A couple of realizations

When people ask me about living in Los Angeles: "What's it like out there?" "Is it hard to move West from the East?" "Is it lonely?" - I've always said that the most important thing in LA is a strong support system. That's a pretty tall order no matter where you live. Building relationships on a solid foundation of trust can be a difficult task. It seems even harder in an new environment and harder still in a place like LA.

I had a few unsettling realizations this weekend.

There always comes a point in my stays in LA where I start to really see people. I mean, I begin to see how they value their relationships, what they want in life and what their real intentions are. That's pretty difficult to face and at this point of my trip, I usually get to run away from the ugly truth and go home. I no longer have that luxury. Now, my challenge is seeing these qualities and dealing with it. I am struggling between two extremes: Being open to the world around me, so I am available to meet new people and learn new things. Am I too open? Am I making my self susceptible to the superficiality around me? Am I setting myself up to get hurt. The other extreme is keeping myself guarded. I am doing my best to tread lightly through this alien landscape. In the wake of the former, I close up as to protect myself from rejection and loneliness. Am I missing out? Which of the two is worse.

A harder realization, along with recognizing the intentions of the people around me, is that everyone here wants somethings. They want an "in," a "connection." They want their name on a list, a VIP booth and the spot closest to the celebrity around them. I suppose that's everywhere, but it is definitely more apparent in this setting. I marvel how well people in Los Angeles gamble. they play their connections like cards, carefully wielding their best hand at the most opportune moment. Everyone, anywhere, likes to feel that they have some control over the people around them; they want power. I hate that people treat others like their meal ticket, their "in," their connection. I hate that unless you are privy to the exclusive, you can't be privy to the general populace. I hate feeling like that's how you make friends here. And even worse, I hate that despite all this 'hate', I am realizing that I am also one of these people. I can complain about this day-in and day-out, but that sad truth is is that, at least part of me, wants to be friends with "the cool kids" and be in the "in crowd."

Finally, I had a realization on Sunday. Oh, the Sunday realization. I think this comes every week now. It started a while ago. It wasn't anything more than an itch, a little bug bite, an annoyance that I swatted away from time to time. Over time, the fly got bigger, the bite stronger and the venom more toxic. Every Sunday evening, I toss and turn in my bed, struggling to come to grips with my life here. I wake up the next morning, barely rested, mind reeling, unable pull myself from under my sheets. At this age, the ripe old age of 22, it's becoming clearer to me that now is the time to pursue my dreams. Every day I need to take a proactive step towards one goal before I can achieve many. This leads to another realization about my life. One that requires a leap of faith. Per my usual neurosis, I am obsessing over something that is ultimately not in my control. Once again, I need to let go to get by. Once I voice my concern to the universe, and let things be, it will work out. And I can safely say that after 22 years, that doesn't get any easier.

Here's one more realization actually. That support system I always talk about. That oh-so-necessary foundation - I realized this weekend that I'm actually finding one. A new one. I will never be able to replace the people that have carried through life this far; that foursome from the formative years, my family from college and now, a shiny new set of roots. Roots that keep me aware and grounded and abreast of the reality of my life here. I am fortunate for this final realization. Without this last one, those others would most likely snowball into a nervous breakdown. So, with that I say: Thank you for being there and understanding and slapping me across the face when I act like an asshole, because anyone who knows me well enough knows that I need to be slapped now and again.