I moved to Los Angeles a little over 7 years ago. One of the main reasons I decided to move here was the ocean. Thing is, I’ve never lived very close to the ocean. For the last several years I’ve been living in a two bedroom/two bath. I had originally moved to a large place so that Holly would be comfortable and I would have a little more space for an office and all of the crap that I had been accumulating. I’m a former pack rat. Alright, so maybe I haven’t cleansed myself as well as I could, but I got rid of so much shit when I moved into this new place by the beach. It’s a pretty small place, but I have the ocean two blocks away, which means cool ocean breezes and relatively clean air. I skateboard around town on the weekends and it finally is starting to feel a bit like home.
I actually moved four weeks ago, but because I had to place stuff in storage, sell a few large items, have friends go through stuff I was going to toss or donate and the fact that I had thirty days to complete the move, I took every single day. It literally dragged on and I never felt like I was done until this weekend when I did the final walk-through with my previous landlord, loaded the last bit of stuff into my car and drove off. I was kinda sad about leaving my old hood and all the great neighbors I had, but I have new ones and change is good. I may not always be able to enjoy the change as I am going through it, but at some point I look back and it all seems worth it.
I have some lingering space issues. I can’t put up all of the artwork I own. I only have room for 10,000 Maniacs to Rage Against The Machine. I have a box of books with no shelves to put them on. I have a box of stuff I haven’t unpacked yet. I hate the ideas of getting rid of music, but it may come down to that. I can part with a lot of the books. I usually only read them once anyway, save for a few reference books or nice coffee table books.
I’ll get everything worked out. There’s plenty more to work out…