June arrived, and I was ready for it. I had been counting down the days until I could leave the purgatory that Los Feliz represented for me. The bad lonely-girl juju of my apartment sublet. The swath of screenwriters and actors furiously seeking their big break…and possibly being ready to do anything to get it. My solitary walks around Vermont Ave, Hillhurst Avenue, Hollywood Blvd. Bad dates with nice people.

My landlord had taken a job writing for Comedy Central in NYC, and she was back packing her life away. She procured the registration for the car, the little Prius nightmare – soon the lease would be transferred to me, or so I thought. Not so soon.

I packed up my little life into my two suitcases. The big silver one has a big turtle and a turtle-like shell pattern molded around the sides. One wheel hasn’t completed fallen off, but it has lost 99% of its structural integrity. I thought about that Sunday in Palermo a year ago when my original suitcase, the one I had hauled all over the world, had broken. I lugged the bulging 50+ lb suitcase through the cobblestone streets with no data plan to guide me to the hotel I had booked that morning. I arrived dead. Tired. Wondering if I should push myself to explore the contours of a shuttered Palermo on Sunday. I needed a suitcase. I needed it that day. And so this shop magically appeared before me like a mirage. It was open until 8pm. Even more surprising.
Continue reading My Venice Nest →

I now have a natural repulsion to the place I’ve lived for all but 8 years of my life – New York. I remember the almost romantic feeling I used to have when returning to NYC from my travels, my sigh of relief at returning home as I easily communicated with the customs agents or saw the cityscapes whizzing by in the back of a yellow cab. Home. It was big, anonymous, always whirling. Yes, it was home.

When people would tell me they didn’t like the city much, I thought they were probably not particularly interesting (I used to be kind of judgmental…don’t judge). When my old boss Eric said he had to get out of the city at least every other week, I nodded but didn’t understand. I mean, what was the big deal? When my friends’ parents were always going to their country houses, I thought it was mainly for show and wondered how they could deal with such logistical hassles on a weekly basis instead of just walking around the corner for a bagel with cream cheese and calling it a day. Continue reading Returning to know →

I got into the cab at “SEA-TAC.”

“Hi! This is my first time in Seattle.”

“Welcome,” said the taxi driver.

“How is it living here?” I asked.

“I’ve been here 18 years, and I’m used to it.”

“Is it always this rainy?”

“Yes, from October until April.”

“But every single day?!”

“Yes.”

“Oh, well it must be nice and cozy. You can stay in and relax instead of being tempted to go out and run around.”

“Or be depressed. Mostly depressed.”

“Oh.”

I sealed it, wrapped it up, closed the sequence. Or was it the many layers of an onion or the ages shown in the slices of tree trunks?

When I left corporate life in May, I wasn’t sure where to go and what I should do? I had no real plan, though there was an imprint of one in my head asking to be articulated. I would lay in my bed for hours, mind racing through cities, jobs, and possible futures? I believe strongly in intuition, and I believed that if I kept spinning these options around in my head, one would just feel “right.” But the answers never came, and so instead of thinking myself into an answer, I just started living. Instead of asking my brain if I wanted to move to San Francisco, I got on a plane and went there. Continue reading 2016, 2017, life was a palindrome of experience →

San Francisco was a nest. I flew in a little hatchling straight into my friend’s house on Guerrero Street in the Mission, and I cozied up in her guest room. From time to time, I would sneak bites of the ever-growing chocolate stash accumulating in her kitchen. This was her latest project, obsession, and future business venture. Based on my consumption patterns and the fact that I never ever eat chocolate otherwise, I would say that her business is going to be a raging success.

My New Year’s Eve evening is reflective of my current state of being and hopefully isn’t a harbinger of things to come. I sat around sick for much of a day and started to coordinate plans. Liz brought me a plate of chicken and risotto from upstairs. And then I was in bed tucked away by 10:30pm.

The theme of 2017 is learning to sleep.