Monday, April 27, 2015

Valley Girls

I live with five girls in the Valley. When I tell people this, it raises some eyebrows, but it is one of the best living situations in which I have ever been. Someone is always home to chat, catch up, chew the fat -- it's kind of like being on a sitcom. From STD scares to stories of working alongside celebrities, there's rarely a dull moment when we're all (or mostly all) home. Or it's a pleasant kind of dull -- sometimes there's not much going on, but you're rarely alone.

They're each pursuing their dreams in the industry, and I have enormous respect for all of them. It's a hard, vulnerable, financially stressful journey-- but they are all happy because they are doing what they love.

When I moved to LA, I was bummed that my work wasn't on the (what I thought was) coveted west side. But I've realized that there is much to love about the quirkier, more easterly and northerly parts. My work is rumored to be moving to a more western location within the year, and I think this has given me pause to take stock in what I've learned and loved about this side of the city.


"It's impossible to hate anyone whose story you know."

I felt a sense of peace and love as I watched the Bruce Jenner special. His sensitive candor touched me, and reaffirmed that I can always be better understanding of those with whom I do not immediately relate.
His is an anguished, sorrowful, triumphant and hopeful story of a man who has never felt at home within something so universal, primal, vital, taken for granted -- his own body. And despite these feelings, going on to achieve such alpha-male feats few will ever comprehend...and also such common things like marriage and fatherhood. I think it is this mix of extraordinary and ordinary that makes Jenner both fascinating and relatable, a hero on many levels and in many forms. A world class athlete and a carpooling dad at the same time. Then add on the element of inescapable media scrutiny he faces as a public figure, and one is hard pressed to not sympathize with him (her).

On a lighter note, I thought it was hilarious how Diane Sawyer refrained from mentioning the Kardashians by name (except in her voice-overs on b-roll), instead referring to them as "them."

Monday, April 20, 2015

Living with ambiguity

I had a religious leader tell me this past weekend that it's unnecessary to connect dots of your life to have it make sense, because some things just don't. It's what I needed to hear, since a lot of things that have happened in my life don't make sense to me, and I waste so much energy grappling to find meaning from it all that the present becomes a wallow-fest of the past.

Living with ambiguity is something I realized I just need to get comfortable with. Dots don't need to be connected and things don't need to make sense immediately. Perhaps this longing for immediacy is a byproduct of living in the 21st century: let's face it, I'm addicted to instant gratification. It feels good and it's satisfying. But I need to be more cognizant of just letting things sit for the sake of sitting, putting them on a shelf like an old book that I can pick up again in years to come, or maybe never again (gasp!).

Ode to a crush of yesteryear

When a boy doesn't like me, I've matured a bit to take it in more stride than I did at age…say 21. I used to be devastated, my heart crushed to smithereens… and I began to doubt myself. I wasn't pretty enough, I wasn't smart enough, I wasn't witty enough, I wasn't 'motherly' enough…. or that I wasn't dumb enough or short enough (ha! To think I ever liked guys that didn't like a tall smart girl. Oh youth.)

But I've realized as I grow older, that I'm just fine the way I am. Sure there's always room for growth, and progression, but I take it a lot less personally when guys don't like me. In fact, I sometimes even go as far as seeing it as a fundamental personality flaw if they don't. Take this cute athletic nerd I liked a few months ago. Found out he's seeing some alternative, crass chick. Instead of pitying myself, I laughed about it. Even now, as I type, it's cracking me up. It's actually kind of interesting to me that I thought so much better of him! He seemed perfectly lovely in his own goofy way. Good family, strong education, college athlete…a good all-American nerd. But it makes so much sense now-- he would never go for me, I'm not his type! And that's totally cool… if not, hilarious.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's nice to have the confidence that age brings. I used to be pretty paralyzed by self-doubt, but now it feels nice not to care. I was also formerly bewildered when people said they didn't care what others think, but now I'm starting to get it. I don't think I could ever be completely impervious to others' thoughts since I'm human, but it's certainly a worthy goal.