What a Difference a Year Makes

This one year’s leap was an extreme… But I think that about every year.

For me it was my work life, my personal life, and my location that have changed. With a simple decision. A simple text. An inquiry. A favor. Nothing that preceded the decision or the text or the inquiry or the favor was simple, and sometimes hurtful, but necessary… apparently.

The mysterious sounds of Stranger Things are echoing through the room as I’m writing this- one of the few albums I kept listening to in a loop when I was slaving away at my 7 – 3.30 in the Valley. Whenever I wasn’t answering phones, that is. It reminds me of the time that led up to this. I planned my road trip for a good month. The change was necessary and I would never have decided against it.

I was excited for the planning process, looking forward to pretty much everything. I’m a Virgo, planning is what I do. I had my hotels booked in time, the car was reserved, accounts cancelled or changed, and whatever else you do when you move. Except I barely knew half the things I needed to cancel or change since it was my first move by myself within the US. I think I did ok.

I bought an actual road atlas. On Third Street. At Barnes and Noble. This was my first call-to-action to myself, kind of a warning shot if you will. It was the end of October. Halloween was about to end (Halloween for me is an all-­year thing, except for Christmas which is granted the remaining two months).

Two weeks later, I gave notice to the Valley office job.

My friend and Ocean soul-mate Laura had just managed to fight her way back to LA.­ It was the first time I had seen her in about a year and a half (?). She made it back. And I was leaving. A few days before I headed out, she stood in my loft living room between packed boxes and said (in a nutshell, and in German) “Well, it still looks very livable”. I wasn’t sure whether I hadn’t packed everything soon enough, if I had missed something despite my meticulous planning and cancelling and informing and booking and on-setting insanity. It was entirely possible.

But I hadn’t. Time just needed to pass.

November 29th rolled around. The day my friend Aiza came over with her few months old son and they nearly froze their butts off (I say “froze”, but it’s LA, guys… We get wimpy after a while. Still, it was chilly.) while I was loading my life into back of the rental. I couldn’t thank her enough. I must’ve made around 20 trips while she stood there, patiently, watching over my belongings.

Last evening on my living room floor

Just as quickly, the 30th of November came. I spent the night at another friend and family’s house. The same house I had stayed at the very first two weeks when I moved to Los Angeles. They had a dog that was not only adorable, but also very old, sick, and incontinent. So my friend had laid out paper towels in the bathroom for the poor doggy to go on during the night after we had our last supper (Domino’s sandwiches… because Chinese food is to celebrate, not for saying goodbye).

Last sunset walk for now

My alarm went off at 4.30 am. I tiptoed around the dog-­pee­-toweletted bathroom floor into the shower, got ready, and headed out. My phone plugged into the car, my Leaving-­LA-­Playlist ready, I didn’t even look at the cup of coffee that my friend had warmed up for me. As soon as I was headed out the driveway in the protective quiet darkness of early LA mornings…. The driveway where I first set out to on my LA adventure, to which I returned after an intense movie premiere, and where we had comfort Chinese food…. Everything came back to me in an instant and I tried to push the memories away. I couldn’t. I had to concentrate not to turn into a waterfall right then. Keep it together, please… just keep it together…

The planned route


Road Trip Part I


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