So, L.A. was a bust. Well, okay, not necessarily. Basically, I came to the conclusion that moving was an error. It was a decision based on emotions felt at a low point in my life. And after giving up my apartment, job prospects and personal relationships, I felt that the move was something I HAD to go through with. Something that was expected of me. Which is obviously where I went wrong. Oh, and going for absolutely no reason other than wanting to “wing it” was also not the brightest idea. My delusions of grandeur got way too big, even for me.
I guess I came to my LOST-esque WE HAVE TO GO BACK moment on day four of my 10-day road trip. I was emotional, crying every hour on the hour and not at all excited for what was ahead. My anxiety was the opposite of “on fleek.” I was miserable. My uncle (aka my road trip partner) was extremely concerned and even offered to turn around once we hit Austin. But I’m a stubborn baby bitch and I decided to forge ahead. After driving through the New Mexico desert with no service or other voices clouding my judgment, I realized that I belonged back in Miami.
Now, it’s a matter of starting over. Rebuilding. Getting back to “the old me.” Pero like a way better version of the old me. One that doesn’t make impulsive decisions. One that doesn’t pay attention to other people’s expectations. One that doesn’t drown in negative feels.
But, every experience comes with a major lesson. And this faux move made me so damn thankful for everything I have. For friends and family that ride or die with me and my unique brand of cray cray. And for this magical, beautiful city that is more than just my home. It’s my heart.
After spending a delightful week in Los Angeles, it would be remiss of me not to include a mini recap of what I was up to.
By now, it’s a well-known fact that I’ve decided to hightail it over to the West Coast come September. This crazy little idea took form over three years ago when my lovely mentor kept proclaiming how “tired” Miami was. She was right. Employment opportunities are scarce. Romantic possibilities even more so. Yes, this is my home. I will love it long time. But, considering I’ve never lived elsewhere, I’m feeling some type of way about the 305 by now. Then, after spending three weeks hiking Machu Picchu and tearing up Peru and Colombia with two L.A. natives last summer (who had nothing but amazing things to say about their hometown), I was inching closer and closer to this big move. And, while I don’t know why it took me this long to realize that I needed a change of scenery, I guess better late than never. Right?
So, off I went last week. I stayed with the aforementioned mentor and her amazing family. I got to meet friends of friends that so graciously showed me around and decided to have lunch/dinner with me so I wouldn’t be a friendless loser. I was invited to my first UCB sketch comedy show, cementing my decision to start taking sketch writing/improv classes there this fall. I had food that would make angels weep from its glory. I had SUPER (you can take the girl out of Miami, but you can’t take Miami out of the girl) pleasant Lyft drivers (one time for my main man Kyle). The kitsch and glamour of Hollywood is where I wanted to take permanent residence. AND….. I found a kickball league. Which I know sounds absolutely ridiculous. Pero like, it’s important to me?
Suffice it to say, it was a productive trip. One that made me feel sure (or as sure as I would ever be), that I wasn’t making a decision of the life ruining variety. Sure that the food and opportunities and people of L.A. were totally right for me. Oh, and the weather. After all, a girl can never have too many good hair days.