My fear was being stuck. When I had lost the weight, I gained some perspective, I gained confidence. Make no mistake, I had those companions before, but they were magnified now. For me, the gain I needed most necessitated that loss. When I had seen these beautiful, strong parts of me amplified, I could imagine being the girl who wore sleeveless shirts, the girl who expected to be noticed in a good way, the girl who could be considered…sexy! That girl, re-imagined, could have another life than the straight line I had drawn in front of me.
She deserved it.
She craved it.
Even after the gain of weight in the past year that I’d kicked ass at losing over 18 months, I knew there was no going back to that old girl. I had dreamed of college in New York once. Did you know? I did. I dreamed of writing my own words to share with the world. So, maybe the re-imagined was only reclaimed.
My fear was believing the lies the world told about me. I had briefly believed the lies boys stamped onto me, the lies some in the church stamped onto me; they stained my skin. God forbid I not follow their straight line. If I kept believing their lies, it was easier to get stuck. If I paired with some lover who didn’t love every inch of my brain, every centimeter of my skin, who would prop me up and remind me of my own strength? Who would help me stand when the world went dark?
For my grandmother who worked after high school in the 1950’s, before scholarships and loans, planning her journey into college, I couldn’t get stuck.
For my mother who is smarter than me, I figure, but never had someone to push her off the straight line of doing for others at her own great expense, I couldn’t get stuck.
For reclaimed me and my grandmother and my mother and everyone else who dreamed they could have a different life, for YOU, I couldn’t get stuck.
So, I moved off the straight line. That required significant change for me; maybe it won’t for you. I moved to a city where I never dreamed of living. Honestly, I sometimes think the ways of this city are the exact opposite of my intentions in moving here. Many are racing to blend in while I am fighting my instincts to step out of my comfort zone.
Oh, well.
I moved.
I’m still moving.
And maybe, that lover who sees in me what I am clawing to reclaim for myself won’t be here. Maybe the line will veer somewhere else, sooner or later.
But that girl --the one who imagined that in any mental, physical and emotional shape, she was worth a damn-- that girl lives here.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
I'm New Here
You'll be happy to know that I made it to L.A. in one piece, minus a lamp and laundry basket! Good riddance, movers. If you ever want to move across the country, I recommend you hiring a coordinator for that type of thing. I will not be applying.
In lieu of anything of real substance, here are a few of my observations that I feel you should know about L.A.:
If the weather here is as good as you think (it is), the traffic is as bad. Yes, we had great weather this week, just like last week (sorry, Arkansas!). This is spring, I think, but I don't even wear a sweater most days. It's sunny and bright until 7 or later, but there have been some random foggy and hazy days. No major temperature changes, though, which is really nice!
Traffic is a mess. My first weekend, it took me 2 hours and 45 minutes to get six miles from work, to a gas station with a free pump, to a grocery store where I could park about 3 miles away and back home. Now, it takes about an hour give or take to get the six miles to work. SIX MILES. I basically zig-zag across town on the half dozen street names I recognize.
One of the sayings I've heard about L.A. is that it takes "about 20 minutes to get anywhere, give or take an hour." I've also heard that a red light means turn left. Tell me about it! This is the city of left turns. I'm pretty sure one of those red light cams flashed at me the other day. Oops! This is also the city that hates pedestrians. Being that I have to walk across a very busy four-lane road, I get it, I really do. You have to cross the street. But pedestrians are everywhere. Now, I used to be a pedestrian downtown, perusing about the culture and stuff. Now that I live in such a high-traffic tourist area, I have really started to despise people in crosswalks.
If you add up all the time I've spent figuring out parking in the past month, it would equal an entire day, I bet. I circle around a store or restaurant for half an hour trying to get the hang of it. Just last Sunday, I wanted Mexican, but I could not find a parking lot I liked so I just cruised forever. A lot of restaurants, even small ones, valet because it's so difficult to find street parking. Even if you find a spot on the street, there are approximately three rules on every parking sign to follow. Depending on the day and time, you can get a ticket or towed (see picture below). Remember when we used to complain about parking in the RiverMarket and dammit if you had to pay?! Well, you have to pay to go to Target in L.A. Or Trader Joe's. Or Walgreens. For instance, I recently had the joy of getting my parking validated to drive through a McDonald's. Did not park, at all. I miss drive-thru, man. It's tough around my neighborhood to find one. And none of the Starbucks are drive-thru. What's up, friends?!
Prime time TV starts at 8 p.m., which is a problem, but cable comes with the apartment so that will be nice for the time being.
Plastic bags are out around here. You'll pay for paper. Take notice.
Just like you'd expect in such an art center, the visual advertisements are everywhere. Huge, colorful billboards on every major corner and every building's side is a new ad. The houses and buildings themselves are so visually stunning. Forget about the hills; the regular everyday stuff is pretty nice to look at.
Speaking of, everyone here is in the business or connected to the business. It's a city of beautiful people and I mostly feel white and unfashionable. HOWEVER, it is also a city of such beautiful diversity. On weekends, I hear no less than three or four languages when I go out. There are huge sections of the city with different communities such as traditional Jewish neighborhoods, Latino neighborhoods and gay neighborhoods. The amount of rainbow flags is awesome, even on churches. I used to think I'd want my kids to grow up in a small town, because it's so warm. But what if we all grew up with various types of people around us? Would we realize more quickly that maybe we are more alike than different and maybe no one is "right?"
And all of those communities are full of workaholics. People work. A lot. My usual day is not much longer than in Arkansas (9 a.m. - 6 p.m.) but my coworkers usually work 8 - 4:30 p.m. I stay longer because a) I require a one-hour lunch to de-stress and b) work is a beast! Fridays we do close early, and they were super flexible with my moving, so I'm not too worried about becoming that "L.A." with the work hours. At work, there is no end in sight of things to do, but the positive is that I know how to do the job. I rather think I do it kind of well! I'm optimistic about the potential of the program, and the volunteers are great. They are really eager and take initiative on projects.
You can't run errands or go out at lunch, because it takes so long to get your car from the garage and then get around town (see "traffic" above). There are a lot of places within walking distance, but I've yet to venture out on my own for fear I'll get lost and have to use my GPS like a goober. There is a Starbucks in the building, which I, surprisingly, haven't abused too much and a cafeteria. The cafeteria seems really efficient, until you try the food and realize it is, after all, a cafeteria. No gourmet.
I haven't ventured out into the city much on my own, to be honest, but I am volunteering at the literary festival in April. I'm also helping with a fundraising walk in May.
Note to self: Must. Meet. People.
I've already gotten real mail from friends (thank you!). And bills. I've switched all my addresses. I unpacked my real silverware and ran my first load of dishes.
I think I'm home.
In lieu of anything of real substance, here are a few of my observations that I feel you should know about L.A.:
If the weather here is as good as you think (it is), the traffic is as bad. Yes, we had great weather this week, just like last week (sorry, Arkansas!). This is spring, I think, but I don't even wear a sweater most days. It's sunny and bright until 7 or later, but there have been some random foggy and hazy days. No major temperature changes, though, which is really nice!
Traffic is a mess. My first weekend, it took me 2 hours and 45 minutes to get six miles from work, to a gas station with a free pump, to a grocery store where I could park about 3 miles away and back home. Now, it takes about an hour give or take to get the six miles to work. SIX MILES. I basically zig-zag across town on the half dozen street names I recognize.
One of the sayings I've heard about L.A. is that it takes "about 20 minutes to get anywhere, give or take an hour." I've also heard that a red light means turn left. Tell me about it! This is the city of left turns. I'm pretty sure one of those red light cams flashed at me the other day. Oops! This is also the city that hates pedestrians. Being that I have to walk across a very busy four-lane road, I get it, I really do. You have to cross the street. But pedestrians are everywhere. Now, I used to be a pedestrian downtown, perusing about the culture and stuff. Now that I live in such a high-traffic tourist area, I have really started to despise people in crosswalks.
If you add up all the time I've spent figuring out parking in the past month, it would equal an entire day, I bet. I circle around a store or restaurant for half an hour trying to get the hang of it. Just last Sunday, I wanted Mexican, but I could not find a parking lot I liked so I just cruised forever. A lot of restaurants, even small ones, valet because it's so difficult to find street parking. Even if you find a spot on the street, there are approximately three rules on every parking sign to follow. Depending on the day and time, you can get a ticket or towed (see picture below). Remember when we used to complain about parking in the RiverMarket and dammit if you had to pay?! Well, you have to pay to go to Target in L.A. Or Trader Joe's. Or Walgreens. For instance, I recently had the joy of getting my parking validated to drive through a McDonald's. Did not park, at all. I miss drive-thru, man. It's tough around my neighborhood to find one. And none of the Starbucks are drive-thru. What's up, friends?!
(Figure that out, please.)
Prime time TV starts at 8 p.m., which is a problem, but cable comes with the apartment so that will be nice for the time being.
Plastic bags are out around here. You'll pay for paper. Take notice.
Just like you'd expect in such an art center, the visual advertisements are everywhere. Huge, colorful billboards on every major corner and every building's side is a new ad. The houses and buildings themselves are so visually stunning. Forget about the hills; the regular everyday stuff is pretty nice to look at.
Speaking of, everyone here is in the business or connected to the business. It's a city of beautiful people and I mostly feel white and unfashionable. HOWEVER, it is also a city of such beautiful diversity. On weekends, I hear no less than three or four languages when I go out. There are huge sections of the city with different communities such as traditional Jewish neighborhoods, Latino neighborhoods and gay neighborhoods. The amount of rainbow flags is awesome, even on churches. I used to think I'd want my kids to grow up in a small town, because it's so warm. But what if we all grew up with various types of people around us? Would we realize more quickly that maybe we are more alike than different and maybe no one is "right?"
And all of those communities are full of workaholics. People work. A lot. My usual day is not much longer than in Arkansas (9 a.m. - 6 p.m.) but my coworkers usually work 8 - 4:30 p.m. I stay longer because a) I require a one-hour lunch to de-stress and b) work is a beast! Fridays we do close early, and they were super flexible with my moving, so I'm not too worried about becoming that "L.A." with the work hours. At work, there is no end in sight of things to do, but the positive is that I know how to do the job. I rather think I do it kind of well! I'm optimistic about the potential of the program, and the volunteers are great. They are really eager and take initiative on projects.
You can't run errands or go out at lunch, because it takes so long to get your car from the garage and then get around town (see "traffic" above). There are a lot of places within walking distance, but I've yet to venture out on my own for fear I'll get lost and have to use my GPS like a goober. There is a Starbucks in the building, which I, surprisingly, haven't abused too much and a cafeteria. The cafeteria seems really efficient, until you try the food and realize it is, after all, a cafeteria. No gourmet.
I haven't ventured out into the city much on my own, to be honest, but I am volunteering at the literary festival in April. I'm also helping with a fundraising walk in May.
Note to self: Must. Meet. People.
I've already gotten real mail from friends (thank you!). And bills. I've switched all my addresses. I unpacked my real silverware and ran my first load of dishes.
I think I'm home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)