When I moved to LA, I feared that the monotony of the "perfect, sunny" disposition would wear on me. I feared the urge to run away to a new place would come. I have a hard time staying in one place for too long and I worried that yet another static element - the "California stasis" - would throw me over the edge into this familiar state or restlessness.
Well, after being here a year, I realize that LA, too, has seasons. They are subtle, but they are there. Last night, I felt something familiar. I walked into the apartment, every window open, my roommate sitting in his rolled-pants, listening to something easy and melodic. We sat on the roof and shared a beer. Later, I walked around the neighborhood and took stock of my surroundings as the last light finally flickered out from the sky.
As we sat on my stoop, I realized that this feeling of contentment was based on a memory. For the first time since moving to LA, I was recalling memories from last summer. Everything about Los Angeles the past year has been about experiencing something new. My first trip here, my first trip there, my first Christmas in Los Angeles, my first drive to the desert; the list goes on. But, for the first time, I feel like I could recall something that was completely mine. I wasn't experiencing something through someone else's filter or mind's eye.
I'm getting ready for the long warm nights of summer. Those nights that never end. California dreaming indeed.
The best part about the advance of summer is that I don't have the urge to run away. I feel happy sitting on my stoop for another summer, watching the days pass by. It has been a struggle my whole life to feel secure and grounded in one place for an extended period of time.
Sure, everything isn't easy and simple and carefree, but that California monotony which I feared so much, has turned into one of the saving graces of my life here.
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