Digging out

It’s my favorite time on campus.  Only a week to go before finals.  The students are busy but I have some leisure to sit back and watch them fumble frantically thru the last few projects.  Occasionally I lob some encouragement or advice their way.  Of course, the last show will leave me with a mountain of laundry and restocking just when they all run off for the summer.

The costume shop seems to attract more than the usual suspects at the end of the year. Which is very gratifying; I feel very popular.  It’s also noisy and crowded.  The usual topic, besides gossip about the last show, is the possibility of pitching a reality TV show about the shop to the campus television network.

After a month of non stop work, today I did my personal mountain of laundry and dishes.  I get the laundry but I don’t know how the dishes pile up when I am mostly eating on campus.  I think the cats must be having parties in my absence.

I made the mistake yesterday of going to Trader Joe’s when both hungry and tired.  I am not sure what all I bought but the freezer is full.  It was all so exhausting that I slept all afternoon to recover.

There’s still a long to do list of things that took a back seat to the dance concert but I am quite satisfied to cross those few things off.




One Year Later…

Now that I have been in LA for a year I have a few observations:

It’s really a 3rd world country. Hot, dusty, crowded. At least 2/3 of the city needs paint, repair, and good scrubbing. Only there’s a drought and water is precious so no one wastes it cleaning buildings and sidewalks and streets. That includes the stairway in my apartment building, which has probably not been swept by anyone but me since 1970.

The other 1/3 has an invisible gate around it requiring money and a car that costs more than I make in a year.

Everyone speaks Spanish. Even the Koreans. Everyone speaks English too but Spanish is the language of choice. The children all speak a kind of Spanglish as in “Mama, en mi escuela, the teacher said…”

I keep thinking that one morning I am going to wake up and be able to understand all the conversations around me. The way one does after spending enough time in a foreign country.

Speaking of cars, Angelinos love them. Not just in the usual “isn’t she a beauty” way. A favorite thing to do here is to rent a high concept car for the weekend and go for a drive in a vintage roadster, the Batmobile, or perhaps a clown car. If you aren’t up for dropping some $$$ on this you can always just hangout in Venice or Marina and car watch.

Driving near the ocean can be dangerous in some surprising ways. One morning I was nearly run off the road by a low flying seagull. Also if it’s windy the palm trees drop fronds, which are enormous, very heavy, and have been known to put people in the hospital.

There are street vendors and food trucks everywhere. A few of the things you can get: fresh cut up fruit, any kind of Mexican fast food, also Korean, grilled cheese sandwiches, pork rinds in giant bags, burgers, fried fish, and tamales. In my neighborhood alone there are at least 5 competing ice cream trucks each with it’s own irritating music box tune.

I am told that you can’t go wrong with food from a taco truck. I haven’t tried this because I am usually on my way somewhere I need to be and don’t have time to explore- that is, get lost by trying to circle back to where I saw the truck.  The tamales I got from 2 ladies in a mini van outside my library were delicious though.

I thought for a while that there might be a mosque in the neighborhood, which seemed odd but not improbable, because I kept hearing a unique chanting at dawn and dusk every day. It turned out to be the tamale guy whose cry of “Tamales, tamales, tamales” has the same cadence as a Islamic call to prayer.

The best thing so far about my neighborhood is that there is an amazing bakery across the street from the library. Fabulous, cheap and worth the wait in the line that snakes out the door. I discovered it because as I was leaving the library one Saturday morning, a heavenly smell pulled me across the street  and before I knew it I was standing at the counter asking for fresh bread and apple turnovers.

I got my new job exactly one week before the clothes for Tosca loaded out to the theatre. I applied for the job at Loyola the week I got back from the circus and then I waited.  Nothing happened for almost a month.  I worked on Tosca and kept a low profile.  There had been a regime change at the opera and as is usual in such situations, things were tense.

Also complicated.  I gave up my landline and with it my internet before going to Sacramento for the summer.  I intended to shop around for cheaper internet when I got back but didn’t want to make any commitments until I knew where I was going to be.  Therefore if I needed to use the internet I had to do it at the opera or at a friend’s place.  My cell phone gets lousy reception in my apartment without wifi making phone interviews a bit tricky too.

Once Loyola responded  I began to live a double life. I didn’t want to add to the panic and paranoia at the opera and I wanted to keep my job there if I didn’t have another one to go to.  I excused myself early from work and  raced to my friend’s apartment for the Skype interview.  When Loyola called in the middle of a production meeting, I had a panic attack then snapped my phone off.  Heart pounding for the next couple of hours, I waited until the end of the day, locked myself in the fitting room, and called them back.  Thank you West coast for being 3 hours behind.

It had all the elements of a silent movie farce.  Speculation in the costume shop as to what was going on with me centered around the possibility that I had a new man or a serious illness.

I got the job offer on September 20.  I had to be in LA to start work by October 21. I needed every penny so leaving the opera early was not an option.  I made a timeline.  I made lists. I made a budget.

On the top of the list:  get the car serviced before dress rehearsals for Tosca. It was a good thing too, because that weekend I hit a curb, blew a tire, and discovered that the rubber in all 4 tires was rotten. Only my car was in the shop for 3 days and any plans involving transportation, like getting moving supplies, had to be put on hold.

Next on the list:  Get my emissions checked and renew my Georgia tag  because the current one was going to expire 1 week after I arrived in LA and I knew I wouldn’t have time to get a California one before the end of the semester. The Saturday after getting my car back, my check engine light came on.  Mobility compromised and I can’t get my tag until it’s fixed.  Car in the shop for 3 days, again. I am now in dress rehearsals and have to beg for rides to and from the theatre.

3rd item:  Take the cats to the vet for shots.   I have let them lapse and California has strict rules about animals brought into the state. I make the appointment for the Monday after Tosca opens. I get my car back Friday morning and race around getting moving supplies. After filling my tank for all the necessary errands, my check engine light comes back on. I run the errands anyway.

My plans and budget require a revision.  My contacts have become uncomfortable, my eyes are watery and I can’t see as well as normal.  Detour to eye doctor.  New contact lens required.  Takes a week or more to get them.  If I chewed my nails at this point I wouldn’t have any fingers left.

I take the cats to the vet.  It is less traumatic than I had anticipated for all concerned and what I saved at the vet can go to pay the eye doctor.  The receptionist at the vet, when I explain that I am moving to California, tells me that they can provide health certificates for the cats that will help if I am stopped at the border.  Yes, please.  Only she can’t get her computer to print it and tells me to come back later in the week to pick it up.

The car goes back to the shop.

I get my new contact.  The prescription isn’t quite right- I can’t read street signs. The doctor revises it after a visit I don’t really have time for.  It could take another week.

I am staying late at the opera or hanging out at my friend’s so I can book hotels that are clean, cheap, and allow pets, find some moving men for the short term move to my son’s house, rent a truck, and a dozen other crazy making tasks. I have begun packing and purging but have a long way to go.  My schedule is being compromised by the extra time it takes every day to get around on public transportation. There are too many things in my house I don’t know what to do with.  I am seriously behind in packing.  I have too many people I need to see before I go.  I am inspired.  I will invite them to come over, help pack, and help themselves to the accumulated yarn, fabric, and other stuff I don’t need to hang on to.  This involves another errand, the purchase of party supplies.

My last day at the opera.  I have done everything I need to do there to pass the torch.   My car is fixed.  I buy party supplies.  I stop at the vet’s to get the certificate.  It’s ready but the vet is too busy to sign it.  Come back tomorrow I am told.

My horoscope says:  finish old business.  I’m trying.  What more do you want?

My car needs to be driven at least 100 miles or 2 weeks before it can be tested for emissions.  This is to give the monitors a chance to reset.  I know this but I just don’t have that kind of time so I risk it and take to the emission place.  It doesn’t pass.  The technician advises me to drive it around the perimeter expressway a couple of times and then bring it back.  I don’t  have that kind of time either but I don’t have a lot of options.  I drive it around the perimeter, 68 miles takes about 1 1/2 hours in Atlanta traffic.

Saturday morning, I do it again.  Then I stop at the vet’s where my certificates are ready.  Finally some progress.

By Saturday afternoon I am mostly packed, thanks primarily to my friend Diana.  So when my party guest arrive they cart some things to the curb, take away a few things for themselves, and leave me some much appreciated and unexpected gift cards for my trip. After they leave, I drive around the perimeter, again.

Sunday the stuff I plan to keep is moved into my son’s house where I also will be staying until I can get everything cleaned up in my apt., pick up my contact lens, and ideally pass my emissions.  Since he has 2 dogs, my cats are staying in my apartment until I leave town.  They are completely freaked out, hovering on top of the kitchen cabinets, since all the usual hiding places went with the movers.

Once everything is moved, I drive half way  around the perimeter.  I just can’t face the whole thing.

My apartment still has way too much stuff in it.  It will take too many trips in my car to take it to a thrift store plus there are 4 boxes of old taxes and receipts that need to be shredded and after filling the trash cans at my building I still have several big bags of trash.  I also have a TV to dispose of.  I do some research and discover that I can get the shredding done at Office Max and Best Buy will recycle the TV.  Only I can’t lift it by myself. A friend with an SUV comes to my rescue and we get the stuff to the Salvation Army in one trip.  She takes the TV with her and I take my 20lbs of paper to Office Max for shredding.

My contact is ready and this time it’s right and I can see.  Victory! I run by the emissions place.  The pretest shows it still won’t pass.  I drive around the perimeter again.

Tuesday is the day I would really like to leave but alas my car still won’t pass and I haven’t been able to finish cleaning my apartment.  I am shipping 7 boxes of tools, research books, clothes and patterns to LA so a trip to the post office is also on the agenda. I have clothes that still need to be packed for the trip along with the cat stuff and I still need to drive around the perimeter. My son and his girlfriend take me out to dinner.  There are exotic cocktails involved.  I skip the trip around the perimeter.

Wednesday has to be the day. I won’t be able to get to LA in time if I don’t leave by then.  I take my car to the emission place. No go. My landlord wants to know when I will be out so he can get in to paint.  The apartment still needs to be swept, I haven’t really cleaned it sufficiently, there’s still stuff that needs to go to the trash, I need to get the cats calmed down enough to get them into the carriers.  I just don’t have  the time for another circle around Atlanta. I race over to my mechanic.  His test indicates that the monitors have reset and it should pass.  Emissions guy says not.  I say damn the results, run the test.  If it doesn’t pass I’ll have to deal with in California.  It passes.  I leave emissions guy with his mouth hanging open.

It’s now almost 3 pm. My urgent need to get on the road today trumps everything.  My cleaning agenda is reduced to removing all the rest of the trash.  I load my car and trick the cats into their carriers.  They let me know how they feel about this but eventually the felaway kicks in and they zen out. I stop at my son’s house long enough to fill out the forms for my car tag, gather the rest of my belongs, and say a very poignant and teary farewell.  I toss the tag form into the box at the post office on my way out of town and head west into the setting sun.

Next:  A Cat’s Guide to Cross Country Travel

Ch ch ch changes

I have taken a life altering step:  I have moved to California.

Why?  The opera was going thru some serious changes, which I knew I could weather, but wasn’t sure I wanted to.  I tired of working really hard when I had work and then finding myself unemployed too much of the year.  I was beginning to feel that I was too old for this.  I was going stale.

I accepted a job running the costume shop for the Theatre and Dance department and Loyola Marymount University.  Year round employment, with benefits.  Something completely new for me.  Turns out I haven’t yet reached my expiration date.

It’s about time you announced this, don’t you think?  Since It happened 6 months ago.

I know, I know, but really I haven’t  had time to write or knit or much of anything.  I got the job in late September.  Finished the show I was working on at the opera.  Stashed my belongings at my son’s house, packed the bare necessities and 2 cats into my car, waved goodbye to Georgia  and, feeling very dazed and confused, arrived in LA in mid October.

The cats were not happy about any of this but more about that later.

I spent my first few months working like crazy because I started in mid semester and had to play catch up with everything.  I stayed with a friend who lived pretty far away from school and when I wasn’t working, I was driving or sleeping.

I had a break in December which I used to look for a apartment but mostly just drove around in circles because I was always getting lost.  I did get a place and after way too much juggling of time, resources, and sanity, moved in January.  Just in time to start the next crazy round of shows.

The department normally does 6 theatre productions and 2 dance concerts.  This is manageable.  However, in 2013-14 they did 10 theatre projects requiring support from the costume shop in addition to the 2 dance concerts. I was dancing as fast as I could and then…

The academic year ended.  There are no shows during the summer and the campus is quiet.  I have some leisure time.  I don’t know what to do without deadlines.  I miss the students and the liveliness they bring to the shop.

So what am I doing now?  Because I can’t seem to stop, I got permission to work 1 show at Music Circus.  I’m in Sacramento.  Working hard.

Just the usual.

I am on vacation.  That is, I have a bit of time off between my summer job and the opera.  I am spending it by cleaning up the cat hair and cat gack that accumulated in my apartment over the summer.  That and napping.

Yesterday I accomplished part of my to do list by cleaning and mopping the bedroom and hallway.  Then I set out to run a few errands, kitchen restocking and whatnot.  I also planned to stop by the opera and check on some things and use the internet since I cancelled mine before I left and I needed to print out some receipts and that’s not possible at the other places where I can get online.  Then I was going to meet up with the Friday night knitters.

At the opera, my key would not turn in the lock.  This is not unusual because the door is out of whack.  But, it wouldn’t work in the other door either.  No access for me.  It is now past 5pm and if people are still there I don’t want to disturb them since I am not on contract yet anyway.

I head to knitting instead.  The coffee place we meet at is empty of knitters and there is no reserved sign on our table.  I am hot and bothered.  I order a smoothie and check Facebook on my phone.  Knitting cancelled.  I also attempt to check my opera email but either the password has been changed or I simply can’t type it in correctly on my teeny tiny phone keyboard.  Another fail.

I drive home.  It is hot and I have been in California all summer where it is hot but not so unbearably muggy.  My car works better if I don’t use the air conditioning in city traffic so I have the windows down, sweltering and breathing in car exhaust from the other vehicles.

Once at home, all I want to do is lie down in my cool apartment.  I proceed to the bedroom with it’s newly clean floor and behold:  fresh cat gack.

Clearly I was just supposed to stay home and nap.


I don’t have a bucket list.  I don’t have one because the most enjoyable, unique, and memorable experiences of my life have always been unplanned.  A list implies that one has a plan in place to do certain things, visit that place, have that experience.  I know having a list doesn’t mean one can’t also have spontaneous wonderful moments while pursuing one’s list, it’s just that for me, the much anticipated planned activity never quite measures up to the ones that just happen on their own, serendipitously.

Today the stars aligned perfectly and provided me with an unlooked for fortuitous opportunity and if I had a bucket list, I would now be crossing an item off.   I had dinner at Chez Pannise.   It was lovely, beautiful place, attentive staff, fabulous meal.  It was wickedly expensive and I may regret that later but not just yet.

Thanks, Leon, for aiding and abetting.


Balanced here,

Waiting to fall forward,

To dance in the sunshine.

Even to go  backwards, to slip

Plunging down, washed overboard,

Drowned in a sea of rage and tears.

Rising after the storm has passed,

Dissolved in pure light.

I am stopped here,

Above an abyss of nothing,

Waiting for happy.


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