbitant amounts of money for a shabby apartment, buy dinner fresh from the market every day, stroll in the gardens, write in the cafes. BUT NO WAIT. What I really want is to follow the sun, take my girls to the beach, write scripts, try to sell them.

    And also what I want is to stay here in Longmont, where it is cozy and safe."

    Hahaha Precisely!
    Every once in a while my husband mentions how low the tax rates are in Florida and how lovely the weather is in the winter... when he does that, I kiss him and change the subject! The Mojave Desert, yes. I could take magnificent shots of the desertscape & slather fresh aloe on my face everyday. Orlando? Nevah!!!

    I came here via the lovely Periphery's blog & am glad I did... Enjoy that Mossimo blouse. & thanks for all the fish. :)

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  11. I’ve been an unpremeditated, unintentional peasant blouse myself, but I am content.

    ~Mom

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