Moving On

I’ve been meaning to write this post since June of 2012, in order to mark my decade anniversary of becoming a Californian. Unfortunately, when I start feeling overwhelmed I lose the ability to organize my thoughts, not to mention about 40% of my vocabulary. Right now I’m winding up a major case of The Feels, so I figured I might give it a shot.

This is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere. I had no expectation of that when we moved. In fact, it was possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life – I got in the car and traveled halfway across the country with no savings and no job. I had never even visited Los Angeles before I moved here. Every bad thing you know about LA is true; the Industry of this Industry Town trades on fantasy and shallowness, artifice and benign deception. As an otherwise unexceptional fat lady, I may as well be invisible here. My finely honed sense of sarcasm is not always appreciated. Actually, it’s not always recognized. I discovered I had a penchant for writing here, yet I think De and I are the only people around who don’t have a screenplay. As long as I stay here, I’ll never date – but don’t feel sorry for me, because as long as I stay here I don’t want to date. And yet… I like it here. I feel more comfortable here than I have anywhere else. I can have fuchsia hair at 40. I can be single and no one thinks it’s odd (or if they do, they’re polite enough to bite their tongue). I will never be the biggest freak in the room. I work a cubicle drone job and yet there’s no way I could possibly violate the dress code (ah, Industry), no matter how many rhinestones my glasses have, or how pink my hair is. Maybe it’s the sun. Maybe I had been living under a cloud of SADD for so long I didn’t realize  how little everything I thought was important mattered. Or maybe I just have to live somewhere I can bitch about to be truly happy. Somewhere I know I’ll never fit in, so I’ll never try to be anyone other than myself.

Up until rather recently I would have accounted Ardala a great contributor to my unaccountable contentment, but I’ve had a little time to settle and I seem to be doing OK (and I will get to that puppy bio as soon as I can make a mental outline without my vision going all blurry), if somewhat subdued. I am incredibly fortunate to have a full refrigerator, overflowing bookcases and good friends. I am thrilled I don’t have the ability to go back in time and give my younger self some valuable advice, because I never would have come here. It was the best dumb decision I ever made.

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