The Birthday

Most people don't want to talk about how old they are on their birthdays because they don't like to admit how many years they've lived. I am actually the opposite. I don't like talking about how young I am. For a while now I've had friends who are all older than me. At the University of Minnesota, the people who I was most likely to spend some significant time with were people who would look at me curiously when I said "I have to go write a paper now." Suddenly they would say "OH right! You're still in college." Once again, I find myself becoming good friends with people who are old enough to say "Oh wow" and look wistful when I tell them my age. There is nothing exactly wrong with this, but it makes me feel like I have to prove myself somehow - like show that even though I'm younger I deserve to run in their crowd. I feel like I fit in just fine. I was telling a friend the other night that I think I hit my hay-day when I was 13 and 14 the staying up till 4AM writing every night. Now that most of the people my age are up clubbing and dancing till 4AM, I've passed that prime and just go to bed at 11 like a normal person. Anyway my birthday can be weird in that respect: I don't like admitting my age just as much as the next girl, but for completely different reasons.

This year, there was a lovely birthday party outside with fresh food and wine with some good friends, which was perfect. I also learned recently that on your birthday, you can go to Catalina Island for free. This is a tourist haven on the chain of Channel Islands about 20 miles off the coast of LA, where you can camp, swim, shop, boat and stay in luxury hotels. Whatever floats your particular boat/budget. Also on Catalina Island is Two Harbors, California, which, having the same name as my hometown in Minnesota, is a place I feel I should take a picture of myself. Typically the ferry ride is $72 a person both ways, so getting one of the tickets for free is really what made the whole trip affordable. Because of the crazy cost, though I would have loved to take all my friends and spend the day running around together, it was only Alfred and I, which was also really great. 

When we arrived in the morning, there was a bit of marine layer of fog and clouds, but we could see the sun starting to burn it off in the distance, so we decided to get a huge breakfast and waste a little time.

By eleven thirty the sun had worn off and we spent the day walking around Avalon, the main town, kayaking and snorkeling. I have never been ocean kayaking, and the water and waves and sun were prefect. The water was a deep sapphire blue and from the surface you could see the massive kelp forests and rocks below. I did go snorkeling in Cancun a few years ago, but this time was so much better. There were more fish, an amazing kelp forest to explore and a ton of brightly colored and hungry fish who were getting fed by more of the other snorkelers and there very friendly because of this. Of course the Pacific is much cooler than the Gulf, so the water was not bath-warm, but having grown up swimming in Lake Superior, I could handle just about anything for 20 minutes.

 There are no cars allowed on Catalina, apparently, so all of the people drive golf carts. And live in tiny houses, I guess. 

Catalina is a place I've been meaning to get to  (partly because they mention it in Arrested Development) so this was a great way to spend my 23rd birthday (there you go - now you know how old I am).

Creating A Home In Tinsel Town

I have lived in Los Angeles for nearly a year now, and have yet to see a "real" celebrity out and about. I guess I'm not going to the right places. However, I may have one-upped that experience when on Monday I was having my usual Monday night dinner, wine, ice cream and The Bachelorette-watching party with lady friends. Suddenly, this commercial came on:

And I sat up, looked closer and said "I know her! I know that girl!" Well, know may be a strong word. She is a friend of a friend who I met at a film opening this month. The chances of her seeing me on the street or... in a commercial, I guess... and saying "I know her!" are not high. But, I have met her, so I went with it.

This week I was having happy hour cocktails with a friend (the same one who knows the woman in the commercial above - her husband is a TV writer and he was in an independent film with the actress in said commercial, so they are in this world) and some friends of her's were sitting a few tables down. We chatted for a little bit. After we walked away, I asked Whitney why they looked so familiar and she said they were in some commercials together and that the husband was a walk-on in The Office from time to time.

So, there you go. Those are the sorts of people I've been meeting on Wednesday afternoon happy hours.

I had a moment of finally feeling that I have a home here the other day: for the first time since moving here I was out in the neighborhood, having breakfast with Alfred at one of my favorite breakfast joints, and we ran into friends, totally unplanned. Our paths crossed as Alfred and I were leaving and Megan and James were coming in. I felt a wash of joy. I know people here! We go to the same places! To another person here I am not just another random person in the room! I remember one day just a few months before I left Minneapolis, I ran into professors at Target, friends at a bar, classmates on the bus. I felt so connected to the community and the other people who loved the city. I wondered how I could leave that for a city as huge and notorious as Los Angeles.

To be honest, LA is just a mega-conglomeration of small neighborhoods and especially now that I have a car, I'm getting used to the nuances. There is a place for everyone here, full of people like you. You just need to find them and an apartment you can afford to rent. There are about 4 "hipster" neighborhoods with subtle differences between the types (for example, do they ride bikes or mopeds?). There are 10ish beach cities full of different types of surfers and vagabonds and girls in heels and long skirts. There's Beverly Hills and Compton. A hundred ethnic enclaves. I seem to have located a place in the midst of this, or at least I've begun to.

So here I am. Staying. Who would'a thought?

California Central Coast

When Alfred and I were driving up towards Big Sur in January, we cut across the state towards the coast about halfway between LA and San Francisco. It was cloudy and wet. The two lane highway was curving between hills we could hardly see and the lack of housing was stark compared to the millions in LA. Suddenly, all around us, there were vineyards and wineries. When I think of California wine country I think of Sonoma and Napa Valleys, greenery and lush hills. These wineries are in the middle, drier part of the state, clustered around the city of Paso Robles. (For the record there are also several wineries in Temecula, which is even farther south and even drier.) We reached the sea shore without even realizing it that January day - the fog was so thick. 

We decided to make a quick stop at Hearst Castle to see if a quick tour is possible, but thank god we didn't go that day! Not only were there not tours available that rainy morning, it would not have been worth the money to drive up the hill and not get the views. Plus we were trying to get to San Francisco up the 1 and we had a long way to go that day. We decided to return some day soon. 

Memorial weekend opened itself up as a good opportunity. The first goal was Hearst Castle, but the wineries were a close second. We found a little B&B in Cambira, the little sea-side town just down the road from Hearst, booked the last room available and spent a really nice weekend wandering the two sides of the village, perusing shops, eating good food and smelling the ocean. It was a warm, sunny weekend with hardly a cloud in the sky. 

On one side of Cambira is the ocean

And on the other are rolling hills

We stopped by a beach where Elephant Seals beach throughout the year. We were there during the molting and resting period of their cycles. Apparently all year long there are at leas some seals on this beach, resting just below the boardwalk.

Sunday afternoon we went Eastward, towards Paso Robles, where the wineries and vineyards are. It was my first time exploring a tasting room and doing any real "wine tasting", though I have been enjoying wine for a few years now. All the folks who worked in the tasting rooms were very friendly and opened about their wines, not acting like we were too naive (which we may have been). It was warm and sunny and the ground was drier than I somehow imagined it would be in a vineyard. Apparently, wines from the Rhone region of France grow best in this part of California, where the climate is nearly the same. We had several red blends that were really great. One of the folks told us that the best time of the year to come is September and October, when all the grapes are ripe and the hills look like fall leaves from other parts of the country.

One of my favorite parts of this area was the old growth oak trees that vineyard growers are not allowed to cut down. They add an ancient feel to the area.

Minnesota Reminders in Hollywood

I brag about this all the time, especially to people who have just discovered the band, but if you have not heard, my parents live next door to the mandolin player from the band Trampled by Turtles. Eric and his wife moved in a few years ago and my sister babysits their kids from time to time. Of course I am not at home nearly as much as I would like so I can't claim to know him well but there have been many Clover Valley gatherings where we've chatted over a beer. Trampled by Turtles has gained their small spot in the national spotlight. They've been to LA twice since I moved here - the first time colliding with my trip to Portland - and their shows in Minneapolis are always sold-out hits. Since I live far away from a lot of their die-hard MN fans and I've got an "in" with the band, I got into their Hollywood show for free on the VIP list on Tuesday, which was fantastic!

I'm pretty sure nearly every Minnesota transplant who has found themselves in LA was at this show. All around me I heard people chatting about popular Minneapolis places like First Ave and Lake Calhoun and they called the band members by name, talking like they knew them. Alfred came with me and at one point mentioned everyone seemed to have a very particular "look" at the concert, which I'm pretty sure is just Minnesotans.

Of course it was hard to forget we were in Hollywood. Stepping outside onto the rooftop terrace you get the view down Hollywood blvd to the busy downtown area that somehow I am becoming familiar with. I'm getting to the point where I know neighborhoods and slowly I'm beginning to trace fingers on the map between places, learning how to get around and know more parts of this huge city.

Across the board, I've been doing a lot and keeping myself busy. Things are going very very well, though the stress level in my life steadily shifts and changes, waves up and down. I've begun to apply to new jobs for August, have some leads on housing and am planning my trip back to Minnesota in early August. Too early to know anything and I don't function well in not knowing. But this is a good lesson for me, I'm sure. Being present and grateful for what I've got as well as keeping things in perspective. It will all work out. It always has, one way or another, even if its not what I've planned. I'm trying to remember how much I like the way things have turned out in the past out when all doesn't go according to plan, since there really is no plan as of today.

What To Remember When Waking

In that first
hardly noticed
moment
to which you wake,
coming back
to this life
from the other
more secret,
moveable
and frighteningly
honest
world
where everything
began,
there is a small
opening
into the new day
which closes
the moment
you begin
your plans.

What you can plan
is too small
for you to live.

What you can live
wholeheartedly
will make plans
enough
for the vitality
hidden in your sleep.

To be human
is to become visible
while carrying
what is hidden
as a gift to others.

To remember
the other world
in this world
is to live in your
true inheritance.

You are not
a troubled guest
on this earth,
you are not
an accident
amidst other accidents
you were invited
from another and greater
night
than the one
from which
you have just emerged.

Now, looking through
the slanting light
of the morning
window toward
the mountain
presence
of everything
that can be,
what urgency
calls you to your
one love?  What shape
waits in the seed
of you to grow
and spread
its branches
against a future sky?

Is it waiting
in the fertile sea?
In the trees
beyond the house?
In the life
you can imagine
for yourself?
In the open
and lovely
white page
on the waiting desk?

- David Whyte

8 Months

Who knows when exactly I stopped looking at the mountains and hills and palm trees and ocean around me and saying in wonder "I live here!" It's been a while since the wonder wore off. I've been here about a week more than 8 months now and I think officially the newness of LA has worn off completely. I know my way around. I know what people are talking about when they mention places like Santa Anita, Inglewood, Pacific Palisades. I know what someone means when they say "I'll take the 134 to the 5 to the 110 to the 10 to Santa Monica." That makes pretty good sense to me. I have seen a lot of the metro and a lot of the area around it. I feel pretty good about it all so far.

I have been stressed lately. I have been working really hard to center myself, stay present and focus on the things in my life that are going really well and not move beyond that. But its been really hard. I've been feeling obsessive about random things and not focusing well. Then my highly-aware mother pointed out that not only was I going through really difficult things last year at this time and my stress level was really high, as I was leaving the country, trying to wait to see what I was going to do this year and dealing with a lot of personal issues.

The fact that come August, I have no plans and its still a bit too early to start applying to any jobs that might be opened today. I can't start working anywhere else until after I finish this year of service and I don't really have the financial ability to wait much time between ending this position and starting a new one. The plan as it stands now is to get an apartment and find a job in LA in mid to end-August, and I'm sure that one way or another this will come together, as it always has for me. But I realized that though I may want to be more free-spirited or have no plans, I rely and thrive on knowing whats coming next. And I'm really good at setting things up and putting things together. So I'm getting nervous and stressed and I'm not sure what I do about it because I still fall into the category of "can't do much yet." I think June and July is the time to start looking for jobs and apartments as well. I have some leads on both fronts, and I have confidence that I'll figure it out and things will come together as they always do, but, well it's starting to wear of me.

Also, my great aunt, Sr. Lucille is celebrating her 50 year anniversary of taking her vows this summer. My entire family is going to be in Minnesota to celebrate with her, and obviously I'm a part of that family so I'll be showing up as well. So, for all those keeping tabs and writing it in their calendars, I'm coming home from around the 4th until the 12th of August. No tickets have been bought, but the plan is set. I'm really looking forward to filling the time with as much visiting and exploring of the North Shore and Minneapolis as possible.

What I "Give Up"

People talk about doing something like me in terms of "giving up" a year of their lives. This makes me uncomfortable. I don't want to sound like a pretentious jerk, but honestly, the idea that making less money for a year and doing social service work means that you are giving up your life is just not true. You may be giving up certain aspects of your life, yes, and you may have seen them as essential before (and possibly after) the year or time of service, but let's be honest: no matter what you do, your giving up something. If you choose to work your way up the ladder of a huge cooperation, you may be giving up experiences outside of work for a few years, or if you travel to Europe for the summer your giving up time with your friends and family. Nothing is done without using something else. And to say "I gave up years of my life in honor of something/someone else" is basically saying could have been doing something bigger or better but instead you decided to be more lowly, which sounds kind of pretentious to me.

You made a choice we all make constantly. I "gave up" my last two years at Two Harbors High School to study writing at Perpich. It was the best decision I ever made. Last night I "gave up" a few hours of watching TV and relaxing to go to yoga class and felt great about it.

So what bothers me about people saying "I gave up a year of my life to do service in Americorps" or "I gave up two years for Teach for America" is that I feel like they are taking a moral high ground because of it. There is typically a tone of, "Look at this awesome thing I did while you were off making your career or going to grad school or raising a family." Maybe I'm bringing that to the situation, but I do think my judgement comes from somewhere real. And people think better of you for having done a year of service or participated in the Peace Corps or dropped everything to help disaster victims.

The thing is, these "service" jobs are AMAZING and AWESOME things to do, but they don't make us better than anyone else who for whatever reason didn't go do them. And to say you "gave up" can make it seem like it was not an enriching experience to give this thing up. But honestly, usually it is a very enriching thing to learn that you can live happily and healthily with a much more limited amount of money or in a community with different values and economic levels than where you grew up.

I also think that the things people do when when or if they choose not to go into service or travel or volunteerism are very valuable and enriching. I have friends who got married right out of high school and have lives that are deep, enriching and have so many different aspects than mine. I don't like looking at this as something we can judge anything but our own lives off of. It doesn't make me better than anyone else to have spent a year working with the homeless. It may make me a better person than I was, but not better than anyone around me. At least it's not my place to judge or get moral high ground around anyone else or their journey. (Including of course this whole post where I shouldn't be judging people for the pride they should rightfully take in their work with at-risk or needy communities. Ah! What a catch-22!)

And of course I'm doing all of this and I'm proud of what I've chosen to do this year. I am serving no one, even if I use this language from time to time. I take what is donated and facilitate it getting to individuals who need it, as my job description says. I don't know if I've come to any answers for the "big" questions I ask myself. I have not found better ways to cope with seeing poverty and suffering around me than I had at the beginning of the year. But I am doing good things and enriching my life. By challenging myself in many different ways this year, I am becoming a better person. But who knows what kind of a person I would be if I chose some different kinds of challenges instead of these.

Did this make any sense? I'm not sure even I can follow myself here...