modern romance

What's romantic about the city life is the constants. There is always traffic moving. You can always hear people talking, or walking. Quickly, oftentimes they outpace those spending traveled time looking up at famous signs, all while speaking languages a Midwesterner can only pretend to guess. But what makes the city, or life living in the city (and especially L.A.), romantic is the constant of ebb and flow which leads to situations that so often happen, and happen with a sort-of divine stepping stone effect, one realizes when reflecting.

The house project is temporarily on hold, and until last week, I hadn't acknowledged - or even thought about - the length of time I have been unable to give someone my address to mail an invitation, card, or even to come by to hang when free. But, one friend suggested his feeling exhausted with being somewhat 'homeless', and at once, I was again pulled into that realization which sat like a dismal, non-precipitating cloud for months. April was the last time I had a place I could have someone send mail. And again, it felt like that had been long enough.

The reality that lives change, and with them plans, came to a head fall when - as predicted by some around the campfire that is our small Hollywood community - we were alerted two of our housemates were going ahead with their move to Oregon. Being that the plan with our partners began to flounder in December, and stagnancy became the theme rather than the progress we'd seen a few months prior, it seemed about right. So, I was not shocked and was passed the 'at-a-loss' stage when self-pity and confusion reign with the sense of uncertainty which can rule your days. At times, knowing the difficulty of having a job which pays little (but still not wanting anything more!) and trying to land a place in Hollywood, it makes a person (or me, in my weak nature) ask again, and again: "what the hell am I doing here, anyway?" But, then the days roll on, and the good-natured people and good-natured conversations, friend's couches and free lunches roll on and you realize that things are never bad with such blessings, and housing is something you ultimately can just deal with later. But, without forgoing the project which we intend to recalibrate and continue, it has come time to move somewhere, or at least unpack my car which has been stressed to the limit by a case of records, suitcases full of clothes, and odds-n-ends for far too long.

Tonight, I'm moving into a place with three other friends - who I had no idea existed when I came to L.A. 2+ years ago. Last night, as we prepped to sign the lease on a house that was formerly a psychic shop, situated 200 feet from one of the most famous streets in all the world, one friend asked: what are you most happy about with regard to the prospect of signing this lease, and moving into this house? At first, using my blinding sarcasm and annoying sense for disregarding significance I said something obscure and useless. But, a minute later I stated something to the effect - as above - of the absolute humbling sense I felt to be able to move into a house I never would have ever imagined being able to live in, with a group of people I love and who were was miraculously placed into my life as I never could have predicted, all together a few hundred feet from Sunset Blvd, again, the most famous bi-way for so many dreams and travelers from all over the world. It is significance; the people we find in the places we never could have forecast living, and seeing the providence of God's true Love for us in connecting those happenings and persons, who and which show you lets you that all is right and all with be right, and God, ultimately, is a romantic as well.


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