small girl vs. big city

So. Here I am. On stage. When the spotlight is in your eyes, you cant see who’s out there but you know they are. Thank you for coming, now excuse me while I ignore you. The only way I wish to write (and live for that matter) is as if no one is looking. This is the first of -hopefully- many blogs. It is, for better or worse, the adventure I choose to live…

Rough day. As a general understatement. Flat back tire. No biggie, I even txt Matt a song about it. “Drivin on a flat, drivin on a flat…when you’re messin up your rim and people point and grin, ya know you’re drivin on a flat, flat flat flat”. I march the tire guy over to what I’m sure is a quick fix. I stop. I see it. A huge gash, not in the flat tire. IN THE FRONT TIRE. I can actually see metal laughing at me through the hole. I practically jumped over the hood only to find the same situation on another tire. Awesome. I want to vomit. Can I? What did I eat last? Will this guy notice if I puke because really that seems like the only logical thing to do next. We then debate which is a safer tire to blow: front or back. Really? Is this what I’m doing? Discussing an inevitable blowout with the same emotion I use to request paper or plastic. Nice. Steady…steady. Just keep it together….

“Don’t you value your life? why don’t you just replace the tires?”

“Ease up & save the hard sell for someone cheap. of course I value my LIFE. I also value the roof over my head I have yet to pay for this month…but I have to prioritize. I value a full stomach more. so can we handle one thing at a time and fix the flat please. I have an interview tomorrow I’d like to be on time for”

sunglasses. walk away. walk away. leaning on the side of the building…I cried as if I’m not an adult. well, I am late on rent, my car needs new brakes, tires, transmission…my car, that should have been paid off last month. I’m unemployed and single… can I even call myself an adult?

Matt and Mr. (yes that’s what I call him) did the mandatory “do you need help/i’m sorry/it’s ok to cry” gig. I pay and I pray and I pretend not to notice the long sympathetic stare the mechanic offered me as I drove off. I’m convinced angels will hold my tire together. Still, I cry in traffic all the way home. I txt the obligatory “everything’s fine, tire’s all good again” messages to the parents. That’s right, I’m (pretending to be) a big girl in a big city taking care of business. Nope, no cracks in this foundation. A gangster with a broken side mirror tried to comfort me through the open window with a “youre too gorgeous to cry”. I pretended the window was up and I couldnt hear him with a loud “WHAAAT?”. That kind of made me laugh. I made it home. 4pointed into my parking space. the one right next to my landlord’s car. before I get out, I write myself a “slow down…BOTH hands!!” note and post it over the spedometer. I go for a walk. it’s almost dark and I’m walking in koreatown. I have the hood of my black shirt up. I’m small’ish. I’m pretty. I’ve adopted the theory that the more trouble you look like the less trouble other people give you.  stealth mode…

 but then I hit the major street.. the hood came down and so did my guard. I chatted with a girl I didnt know about her pitt bull mix and what not to feed it. three years of living here and the foot traffic and the volume of people who either need or choose to use public transportation still amazes me. people say hello. couples are walking hand in hand. oh look my favorite band is going to be in town. I walk into the store, which for some reason suddenly resembled the Disneyland ride “it’s a small world”. people were happy, everything was bright. i resisted buying myself flowers and picked up the cutest cheap bottle of wine (I never buy wine, but I do know I like syrah and even if it’s not the best - a cute bottle will be nice to stare at), a small veggie pack and Breyers all natural rocky road ice cream. HA!–> rocky road <–That’s right. Workers ask me how I’m doing and offer to help me find something. I silently justified all three impulse purchases and patted myself on the back when I didnt buy the trashy tabloid I cruised while waiting in line.

home. the elevator isnt waiting in the lobby and doesnt give a care that i pushed the button to call it. six flights for the 4th time today. trudging up those flights, I wondered why I pay so much to live in a city that feels lately like it’s giving me the cold shoulder. shut up knee, you work perfectly fine - you arent going to pain me into waiting for an elevator that isnt coming. I miss my family. I miss my silly dog. Maybe I should just go home and get a “regular” job and have kids. HA! Double HA, the tacky carpets in the hall look more like old school vegas than old hollywood charm. wonder if that will ever stop being funny? sigh. keys, front door… the city lights say hello and the breeze asks me to forgive the day. “what bad day? hmm? what were you so upset about earlier?” A glance out of one of my huge windows and I’m back under the spell. I think the city tests me even harder now that I love my view. I come home to the honeymoon but only after spending the day out in the for-better-or-worse game. I put the wine bottle on my kitchen shelf. I’m not drowing sorrows - I got the wine because what goes up must come down and vice versa… so I will open it when I have something to celebrate. I nibbled the veggies (wow, ranch is so good because it’s 95%fat). Then I endured a few more mosquito bites while I swung my feet out of my window eating ice cream.  huge windows + slight fear of heights + no bars to stop me from that sheer 6story drop shouldnt = always sitting in my window sills. but it does. because staring at this great big city is somehow humbling and energizing at the same time. sitting and staring out of my windows when I wake up or before I go to sleep is…therapeutic. just as I was about to complain about the feathers from my duvet that poke me all night and end up rolling like tumbleweeds across my concrete floor…a homeless man wheels his shopping cart down the alley. wheels. priorities. perspective.

one interview tomorrow. two amazing people who made me feel like I wasnt completely alone today. three *ah-hem* is a crowd. four tires I need to replace. five - the # of times I’ve climbed the fire escape to get to what I’ve claimed as my private escape on the roof. skip to… countless blessings that will greet me with the sun.

I may be broke, but I’m so faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar from broken.

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