For most people, change usually goes something like this; something major happens and the moments to follow are greeted with a steady routine of processing first, adjusting second, adapting and continuing, third. That's for most people.
For people like me, change is usually followed up with a plane ticket. Most of the time, the plane ticket is one direction only….. A few weeks ago, I packed a carry-on bag, for my one way trip to LA Livin' on a prayer really, hoping that something would "work out." I'd been looking for job opportunities in the city since May and NOTHING. WAS. HAPPENING. I started to think I was being Sixth Sensed. Dead and didn't know it yet. Or something equally fucked up where the world just doesn't respond to your desperate pleas for change.
.....the instant I got to LA, with my seven outfits and my Non-Plan Plan, I realized why nothing had worked beforehand. I hadn't made the statement yet that I was ready for it to.
When I got here, after two weeks of an whiplash inducing, stomach churning, emotional rollercoaster rides, sans cotton candy and over-stuffed prizes--- Saying Goodbye to one life and Hello to a new one, holding onto the ledge still with one hand and reaching for New with the other, I let go. No net.....and like they always say it does, one appeared.
The day before I was about to go back home to get the remainder of my things and come back, (still with no job, a few freelance clients, a mangled soul, dwindling money and nowhere to live) OR stay in my room for the rest of eternity feeling sorry for myself, I got a phone call. About a job. A really. fucking. fantastic. job. After a few back and forth interviews, I was offered a dream position that I didn't think existed. I've taken a position for a small company that (in simple terms) assists high-profile clients, celebrities and their brands across all digital/social platforms. i.e. I get to work with amazing creative, inspiring people strategizing how to translate their awesomeness offline, online. And everyone knows what a Pop Tart I am, so working with some of my favorite celebrities on a daily basis is BASICALLY THE BEST THING EVER.
After the job was a go, the apartment fell into place, the dream neighborhood, the great furniture, the move was.....like butter. Smooth, easy, delicious. Not that I'm calling Butter slutty or anything.
Ironically, I live across the street from this lovely bird, who's an old friend (and fantastic blogger) and a few of my best friends in the entire world live in town, which means a lot of hair braiding and couch cuddling and all the drinking. The support system is incredible. Openly, unabashedly…. just, starry eyed, you-are-totally-fucking-stellar sort of adore these people.
My Ex-Love and I parted maturely, packing up my U-Haul together, moving pieces and making room like Tetris with our lives and our heart. Fitting. I miss him, everyday, I send love and light (I cry a little, or a lot) and then I continue. One foot in front of the other. Embracing all that's in front of me and sending smiles to all that is behind me and living, still, inside of me.
Gypsy Girl is used to describe the general way in which I approach life; freely, with optimism, story worthy characters, a little absinthe and a eagerness for adventure. She's back, my friends.
...sure... maybe she's running away, but she is running towards something. Even if that "something" is just a new perspective, inspired by looking at the same situation from a different angle. I like who I am when I'm moving. When I'm active, when there's demands on me and expectations that that I may not be able to live up to (but I will, boom.) Imposed pressure turns me on. So here we go.
Back to the Gypsy that I was....
Here's to all the uncomfortable, awkward, perfectly ripe and eager NEWNESS that is upon us.
WHAT'S HAPPENING IN YOUR WORLD MY BEAUTIES??