Feb. 10th, 2007

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I wish I could just import my friends family and animals from Seattle here, because I really don't miss another goddamn thing. I don't miss the rain. I don't miss the chronic overcast. I don't miss Capitol Hill, First Hill, The U District, Fremont, any of it right now. The difference in mood and feeling I feel here, now that I finally said to myself "I have moved. This is my home now." is 100%. There are projects in the works. Creative collaborations galore. And it's crazy, but since there was a problem with work during the last two weeks owing to my car breaking down 3! times and being in the shop and the corporate phone pimp job blew me off the schedule, I looked for work. I made phone calls. Not just sex industry jobs, but other jobs and you know what? Everyone I talked to wants to hire me. I've never had an easier time finding a job. Ever. No resume? Fresh in town? No problem. Think about it. Call us and tell us if you want the job. This has simply been an unheard of experience for me in Seattle. For the first time in my life, I have the luxury of mulling over everywhere I interviewed this week and just deciding where I want to work. Nothing's changed on my applications. But something's obviously changed about me.

Either that or it's just plain easy to get a job in L.A. Whatever. I don't care. I literally have six job offers on the table. I'm having anxiety over picking the best one. No desperation. No having to take a job because I can't find anything else. Wow.

Of course, I feel a renewed sense of energy. Strength. And... what is that odd feeling that seems so unfamiliar because I haven't felt it so much in so long... Is that... CONFIDENCE?

Is it?

Sometimes I melt down in a pile of tears and anxiety wondering what the fuck am I doing? Where the hell am I? I'm lost and I'm obsessing over the Thomas Guide. I'm tired from driving so much. I'm hungry, I'm stressed. I don't know what to do. I'm wailing, stuck, scared that this big city is going to eat me alive but I have to keep my hands on the wheel. And I pull off at the next semi-familiar exit. I find a place to park and just freak out and cry and sob. Maybe call someone. And then I hang up. And replaced with the self talk I used to have, the "you stupid fuck, what the hell are you doing? You can't do this. You are a failure." is a new voice that says, "Okay. Calm down. Go ahead and cry. Freak the fuck out. It's okay. It feels good. Breathe. No. You don't know where you are or what you're doing. But, you are taking steps in creating the kind of life you dreamed of living. You are done with the cycles. This is new. This is you being strong. This is you fighting back when you feel like falling down. This is you cutting yourself a break because you're doing things differently, and you might not always get it right. But if you keep trying, you will. You're alive and you're living and you're taking initiative. You're taking risks. You're throwing yourself out there, even when you're absolutely terrified. You're strong. You're beautiful. You are making the best fucking lemonade out of life's lemons ever."

Where did this come from? I don't know. I don't care. If my biggest problem right now is a roommate that hates my guts? A temporary halt in cash flow? (Which is obviously in the process of being resolved.) Okay. I need a new place to live. Obviously I need to move closer to the center of things because that's where I need to be and mandatory long drives are a colossal stressful bitch. They suck, my car seats are uncomfortable, and my bitch really doesn't like to do much more than 65mph, which sucks in the land of 80 miles an hour, so I stick to the slow lane. I will love it as long as I need to. Then I will move on.

I panic in the face of change. I've panicked a lot in the last few months. I panic when I find myself inland, on a long ass stretch of highway. I panic because I'm in a strange new world. And this really is a strange new world. I'm acutely aware of the stark differences between Los Angeles and Seattle. The blocks you shouldn't be on. The sections of people. The little sections or towns or whatever that make up this huge county. The massive difference between the mansions in the Hollywood hills and the shitty run down neighborhoods just spitting difference away. Hopes and dreams and luxury balanced out with violence and despair and poverty. Everyone going fast, living fast, driving fast. Disjointed. Incohesive. Weird. Surreal. It's sink or swim. Everyone for yourself. Harsh. The heartbeat of the city seems to whisper, "Do what you can. Life is short. Love yourself or die." No better place for someone terrified of living to put their foot down and say, "This is where I've landed. This is where I'm going to live. This is where I find out what I'm made of. I will either make it here, or I will be destroyed. I have a clean slate and I now take responsibility for the new memories I will create. Some things will be beyond my control. This I accept. Sometimes things will be hard and I will feel like giving up. I will allow myself to feel this way and persevere. When I am scared, I will call someone I trust and tell them how I feel. I will make it through. I will get up and keep going."

I've found nothing more beautiful lately, than when people tell me they belive in me. It's brought tears to my eyes on more than one occasion. It's come in times when I've needed it the most. And maybe some people have been saying it all along, but I'm finally able to hear it. And I don't know if I can ever truly express how much it means to me sometimes.

I don't know what's happening next. I could be on the cusp of greatness or disaster. It's kind of up to me at this point. But although I am truly fucking scared, I can finally say that I am no longer ruled by fear.

And I am definitely interested to find out what happens next.


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August 2010

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