Yes, this is a post about love!

Anyway, something that I wrote but did not publish yesterday, inspired by someone who is reading this blog!:

I had a conversation with a friend today which reminded me of how wonderful it is to be in love. I do know this in an every day sort of way, having just gotten married (almost) three months ago. But I have to admit that being out of my element has muddled my sense of my good fortune. I've been too often clouded by insecurity: will I get a job? Will my career get back on track? Will I make friends here? Will I be a blood sucking leech forever?

But really, what it comes down to is this: That I am so blessed to have found this wonderful man who loves me, accepts me, balances me, and laughs about diarrhea with me. Of course I would move across the country to be with him. Duh!

I think part of my insecurity is that I am continually astounded that I've found my true love. The product of an unhappy marriage, from childhood on I truly believed that there were no happy couples. Sure, it appeared that some of my friend's parents had happy marriages, but I was convinced that behind closed doors, they had family secrets just like we did. Couples were really yelling at each other, crying, and putting each other down, they were just good at hiding it. Unhappiness was normal. As a teenager, I was attracted to boys "who needed to be saved". An alcoholic could melt my heart. Throw in suicidal tendencies or self destructive drug experimentation and I was gone. My high school boyfriend would hit me and then slash his wrists when I tried to leave him. After the first time he hit me, it still took me close to a year to get the fuck out.

I went to college determined never to get married or be emotionally dependent on anyone, ever. But like most people, I was still prone to falling in love. If I wasn't getting smacked around or screamed at, then it must be a good relationship, right? I had no clue.

It took five years of therapy for me to understand who I was, what I wanted , what I deserved, and how not to sabotage it once I got it. It was worth every penny and every minute spent on the subway from Brooklyn to the Upper West Side. I never thought it would happen to me because I didn't even think it existed. The man I've married actually calms, rather than exacerbates, my tendency towards anxiety, and makes me feel more, rather than less, sane. Go figure that.

In recent years, I've watched many, many of my friends find the person who seems to be their other half (to borrow from Plato as quoted in our wedding ceremony). It's amazing, and it is real.

On the agenda today:

1. Drink copious amounts of coffee.
2. Go on public transportation trial run to Pasadena.
3. Buy more clothes for THREE job interviews next week. Don't worry, there are better stores in Pasadena, and I know where they are.

We went out with some of Derek's college friends last night (actually, they were in bands back when he was mr. punk rock indie). As usual, I became drunk on one drink. But the good news is that I am enjoying meeting his friends. They are really down-to-earth, interesting, have good politics and are also artists and musicians! Also, I talked to one of their nice girlfriends and it was great to talk to someone who does not have a penis, a rare event these days.

what's the deal with nervous diarrhea?

OK just to dispell all your wondering immediately, no, I do not have my dl, but no, I did not fail the test. What happened, you ask? We went all the way to the DMV, went to the window to register for the test, only to be turned away because Derek does not yet have a California driver's license! He is still licensed in Maryland. (yes, Maryland) So, I was not even allowed to take the test, and technically he is not even supposed to be my driving teacher/helper. WTF????? So, after all that, the test won't happen until next week. Meanwhile, another five pounds has literally dropped out of my ass. (see above caption)

So, we left the DMV with a good attitude. Of course, I was perversely relieved that I didn't have to take the damn test and kept chanting my mantra that I could only be a BETTER, not worse, driver by next week. Right? Derek revealed that he also had sympathy nervous diarrhea this morning, and we had a lovely discussion on whether ND is food you would have digested had you not been nervous, food you would have digested over a longer period of time, or just your regular poop coming out soft. Any thoughts? (I have a feeling everyone is just going to ignore that one.)

I can't believe it's only noon because I've already had a nervous break down today. When we got home from the DMV, I discovered that I have another offer for a job interview. However, the interview is on a Wed., and and my driver's test isn't until Thurs., which means I can't get there on my own and Derek is supposed to have office hours during that time. This means public transportation. I did the research and it will take an hour and three buses/trains for me to get there while it would be about a twenty minute drive. So then I threw a fit at Derek for not driving me anyway, because who wants the added anxiety of taking 50 forms of public transportation on the way to a job interview? Then I felt guilty, and turned into a weeping, sobbing mass of self-pity AND anger. IE: "I didn't ask to come to a LA, I didn't ask to leave the job that I loved, what if I don't get a job here, I'm sick of being unemployed, dependent on you, and a burden." When I could not possibly go any lower with this nervous breakdown, I finally gathered myself together and decided to take a trial run of public transportation to the area this week, and if it's too horrible, to insist that Derek cut his office hours short. Or something.

God, it's so weird how I can go along being fine and dealing and then have a complete exhausting break down! It makes me feel a little crazy. If anyone could reassure me that they too at times have weeping and sobbing nervous breakdowns, it would make me feel better. Maybe even if you don't you should pretend that you do in order to be a nice friend.

Speaking of wonderful friends, I would like to wish the illustrious JIN a very Happy Birthday today. I hope that you are having ALL KINDS of fun, because you deserve it.

monday

Once again, it is Monday. Meaning, the apartment is empty, Derek is teaching, and I have a list of boring things to do. Look for jobs (not much posted today), clean the apartment, do laundry. I got a bit frustrated with my experience volunteering at the RC last week, but expect I will sooner rather than later try to get back in there again because IT IS BORING TO BE AT HOME and at least I felt like I was doing something sort of useful. I suppose there are probably also other places to volunteer, or other things I can do. But it's amazing how overwhelming it is to have NOTHING to do. In Brooklyn, I worked a demanding job, took classes and had an active social life. I'm sure it occurred to me, wouldn't it be nice to have some time off? Wouldn't I do all these wonderful things or create all these wonderful projects? But no, instread I feel almost... paralyzed.

On a more interesting and hopefully uplifting note, our stream of visitors begins today! My Dad arrived this morning on business, and although he is working and staying in a hotel, hopefully I'll get to see him. Then, a week or so later, my Mom comes to town, then, the beautiful and amazing Jin comes to town, as well as the funny and entertaining Nate. And somewhere in there, Kevin returns to play a show or two. So that should all be good for me.

The driving test is tomorrow. I think the only reason I would fail it at this point is my nerves, and because my nerves are very excitable, failure remains a distinct possibility. I so don't want to disappoint Derek. Online I've seen all these advertisements (mostly British - what's up with that) for hypnosis tapes to help you pass your driving test by calming your nerves. If I fail the test tomorrow, I am going to seriously consider this. Even this weekend when Derek pretended to be the driving tester, I would get all panicky. So it is worrisome.

interview

Just to let you know, the job interview went well, I didn't look too stupid, my clothes fit and I did not show cleavage.

Seriously, it did seem like a good place. Different from the work I've been doing but still working with kids so that's good. It's hard to really know what I think when I haven't interviewed anywhere else here yet and so can't really make comparisons. Don't know how well I did in the interview - it lasted awhile, but who knows.

Tomorrow: my first appearance as a faculty wife at some function at P*****. woo hoo.

testing 1,2,3

having trouble posting, will this one show up?

Day of yuck.

The good news: I got a job interview! For Thursday. I like to stay pretty grounded about these things, I could hate it and I could also really fuck it up. They could discover that I am not yet driving on my own and not want to hire me just based on that. Or maybe it won't even be a job that I end up wanting.

Job interview forced me to go to a mall to buy appropriate clothing. So, I have a Macy's gift card and went to the only Macy's I know about, across from Ikea in a mall in Burbank. I guess that's all that really needs to be said: mall in Burbank. The center of the porn industry, and apparently also bad trashy mall stores for teenagers. I mean, where is a good old Banana Republic or J Crew when you need one already???

Everything, everything is too big for me. I tried on several suits that made me look like I was a small child who had borrowed a suit from my extremely large mother. Swimming in the suits, people. Then, I decided that social workers don't REALLY need to go to job interviews wearing suits. It's OK if I just get a nice top to wear with a very nice, expensive, and professional looking black skirt that is already in my closet. (no, I do not already have a nice top. I hate shopping, therefore these things are not just lying around in my closet waiting for me.) I give up on Macy's and go to look for other stores in the mall. The nicest store there was the Express. I go back to Macy's. It takes Derek (to put it mildly not known for fashion sense himself) to walk around the store with me pulling out appropriate tops because at this point I am deranged, unfocused, and hyperventilating. Not pretty. I finally found a decently professional looking shirt. It is still a little too big for me, but if I strategically safety pin it, my boobs won't fall out in the interview. Yeah!
And I still hate driving on the highway. I cannot imagine doing it unsupervised. All those big cars zooming past! Scary! But I did successfully paralell park two times. Did I mention only six more days before the behind-the-wheel test???

I am married to a patient saint.

Okay, and if you are out there reading this my dearests, on a more serious note, I received an email yesterday from the ex, yes, the one who is here and does not know I am here. Unless a mutual friend has told him. Just a friendly email, but we all know how that's gone before. So, once again, feeling very guilty about not telling him I'm here and about ignoring the email. Would like to think we could exchange friendly emails but don't trust him not to emotionally manipulate me and make me feel like shit. Please advise.

Our trip to the desert.

1. First, in order to get to the desert, you have to drive through San Bernadino county, otherwise known as the inland empire! This is where Derek spent his senior year in college living in a house called Twin Palms with a couple of heroin addicts (it took him about a year to realize that part) and being attacked by wild dogs. Anyway, it is shockingly horrible. Subdivision after subdivision - and we make fun of communist architecture? - and a layer of smog so thick you could cut it with a knife. Now, I realize that the smog is also rolling in from other places (like, um, LA), and that we New Yorkers could also have smog if we were cut off from everything else by mountains. But it just paints such a clear, depressing picture of what is happening to the environment. And, I've really never seen anything like this before.

2. Derek taught me that it is fun to drive while listening to music. Let's not go pretending I'm a confident driver, or that I don't spend the first ten minutes of any highway driving hyperventilating and whining: I hate this, why are you making me do this??? However, when that all settles down it is fun to drive through the desert in an easterly direction listening to certain songs (Bri) and pretending that one is in SFU. Yeah.

3. In Joshua Tree, we climbed up on some rocks where you could see the forever landscape of desert, more rocks, mountains, and no signs whatsoever of human habitation, just a few animals coming out at dusk, little desert bunnies and kangaroo rats and chipmunks. We drank red wine straight out the bottle and watched the sky change to pink stripes, then dusky purple and a perfect full moon rising up behind the rocks. We'll be back in the spring, when the Joshua trees begin the flower, and I'm told they carpet the desert in white petals.

I actually had fun.

Yesterday things looked up a bit. When I needed to get out of the house, I went to this cafe that Z. had recommended that is near my house, and it was sort of San Francisco-ish, so I decided that when I am feeling extremely homebound, I will just go there.

I sent out a ton of resumes, and felt productive in that respect.

Then, my friend Rey came over and took Derek and I to this weird kitchy lounge place where this old couple sings standards and disco songs with drums and a keyboard. (I think this was in the movie, Swingers.) I thought, LA is way more into kitsch (how do you spell that?) than New York is. And it is sort of amusing.

Also, I have discovered downloading music. Favorite pastime of the unemployed.

things get better, things get worse

That's the way it goes. It is slow, riding these ups and downs.

Being unemployed makes me anxious. The job search is now in full swing, but I've no idea what to expect. In my experience, it takes awhile and is such a random process. Ads are posted, some real some not, some with specifics they are looking for that you might fit or you might not, and no way to tell when you are sending out the resume. So you have to put every bit of effort into everything, with no telling which one is real.

I've realized that I'm an intensely social person. I guess I always knew this, have always craved rewarding friendships and even sought out a career that depends on my ability to connect with people. So even though I have a wonderful husband, I am very prone to feeling lonely. Talking on the phone helps, email helps, but (unfortunately) best of all is connecting with people who are actually here in Los Angeles. And I'm grateful that they have been so welcoming.

Derek is encouraging of this, but it also puts it very starkly that it is not enough to just have each other. It will be even more challenging if next year we move somewhere that we know no one. I've been more strained by this, I think, even than I expected to be. Bri, I know you've often talked about, and even incorporated into your wedding ceremony, the importance of your community of friends supporting the relationship. It is so true for me too, that I need something outside of the relationship. It's too much pressure on the marriage, and makes me feel like we are cracking. It goes like this: I get moody and although he says he wants me to express my feelings, but my feelings are guilt inducing to him. Then I feel like I'm letting him down by not being "happy" here (and it is important to note that we could be somewhere so much worse, that LA is actually a good place to move, and that it could be worse next year), then I get panicked worried that he's going to divorce me. Yes, it quickly spirals.

Anything that helps me feel that I am building my own, independent life helps. Volunteering at the R.C., coffee with Z., making plans with Rey, even a good job lead. It is encouraging to know that these things help. But there are still the bad moods in between, and there will be for awhile.

I'm a dumb blogger.

Oh, I just posted my last post, then I read the comments from my darlings. So I'm responding here! Yes, in the spotlight, since it is my blog!

I was laughing out loud because I had no idea that I made it so that you had to have a blog to write a comment. Wow, that is strict. However, I could say that I did it on purpose so that Crasia would have to start a blog! But I guess I'll try to change that, for when I decide to get future readers. But Crasia, I think you should have a blog too! It will be fun.

Bri, I think in a few days I'll let you link it. I do want to feel like I can say snarky things about LA if I want to though, without people reacting. I really don't totally hate LA, but I want to say mean things about it sometimes. There were great volunteers too, people who seemed like, well, anyone from New York (um, which equals great to me right now. yeah). But there were also people with facelifts and really dramatic sunglasses on, and that just seemed weird to me!

Thanks for the encouragement you guys. I love you.

I hate driving, I hate driving, I hate driving. Does anyone actually like driving? Or am I destined for the rest of my life to participate in this thing that I hate? I drove from our house out to Claremont today (40 min., more like an hour with me driving) and when we arrived I was worried that I would not be able to uncurl my hand from around the steering wheel.

More distinctly LA stuff:
When volunteering yesterday with the hurricane relief, there were many different types of other volunteers. Retirees, college students, young professionals, etc., and a sub-type that appears to be much more common here: dramatic women who have had a lot of work done on their faces. Yes, there are many more women here (than in NY) with faces that look like the Jackal (or whatever that character is on Batman). I thought it was a stereotype, but no, it is true.

Also, at Thai food with Derek and Kevin last night, and the women at the next table are having a very loud conversation, and a direct quote is: "the state of American television is in dire peril." Television, dire peril, and no sarcasm intended.

one big bad thing, two small good things

I don't like that walking is not something that is done in this city. This has nothing to do with my lack of driver's license. I am working on the license and I will get the license. The issue is that in my former life, walking was a pleasure, whether walking to run errands or just to go for a walk. I tried to go for a walk for enjoyment today, but it was not so enjoyable. I find that I am either walking on very busy streets, or no one is out and I don't know whether it is a "safe" area or not, because I have no fucking idea where I am. And being paranoid, when I have no fucking clue where I am, I won't walk unless other people are out. The part about LA not being walker-friendly is something I do not like. Also, there is this big, gorgeous park literally one block from my house. But no one even walks there during the week, so it doesn't feel safe either. (On the weekends it is fine and populated.)

Two small good things: Janet was right, the shopping is better here. Better clothes, better prices, better vintage stores, and they seem to be anywhere. So once I get a job and my own money, maybe I will enjoy shopping. Also, the giant pan-Asian with lots of Mexican products grocery store down the block from my apt is the other good thing.

LA, I don't know what to make of you. I'd rather be in Brooklyn. Pine, pine, pine.

This blog is begun at the suggestion of Bri. She thought it would be a good way to keep track of me. I think it might ground me a bit by encouraging me to write on a regular basis. We'll see.
I've been in Los Angeles for nine days. There has been good and bad. The good: exploring, on Saturday driving to the coast to take a walk on the beach, then driving back through Topanga Canyon. The low point: Zock peeing on my boots, which began a downward spiral ending in me crying and saying "I want to go home." Of course, Zock could have peed on my boots in Brooklyn too. But then I would have a job, and feel like I can afford to buy new boots. And, I would know where to go to buy boots. So it wasn't really the boots, but the culmination of feeling pretty constantly disoriented, frequently lonely, and, though unemployed for only a week so far, worried about my prospects for contributing to society or even just my own household. Of course, then I felt like a huge asshole both to Derek and to the currently very suffering world for being brought to tears by a fucking pair of urine soaked boots. More fodder for the self-deprecation machine.
Not to sound too negative. It is fun to explore, it is great to be outside more and experience more wonderful sunshine-y weather. Yay. It's just overshadowed by homesickness for me right now. So why try to get a job as soon as possible? Because I think I'll be better off busy.
What is home, anyway? Brooklyn was the longest place I lived anywhere - nine years. Twelve years total in the tri-state area. I guess that made it feel like home. I could get anywhere on the subway or bus in New York City. I knew what to expect of every neighborhood in Brooklyn. I won't even talk about four of the best friends I could possibly have, all within walking distance. Or the job that I actually loved.
But then Derek left Brooklyn, causing me to feel dislocated there. And when I came here, all my belongings were here, and my husband, and our two cats. So how could I then be at home anywhere but here?
My days have been spent unpacking, alphabetizing books, making trips to Target and Ikea, learning to drive, freaking out on the highway, seeing new things, thinking about how different it is here! Reading the news, obsessing about the horror that is New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. Obsessing about the horror that is the Bush Administration. Missing people, feeling emotional, being easily set into tears. Enjoying Derek's company, shoving pills down Ace's throat with a pet pill popper, hanging out with Amy and Kevin, who are visiting from Brooklyn.
It's time to work on getting a job.