Greetings from the floor of my new apartment. That's right, the floor. A desk was delivered this morning, from IKEA, but my roommate and I have yet to set it or any of our other furniture up. IKEA is great and cheap, but everything requires assembly. Guess what our plans for tomorrow are?

The only things left to get are a bed for me and a couch for the living room. I was hoping the airbed would work for a while, but sadly, it has a minuscule hole in it somewhere, meaning that during the night I slowly sink to the floor. Not the best way to wake up in the morning.

No job yet. I had an interview last week, but the job was in Santa Monica and it literally took me 2 hours to get home in rush hour traffic. People who bitch about the L.A. traffic are not kidding. It's terrible, horrid, and wretched, and just when you think you're through with it, that the end is in sight, you hit more traffic. I hope I can get a job five hundred feet from my apartment, or else my commute is going to suck the big one.

So, the big day is finally here--I'm moving into my apartment! Now that I've gotten to know the area a little better, I realize just how centrally located it is. There's also a small pool right outside our window, so life is sweet. Today I have to go buy a million and a half things, because my roommate and I don't have stuff like trash cans and shower curtains. The place is small, but very cute. I checked the mail yesterday and found menus for two Chinese restaurants inside. Ah, yes, they knew I was coming! ;)

I might be without internet access for a few days--I'm going to call Monday morning for it, but it all depends on how fast they can get out there. We have power (yay, AC!) and gas (yay, cooking?).

We also have the world's slowest elevator, but hey, it's an elevator, so I'm not complaining (yet). I've also noticed everyone in the building seems to have a dog--I saw counted four yesterday, and I was only there for three hours! So, if the whole Hollywood thing doesn't work out, maybe I can be a dog walker.

I have an interview on Wednesday for an assistant position, and of course, it's in the one place that's really, really far from my apartment. And I'd have to take the worst freeway in California, the infamous 405, to get there. But hey, work is good, so we'll see how the interview goes.

Well, I'm here. In sunny L.A.! And that is no exaggeration. I've been here for almost a month now, and it's been sunny each and every day. No, I don't have a tan--thank you 50 SPF!--but I have logged a bit of pool time. Yes, I realize it's been ages since I've updated this! Apologies, and I'll try to be better about it in the future. In the meantime...

Things I've learned in the last three and a half weeks:

1) Truck etiquette! They do funky things with their lights with they pass each other. It's cool to see who is polite and who isn't.

2) People are friendly in L.A.! People have talked to me in the pool, on the street, in stores...it's cool. Maybe something about me screams, "newbie!" but people have been really nice and friendly. And
encouraging.

3) Always go to the pool. Every time I've gone, I've met people. Not that all I'm doing is hanging around the pool...

4) 3 miles = 10-15 minutes. And that's with no traffic.

5) Left turn lights, not so popular in L.A.

6) Even the fast food out here is healthy! Hello Koo Koo Roo, a chicken fast food restaurant that serves roasted chicken.

7) You have to pay to park *everywhere*! But, it's cheaper than it is in Chicago, so far.

8) Never buy water at Neiman Marcus. It's $5!!!! $5!!! That actually offended me.

I don't have a job yet. Well, not a permanent one. I have one for a week that I would be in a state of eternal bliss if it turned into a permanent gig, but I don't want to jinx myself so I did not just say that.

When I left home for my storage locker this afternoon, I had 10 full size boxes and about 8 smaller ones, destined for the teeny tiny space left in my locker, which I estimated was big enough for about 3 boxes. 18 boxes vs. space for 3...the odds were not in my favor. But, I had to make it work.

So I set aside two hours to attack the locker, to rearrange and shove and move what was already in there around so that the space could accommodate more boxes than I ever thought I could fit in there.

I won't bore you with the details. I pushed. I shoved. I unstacked huge stacks of boxes. I reorganized. I scraped up my arms and legs. But in the end, not only were the 18 boxes in the locker, but there was extra room--for 3 or 4 more boxes.

I am a packing goddess!

Yes, it's come down to the final three days. And yes, I'm freaking out a little bit.

Am I really doing this? Am I really going to leave my home, my friends, my family, the city I've lived in more or less all of my life to go halfway across the country to try to break into one of the toughest industries out there?

I feel more than a little nuts. Why couldn't I have wanted to be an accountant (okay, ha! not likely given my lack of math skills) or a publicist or some other general businessy type person? I guess the winters would still suck, though.

In all seriousness, I am excited. Part of me can't wait to go. But a big part of me is terrified, too, and knows I'm really going to miss home.

Yesterday, I got a suit--on sale!--for interviews. Basic black, just a jacket and a top and simple shell, but I figure it's versatile enough that I can mix it up a bit--put a simple print dress or skirt under the jacket, or pair it with black pants.

Today, I took my car in for a fuel injector flush. My boy is just about ready for the long drive--I hope! I still have to look into getting a full size spare tire, just in case something goes wrong on the road.

I also applied for a job! There's almost no chance I'll get it because they want to interview next week to get someone who can start July 5th. I can start July 5th, but there's no way I can be in L.A. next week for an interview. I still sent in a resume and cover letter figuring it was worth a try. The one thing I've learned that seems promising is that people seem to like to hire fast in L.A.--get hired one day, start the next. My fingers are crossed that a lot of people will be looking to hire the first week of July!

...and it's not so bad.

On Monday, I went to the beach with a fellow unemployed friend. Yes, that's right, the two of us laid out on the beach on a beautiful, sunny, warm day. You can start hating us now.

Today was all work, though. Packing, taking stuff to my storage locker, getting a suit--I felt very productive today. And yet, there's still a lot to do. The room is a disaster, which is upsetting my parents. And the storage locker is almost full. Will I be able to get all my stuff packed up in a week? Stay tuned!

Friday was my last day of work at my old job. It went well, and now I'm done, which is a weird feeling. It felt good to walk out of there on Friday afternoon, but what's going to be really weird is to not walk in there tomorrow.

Being unemployed sounded great in theory (well, not long term, but taking a break before leaving for L.A.), but now I'm freaking out a bit. As a friend of mine said, I'm taking a leap without the benefit of a safety net. I just hope I don't end up as a squashed bug on the sidewalk.

My friends had a going-away party for me this weekend, which marked the last time I'll see some of them for a while. It was fun and yet bittersweet at the same time. The move is now a week and a half away, which isn't long at all. That time is going to fly. Will I really be able to get everything done in time? Am I really moving to L.A. in a week and a half???

The countdown now stands at two weeks! And that means only two more days left of work. Once work is done, I can really focus on what I began this past weekend: packing. Though it's not going to be anywhere near as extensive as my last move, there is still a lot of crap that has to be packed up and put in storage, or must fit into my not-so-big car for the road trip out to L.A. I found a handy way to consolidate DVDs and CDs--a carrying case that holds over 300 of them! But only picking a handful of books isn't easy. And by handful, I mean anything under 50. Books have been my life for the past, well, twenty-nine years, so I need at least enough to make me feel at home, and give me some choice when I'm trying to decide what to read next. It isn't going to be easy to choose just a few (well, what I consider just a few).

Well, hopefully not permanently. But at this job, this is it. The final week! I just keep wondering, how am I going to get everything done. Usually, when I go on vacation, I'll end up staying really late my last day before the trip just to finish everything up. But this time, the vacation is well, permanent. *gulp* And I probably have to leave on time my final day, so I can turn in my key. I wonder when it's really going to hit me that I'm leaving. When my boss takes me out to lunch tomorrow? When I have my exit interview? When the department has my going-away party? Or will it not be until I walk out the doors of the office...for the last time?

from yesterday is when I'll be leaving for L.A. It's so close!

I'm actually a lot more prepared than it seems, packing aside (no, I haven't started). I've saved like a madwoman, and am actually above my goal right now, with hopefully a little more to squirrel away before I go. I've got a very generous friend who is letting me crash on her couch for the month of July while I look for a job. I've got two great girls to sign a lease with on August 1st.

I just need to get that job. I've started contacting people I know in L.A. hoping to get all the advice I can, and just maybe hear about a job opening or two. I'm also going to start looking on the internet next week, and sending out cover letters that basically say, "I'm moving to L.A. in three weeks" or something along those lines. Hopefully that will help me at least get an interview here and there, especially if I emphasize I'm willing to start working right away. I've heard things move quickly in L.A.

I'm still inspired every time I hear a story about someone who picked up and moved to a new place without a job! Just yesterday, a veteran freelancer came into work and told me about how he picked up and moved from a small town to the City fifty-five years ago, and well, it worked out for him! He ended up writing for a major newspaper for thirty-five years. Stories like that help me think that yes, I can do it. I will be able to find a job in a month in L.A. I just hope I'm not, you know, wrong.

I went to Human Resources today to look into extending, or "COBRAing" my insurance, today. I'd heard it was expensive--102% of the cost of insurance per month--so I was prepared to hear an estimate of about $200-250 a month. Ha! The total to COBRA my insurance, per month, is a whopping $497.18, plus one kidney. It's insane. I'm about to be unemployed, hopefully not for long, and the insurance company wants almost $500 a month from me? I would have to sell off major organs to come up with that kind of cash.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that I am insured until July 31st, so if I do find a job during July, this won't be an issue because a) I'll be insured through that job or b) if I'm temping, I'll earn enough so that I can pay the COBRA* and perhaps be able to buy two boxes of granola bars a week to eat. The other good thing is that the dental COBRA is only about $33 a month, so even if I'm down a few major organs and/or limbs, I'll still have great teeth and great breath.



*Clearly, there's a reason this thing is named after a deadly snake.

and then I am officially unemployed, for the first time in seven years. I'm terrified. And kind of excited! I'm hoping my unemployment will only last a few weeks--long enough for me to pack up my stuff here and drive out to L.A. But it's been seven years since I've job hunted--is it really possible to find a job in a month? I hope so. I'm going to start looking and sending out resumes a few weeks before I leave to give myself a jump start, but it still seems like a frighteningly short time to try to find employment. I think I can do it--I'm pretty flexible as to what I'll do when I first get out there--I just hope I'm being realistic.

There are some people who are great with change. They can cut off all of their hair, quit their jobs and apply for something totally different, or get in a car and drive halfway across the country on a whim and it works for them.

I've never been one of those people. I hate change so much that I buy the same brand of yogurt for week after week. I take the same route to work everyday. I've had nightmares about changing jobs because I'm so used to and comfortable with where I am. So part of me is sitting here and wondering...what, well, changed, for lack of a better word?

I started to see myself in the same job, with no advancement, year after year after year. Certain aspects of it, namely freelance perks, were enough to keep me in it for longer than I might have stayed, but after a while, every day seemed to bring the thought, "There has to be something more I could be doing." And that nagging little question gradually snowballed until it was the elephant in the room, sitting there and staring at me and saying, "You must go."

A lot of the time I think I'm crazy. I'm following some crazy dream that what, five percent of the people who try for it actually succeed? Two percent? I have no idea what the actual statistics are. I just know that as hard as it is, as impossible as it seems, I have to try. There's an old saying I've always like: "Shoot for the moon. Even if you don't reach it, you'll land among the stars." I've always believed in that. But that doesn't mean it's easy. Even if it is exciting and thrilling and part of me can't wait, there's part of me that's gutted by what I'm leaving behind. I haven't really dealt with that yet emotionally, and I'm more than a little afraid of the moment when it will all hit me.

The dog!

My mother and grandmother drove to the kennel, which is an hour away (because no kennel anywhere near us is good enough for Her Royal Highness) to get her on Tuesday. She enjoyed her time at "camp," as my mother calls it, but when she got home she was not pleased with my parents and proceeded to punish them for a day and a half. When my father came home Tuesday night, she refused to get up to greet him. The next morning, she whined until my mother got up--and then refused to go outside to go potty in the morning, much to my mother's annoyance. I was fortunate in that the hostility didn't seem to extend to me--she was happy to see me when I got home from work on Tuesday.

Luckily by tonight, she'd forgiven them. She came over to my dad, tail wagging, during dinner. He petted her and my mother and I encouraged him to say something nice to her. "Want to go back to camp?" my dad asked her.

They're baaaaaaack! I picked up my parents from the airport tonight. One of the first things out of my mother's mouth? "Are you wearing a bra?" Unfortunately I hadn't chosen to wear my Sunday (or in this case, Monday) best to swing by the airport. My mother was a little cranky from the flight, though my dad was in a good mood. I had already told them about my car accident and resigning from my job, but I had to fill them in on a little fall I took down a few stairs this afternoon. I landed on my butt so aside from some pain and presumably some bruising, I'm okay, but my mother couldn't refrain from asking, "Were you drunk when you fell?" Ah, it's good to have them back!

The day before yesterday, I had a minor accident with my car. I call it minor because thankfully no one was hurt, but it was possibly the stupidest accident ever. I was turning onto a narrow street in the Suburb and focusing on the traffic light ahead--and managed to ram my car into a parked car along the side of the street. I literally pretty much scraped the entire side of my car against this car (which, of course, was a long station wagon). I totally busted my passenger side window, and the sound was so loud that you would have thought it was a full on collision.

I got out of my car and after looking at the damage I had done, went up to knock on the door of the house the car was parked outside to tell the poor person inside, whose car I presumed I'd hit, about the damage I'd done. A lady answered, but it wasn't her car. She didn't know who the car outside belonged to, but she said she'd heard the sound of the impact from inside her house! She graciously gave me a pen and paper so I could write a note with my info to leave on the car.

I left the note on the car complete with like 8 million apologies--is there anything worse than coming back to your car and finding it damaged?--but luckily as I was pulling away, I spotted a woman going to the car. I parked again and flagged her down and we exchanged info. She said she'd take it in for an estimate the next day, and I told her to call me with it, figuring I'd decide then whether to pay out of pocket or let the insurance handle it.

The estimate was $1266. Needless to say, I called my insurance company right away and claimed that. I've worked so hard to save this year, and I can't afford that much money right before my move. Aside from the $250 deductible (repairing the mirror on my car will probably be more than that), my insurance is only going to go up $100 a year, because I'll lose my accident-free discount. It sucks, but I can live with that. Though it's not what I needed a little more than a month away from my move date, it could have been much, much worse and I'm thankful it wasn't.

I did it! I can't believe I did it. But I did! In three and a half weeks, I'll no longer be employed. Am I insane? Well, a little bit. I'm nervous and excited and terrified and thrilled...it's a lot to take in.

I went in early to work today knowing my boss gets in about a half an hour to forty five minutes before everyone else. I tried to come up with the perfect thing to say, but really there is no perfect thing, so I just walked into his office, asked if I could talk to him, and said that I was giving notice and explained why. He was awesome about it, and very supportive. He asked me about my plans and told me he was proud of me, and excited for me. I seriously could not ask for a better boss. I sent an e-mail around to the whole department after telling two other people I work closely with personally. By lunch time, everyone in the company seemed to know! People from other departments came up to me and told me they'd heard the news.

I can't believe this is real. Am I really doing this? It still doesn't feel quite real, and yet, now that I'm about to be unemployed in a few weeks, and I have an official leaving for L.A. date (June 28th), things are definitely starting to seem much more concrete.

Every year, I go on an outdoor, wilderness type trip with my best friends. Usually, we go canoeing and tubing in late August or early September, but seeing as how I'll be in L.A. by then, we had to move up the trip a bit and opt for hiking over a canoeing trip as the river is way too cold at this time of year. So we took a slightly abbreviated overnight trip to a state park and hiked around the grounds. We lucked out weather-wise, too: after two gloomy weeks of rain, we had a perfectly sunny day, with just the slightest hint of a chill in the breeze to keep us cool for some seriously lengthy flights of stairs. The trip was perfect, though it really drove home how much I'm going to miss my best friends.

I'm "allllll by myself" in the familial residence while my family pays a visit to my sister overseas. I haven't lived alone since I bid my hole in the wall studio apartment adieu in the beginning of November of last year, so it's a bit odd to be on my own again. Not to mention that it's a lot different living alone in a house than it is in one room. Some habits are easy to fall back into though--like talking to myself!

I also got a surprise when I checked the thermostat this evening--and found the heat off and the house at a cold 65, a mere 33 degrees above freezing! If I had my way, I'd probably set the temperature at a comfortable 76, but in deference to the heating bill, I turned it to a reasonable 70. I can't believe I survived last night at 65 degrees! I'm lucky I didn't get frostbite.