We've officially been LA residents for three months! I got my CA Driver's License finally. I got my DL when I was 17 and living in the Bay Area, so they managed to find my old record and give me my old number. (Big Brother is real.) I had a little disagreement with the entirely pleasant clerk who took my application. I stated "red" on the hair color question. However, I actually identify my hair color as "Ginger Spice." She had to fight me about whether I am blonde because when I was 16 and got my permit I was blonde. I don't identify as blonde but I guess because of bureaucracy that's what is happening on my ID. Lots of people don't have their true identities on these documents and I'd rather work towards a third no gender marker on IDs than self-selected hair color.
I picture my life as a two lane highway through gorgeous countryside/forest/oceanside (those are my favorite roads). Being on the pavement is "balance." That's feeling like I'm getting things done, going in forward motion and taking care of myself in the ways I need--mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
Life happens and I'm constantly course correcting back and forth across the pavement until I sync up with it again. And then the road starts curving or somehow I veer off the road and then I am doing it again, course correcting until I get back on the pavement.
Life is inevitable forward motion and inevitable curves. I'm just always working to make sure that the road is pretty, mostly enjoyable to drive and that I make sure to appreciate the view. I'm not always on the pavement.
Tomorrow marks four weeks since we took possession of our dream house / super quirky rental. I kind of can't believe that it's been so long because it has gone by so fast.
We've been so focused on getting the house put together while trying to manage all those new things that affect how you settle in somewhere that it is hard to feel that we're in LA for real. If you ignore the time of year and weather, which is very special and wonderful, I could be anywhere learning new stuff. Where is the bank? Where is the grocery store? Which grocery store do I supplement Trader Joe's with? How many times can we go to Home Depot before we become a lesbian cliché, and do I get a pass for a certain period of time after moving? Where is the most ethical/farm to table butcher shop? (The last question still unanswered.)
As soon as we decided to move to LA I insisted I would only move into a house. They have all of these houses out here that are 2 bedroom, 1 bath bungalows, with little yards and washer/dryers and no walls sharing with anyone else. I've never lived in a stand alone house as an adult.
A huge part of why I was so ready for a departure from NYC was to live in an area that had less population density. Not that LA is a bunch different but it is more spread out. My apartment building was a huge pre-war beauty, with a Flintstones meets Camelot style grand lobby and truly the biggest two bedroom apartment of anyone I knew. But it was also a box in a building full of boxes, with people surrounding me at all times.
As I've developed my woo, I am realizing how much space I need, physical, emotional, spiritual. It's helpful for me to get recharged in places where all I can see in one direction is what (in my belief) the Goddess made. Nature. The beach. The forest. The rolling Smokey Mountains. The desert. It's really exciting for me to get to live in a climate where my seasonal depression will be more low key.
I met Bryn almost ten years ago at a Mixer party (I think that's what it was called) at Levi Braslow's loft apartment. I thought she was a cisfemme who was really into conventionally masculine trans guys but it turned out she was trans. It took me a few weeks, she told me and laughed at me. She also didn't tell me she was HIV positive until years after we met (she got progressively more out about it). She moved from rural Ohio to Michigan to New York City, if I'm remembering the whole trajectory. Even though she was from Ohio she was in rural Appalachia and definitely identified strongly with my West Virginia loves. She was queer country, through and through.
Bryn was slow to get to know. I was in the phase of my life when we met (around 26/27) that I was quick to make friends. If I thought you were awesome I would trust you right away. She was more like a cat who comes into the room you're hanging out in, scopes it out, but it takes a long time to hang out and chill. We talked about that, years later, when I realized that my overly trusting nature was getting me fucked over by people. She and I agreed there was probably a healthy middle between her inclination and mine. I wonder if that shifted for her?
It's pretty clear I love tea. I especially love iced tea in the summertime. Four years ago, Dunkin Donuts really upped their iced tea game and I was hooked. They are everywhere in the North East--there are literally three between my house and my partner's house and we only live about a 12 minute drive apart. Because they are so pervasive I find myself there getting an iced tea or a coffee every couple of days. Also they have almond milk, which is great for me as dairy is a no go much of the year due to my allergies.
I love tea, and I also LOVE a coupon.
A couple of years ago I had my first full reading with my astrologer, Katie Sweetman of Empowering Astrology. She told me that I should be decluttering. It was a big spiritual thing I needed/wanted to do but because of elements of my chart I don't remember, it was also something that was hard for me. Both a struggle and something that I needed to happen for my spiritual growth.
In the Earthly realm I can tell you straight up why decluttering is hard for me--I moved 13 times by the time I was 13 years old. I had a working class single mom, so between financial uncertainty, divorce stuff, and moving towards the best public school district she could, we were on the run a lot. As a kid, coming home from summer camp to a new place is jarring. I have a thing with wanting to feel settled in a space and I think having stuff is part of that. It's also from a place of having been really poor/broke in my life and wanting to make sure I can be safe and have the things I need. I'm a pantry always full just in case kind of person. State of emergency and stores are closed? My house is where you want to be.
In the past couple of years I've been leaning towards late in life minimalism. Well, my version of it, which, compared to how I used to be, will appear way more simplified. (I love glitter, accessories and flamboyance too much to truly ever do minimalism.)
Because we didn't know what was causing Macy's anxiety, we decided to have a consultation with a Pet Empath, Dawn's Animal Connection, that many of our friends had used. I figured, why not? I had heard good reports. It was good value for the money and I'm always open to new woo modalities.
Activist movements, as in almost all things, can suck you dry—there is always more to be done, more people to reach out to, more actions to plan, more art to make, more reaching out. But at a certain point you have to be able to say, this is my limit. But we’re not socialized in a way to know what our limits are, to think thoughtfully about our capacity, and how to use self care in order to build our capacity. We're not socialized to be able to say, "Enough, I can't do this any longer." I've seen it wear down on people until disease forces them to make big life changes.
I love Michelle Tea. I can't say much more than at 22 years old I read Valencia and finally found a literary voice that sounded like my own. Kind of breathless excitement about life, stories and a fascination with other people and my feelings and how they affected one another. Reading Michelle Tea told me I could be a published writer, too. It also told me I could maybe one day be an artist and have an amazing group of inspirational kind of reckless friends and all of those things came to pass.
How to Grow Up is her latest memoir. I have read much of her work over the years and I think it is my favorite. Her writing has evolved a bit, it's still chatty like a friend telling you a story over coffee rather than writing a story and letting you read it. But the sentences are tighter, shorter and the sentiments are clearer. Also, she has a lot of really deep self-reflection and self-compassion that sharpens what she says through lessons learned.