Curtains

And now it is time to say farewell to Ye Olde Blog, my most trusted and constant companion on this journey of hardship and adventure.

At the nine month mark, I see only a few possible outcomes of my year in Los Angeles. Either the city system will come through for me with a librarian job (full or part time) before the end of October, when my name drops off their list, or the system I'm currently temping with will offer me a permanent position, either in my neighborhood or on the coast. If I'm offered one of the librarian jobs in the Malibu region, I will move to the coast and enjoy breathing the cleaner air.

Barring those possibilities working out, I will return to Austin, an idea I'm increasingly warming to only because it will enable me to scale back on my expenses. Maybe not to the extent of that kooky, forest-dwelling failed actor in "Grizzly Man," but perhaps to a level where I can feasibly work part time, if I find a roommate and give up my car or share it with someone.

I saw the movie "11th Hour" last night and agreed with the central premise, which is that "you can never have enough of the things you don't really want." Or as the song "Express Yourself" so eloquently puts it, "Some people have everything/ and other people don't/ but everything don't mean a thing if it ain't the thing you want."

Along that vein, I think the central issue of our time is the corporate takeover of the planet and subsequent ownership of our lives. The economic game is rigged such that you have to work full time just to survive (and in a lot of cases a full-time job won't even cut it). In order to compensate for the loss of control over your life and time and a lack of community outside of work, you begin to desire "things," which in turn demand even more of your time and money. You also begin to require an unusually exciting life outside of work to make sitting in a cubicle for 40 plus hours a week worth it.

I think when you are young and have hope and the comfort of being surrounded by a peer group in the same boat, you can sustain the illusion that trading your waking hours for money is worth it and will pay off in the end. When you get older, and friends fall away, and you start to age, and romantic relationships don't live up to the hype, reality sets in, the rose petals fall from the eyes, and the idea of trading your life for empty promises begins to grate. I tried a new city to see if things might be different, but my time in Los Angeles has only reinforced those beliefs. The entertainment industry is, indeed, for the young. If I return to Austin, my focus will be on putting all the good free stuff that is under my control back in my life- sleeping in, reading, hanging out, and afternoon naps! Health insurance be damned.

On that note, I am now taking my bow, leaving my fate a mystery. Please leave comments if you have 'em.

Dirty Money

I thought by leaving Texas I had escaped the oil industry. Au contraire. "Parts per Million" only makes a passing reference to an oil well next to the Beverly Center, so I did some googling and found this: http://explorer.altopix.com/map/4rf5zl/Beverly_Center_Mall.htm

I also came across an article called "Tracking Tar" in Orion Magazine (http://www.orionmagazine.org/index.php/articles/article/93/) that informed me that the lovely Farmer's Market where I buy my organic fruit is also the sight of several wells:

Washburn, who estimated that there were probably more than a hundred oil companies presently pumping in LA, told me of one local operation that consisted of a ninety-year-old woman who owned a couple of wells in her backyard that she had inherited from her husband, and which she still operated single-handedly.

“All the big companies are mostly out[side] of LA now, consolidating their operations,” Washburn told me. “The last significant onshore drilling in the basin around where you live was done in the ‘60s and ‘70s. The Beverly Hills field was being drilled then. The Salt Lake field, like others, was consolidated, most of the derricks taken down. What you do now is slant drilling from an existing well off at an angle to tap into new, usually deeper oil-bearing strata. That Farmers Market site has twenty wells operating there. It’s not got a lot of oil left, maybe twenty or thirty years’ worth, depending on the price.”

I was amazed at this, having walked nonchalantly through the gate at the Farmers Market site a couple of weeks before when driving around to locate wells near Park La Brea. I’d counted what I thought were a maximum of six wells, just humps of yellow pipes and valves set relatively low to the ground, before sticking my head in the manager’s office and starting to ask questions. I had startled the two men inside, who obviously weren’t expecting visitors and who politely but firmly noted I was trespassing and that I should contact the corporate offices if I had any questions. They gave me the phone number that led me to Washburn and his geologist, watched carefully as I left, then closed and locked the gate behind me. Another well-hunting trip the same week had led me to the Beverly Center, the behemoth mall located about a mile west of the La Brea Tar Pits. At the parking entrance facing Beverly Hills sat an active drilling rig, the only oil well I know of at a shopping mall.

And this:

In Los Angeles, petroleum is a widespread fact of nature underfoot, one of the primary reasons for the city’s existence, and the fuel that both allowed and necessitated the creation of a grid large enough to cover the basin, therefore determining the warp and weft of its urban fabric. Ironically, during the latter half of the last century as we assiduously cultivated environmental awareness, we mostly lost sight of oil in LA. The energy companies quite understandably did everything they could to camouflage their activities, reacting to our growing disdain for visible signs of industrial activity. Derricks were dismantled or covered up to resemble buildings—like the Breitburn rig on Pico and Genesse, which is camouflaged as an office building—and landscaping was installed around pumps to screen them from view.

And more relating to my neighborhood:

Petroleum, its byproducts, and associated elements are virtually omnipresent across the Los Angeles Basin, which even a glance at the map hanging in Hal Washburn’s office makes obvious. Natural gas, composed mostly of methane and ethane, is extremely flammable when not dispersed. At several points along my street in Park La Brea, white plastic pipes rise from the ground, climb up the two-story townhouses, and vent “wild” methane away from kitchen windows—ironic considering how much we pay for the “tame,” which is to say metered, gas we use in our stoves.

Methane is not something you want to spend much time breathing. Although it’s not rated by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) as a particularly hazardous toxin—apart from its extreme flammability—when combined with steam it yields carbon monoxide that in sufficient concentrations can suffocate you. Its toxicity is benign, however, when compared to hydrogen sulfide, which often accompanies natural gas and occurs naturally around oil fields. Also a product of organic decomposition, it gives off the classic “rotten egg” odor we associate with swamps, marshes, and the northwest corner of Hancock Park. If the stoplight at the intersection of Fairfax Avenue and Sixth Street is red, the odor accumulates quickly enough in the car to make you roll up the windows and switch the fan to recirculation mode.

Naming Names

In the interest of helping those seeking Fool's Gold behind me, I will now give a full accounting, in terms of company and agency names, of my job search in L.A.

Craigslist and other job boards: I must have applied to 70 plus job ads online. Never received so much as a single response (okay, one, but it was from an employment agency). Can't recommend this route, although my roommate occasionally receives responses for commission-based sales jobs.

Connections: I've passed along my resume to innumerable people. Have lost count. Netted one job offer that way, at Virgin. Resume was submitted by a friend for a job at Showtime, but I didn't get an interview.

Direct applications: Applied to the job listings on the Fox sight. No response. No luck at CBS either. Applied to the agent training program at William Morris. No response. So far have been rejected for openings at Los Angeles Public Library, but I don't know what the positions were (was accepted as a sub but now have to put that on hold).

Employment agencies: Despite the stress of working with employment agencies, I would not have worked a single day in L.A. without them, so my impression is that they are the only way to get your foot in the door. The downside is that your take home pay is minimal because they, of course, take a cut. My average range was $11-$15 an hour, with two outliers of $17 and $25. I signed up with the following agencies, and every one of them presented me with at least *one* decent job possibility (permanent or temporary):

General-- Star Personnel, Office Team, Jason Best
Entertainment-- Comar, Co-op (aka CTS), Friedman
Library-related: AIM, Library Associates

Those agencies brought me the following opportunities:

Temp jobs-- eight jobs. Still not comfortable naming where, but one was at UCLA, two were in advertising, one was for a trade show company, one at a clothing company, one at a tony private school, one at an investment company, and one at a real estate development company.

Also rans-- Was submitted for a job at CAA. Didn't get the interview. Interviewed at Crystal Cruises. Didn't get the job. Didn't get an interview to be a personal assistant to a "well-known songwriter."

Had to turn down the following temp jobs due to scheduling conflicts: Activision, Variety, Warner Records. Ironically, the most appealing ones.

Turned down: A position at the Director's Guild.

Agencies that did not respond to my application: Barrington (general), Elizabeth Rose (nannies/ personal assistants).

Agency that rejected my application: Ultimate Staffing (Fox).

Agency that responded but did not get me any work: The Help Company, a personal assistant placement agency in Santa Monica. Not so helpful after all.

An Existential Weekend

Got through the first couple of days at the library temp job, despite suffering insomnia again. It's your standard library gig, with the usual cast of characters amongst the staff (though thankfully everyone seems to get along well) and the patrons. The system is behind on a number of improvements, even quite behind the system I left in Austin, which had really suffered through some lean times.

I do feel like I've done this job before and that I didn't need to move across the country to do it again, but at least I'm getting my finances and professional life back on track, which is something, I suppose. There are also a couple of jobs within the system that I'd be interested in doing permanently that are in intriguing areas of town. Not sure what my chances are, but in the event that no permanent jobs have come through by December and nothing else is keeping me here, I will start making plans to move back to Austin. I just don't have the fight left in me, although it is my roommate's belief that I "haven't tried hard enough."

I'm also debating closing out the blog. It was started in a spirit of movement and change, and now that I'm back in maintenance mode, it may not have much of a point.

I'd like to catch 11th Hour this weekend, you know, just to cheer myself up. I also came across these appealing weekend activities in the August 17th LA Weekly:

Eastern Philosophy Book Group/ Santa Monica Public Library
You're tired, you work too much, you don't know where your life is going or why you're here. Try a little Eastern philosophy.

And--

From the Just-Trust-Us-and-Go Department: When lady comics Karen Kilgariff and Laura Milligan do anything together, you know it’s going to be clever and funny as all get-out (whatever the hell that means). These two always go the extra creative mile, and for The L.A. River Anthology, the pair is joined by Ed Crasnick, Jen Kirkman, Frank Conniff, Eddie Pepitone and others for a spoof of The Spoon River Anthology with a show-biz bent themed “Our Dreams Are Just Dead on the Inside.” You’re practically guaranteed up to eight laughs a minute, followed by a desire to kill yourself.

The Real O.C., Part II

I start work tomorrow and spent a good four hours (and about $18) today printing, photocopying, filling out, and faxing paperwork into the agency that got me the job. At least I'll have a break from all that for a few months.

I also had to fill out a state tax form for California. Ouch again.

I read the Los Angeles Times over lunch and came across an interesting article about pension problems and benefit cutbacks in O.C. entitled "O.C. supervisors raise current retirees' healthcare costs" by Christian Berthelsen. Some highlights:

Retirees decried the move as unfair, saying they spent decades as county workers with the promise of affordable medical coverage in retirement. It was the second time this month that supervisors agreed to reduce benefits of retired employees; two weeks ago, they voted to move forward with plans to roll back pensions for retired sheriff's deputies.

Overall, costs for active employees -- who are generally in better health and therefore better risks -- are expected to dip 18%, but rates for retirees are expected to increase 34%. Their rates will increase much more if they are members of health maintenance organizations such as Kaiser and Cigna. Of the county's 6,000 former employees, about 2,000 enrolled in those plans will see rate increases of between 72% and 95%, according to a county staff report.

For some, that could mean additional costs of as much as $7,000 a year -- with most of the county's retirees living on annual pensions of less than $25,000. One retiree, Norma Roberts of Costa Mesa, said her monthly out-of-pocket expense would increase from $286 to $783 under the new rates.

In Good Company

Came across an interesting article from London's the Daily Mail (www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?
in_article_id=447656&in_page_id=1770) with the following statistics:

The figures, from the Office of National
Statistics,showed that fewer than two-thirds
of women who reached 35 in 2005 had married
– 665 from every 1,000.

Among those born five years earlier, nearly
three-quarters,745 from every 1,000,
had been married by 35.

About nine out of ten women who were 35
in 1990 had been married at least once.

Regarding the speed of the change: 

Robert Whelan of the Civitas civic values
think-tank said: "This is an incredible collapse,
not just because of the extent but because of
the speed."

"If it goes on we will soon see a majority
of women unmarried in their mid-thirties."

 

Only the Best

My roommate is considering taking a job selling high-priced bottled water. That's right. Luxury water.

Next week my mother is visiting; this will be her first trip to Los Angeles. She's calling every day with big plans. We will be doing lunch at the Ivy.

Frankly, I thought both La Scala and Nobu were overrated. I do, however, love love love the Brazilian restaurant I ate lunch at today-- Pampas Grill in the Farmer's Market.

A River in Egypt

I finally received my library copy of "Parts per Million: The Poisoning of Beverly Hills High School" by Joy Horowitz and am using my final days of freedom to plow through it. In addition to giving a colorful portrait of the neighborhood next door, it reveals that the cover-up of the carcinogenic effects of the oil wells and power plant in the Beverly Hills High/ Century City area continues to this day.

This is worrisome. I don't live far from that area of town, and according to the extremely vague map found in the book, it appears that there are many more wells located in my neighborhood. Hopefully I'm not paying this exorbitant rent just to give myself thyroid cancer. That would be a bummer, especially in light of my third-rate health insurance plan. Maybe it really is time to cut out for Malibu!

I was reminded of the Todd Haynes film "Safe," in which Julianne Moore plays an affluent San Fernando Valley housewife who develops a severe reaction to toxins in her environment, such as the smell from her child's markers. While at the dry cleaner's during a visit from pesticide control, she suffers a seizure, and she then moves to a New Age compound in the desert. You don't know if she is really being poisoned or has gone batty from boredom.

After seeing the film, my friend and I would always report to one another when we were having a "Safe" moment, such as when stuck behind a dirty tailpipe in traffic (nothing sends me into a violent rage more).

Everywhere Signs

Someone told me that nobody within the city limits of Los Angeles is a Republican, but I know this to be false, because I have been on dates with a few. I was also told that there are no Jewish Republicans. What? Not true either.

I have, however, met at least a few more people here who are skeptical of the official 9/11 conspiracy theory. I also found out that some of my friends don't believe we landed on the moon, but I don't have time to even think about that one.

As I was driving home on Fairfax the other night, I saw one of the dreadlocked young guys from the Ed Asner panel walking along the street, holding up his "Question 9/11" sign for the passersby in traffic.

Officially Los Angeleno

I didn't even own a cell phone before moving to L.A., yet today I purchased a "hands-free cell phone kit for vehicle headrests." I feel like I need to take advantage of all the time spent in my car!

The Cut and Run

It's interesting that after less than a year in the Hollywood area I'm ready to cut and run for Malibu. Next I'll just sail out to sea.

It's like all my dates cutting their losses once they realize I may not be interested. Even when they come on strong, they are just GONE when things don't heat up quickly. Whatever happened to friendship, I ask you. I have managed to remain friends with only two of those guys.

On the other hand, what am I gonna do, throw a party for myself, three single female friends, and twenty-five of my former dates?

On Sunday I had a brunch date at Urth Cafe in Santa Monica, and we discussed how unlikely it is to run into people you know in Los Angeles. Afterwards, as we were walking to my car, this woman I met on Friday drove by and started honking and waving at us.

Back to the Salt Mines

I'm spending this week emotionally preparing myself for the return to work (well, at least for 90 days). During my first few months in Los Angeles I actually daydreamed about someone like Lindsey Lohan hitting me with her car, with the resulting minor injuries, quiet settlement, and prolonged economic feedom. Interestingly, I came across similar fantasies here:
http://utterlyboring.com/archives/2004/04/22/we_all_hate_work.php

At least those at the top have time to breed for the rest of us:
http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/2007/08/06/big_families/

I'm Not With the Band (Business)

Out of the blue today I was offered an "open-ended" position as an assistant at a major record label in Burbank. It starts tomorrow, natch, and pays $15 an hour. It certainly had its appeal, but I couldn't stomach the idea of alienating a library system, a library placement agency, and a neighbor I'm doing a short-term job for, all so that I could accept a position sight unseen. I asked the agency offering me the opportunity about the personal assistant job I was waiting on and was told that they placed a temp in it. I guess the adventurous life of a personal assistant is not meant to happen for me:
http://chaoscontrol.wordpress.com/2007/08/03/the-story-about-john/

If you can swing a year or two of working in LA for 27-35k, it does seem that there are cool Industry jobs to be had. Like I wrote before, I could have accepted a pay cut, but the timing and the job and the commute had to be right, and I never seemed to have all those factors in my favor! I was recently offered a $25 an hour temp job (my best rate yet) for a two-week assistant gig at a large video game company in Santa Monica, but it was two weeks that I couldn't do because of prior commitments.

A friend from Austin left me a message yesterday asking about finding roommates on Craigslist, and it reminded me of how precarious my move out here was, and how I just made it by the fingernail of my pinky. I'm ready for that precariousness to end...

The Art(lessness) of Conversation

One of my dates here told me that he often had to do all the work at keeping conversation afloat when he went out with women in L.A. After encountering other women here in social situations, I am starting to understand why I get asked out on second dates. It is indeed painful to carry on a conversation with some of the women I have met here (not all, of course). Here's a sample from the other night:

Me: So where did you move here from?
Dimwit girl: Maryland (silence, no elaboration, no return question)

And so on. Now imagine a whole evening of that. It's like a game of 20 Questions with me as the hostess.

When I first moved to town I was invited out for drinks with a group of women, and when I saw them a second time a few months later, I asked each of them how things were going with events they had mentioned from that first evening. Not one of them asked me a question in return!

The Austin/ Hollywood Connection

Went to a small music venue called Hotel Cafe in Hollywood last night. It felt like being back in Austin, crowded around a small stage in the back of a club. Minnie Driver, who is allegedly dating the son of my mother's good friend (it's a small soup we all swim in), was performing songs from her latest album "Seastories." She opened the set by mentioning a songwriting club she is in with "musician Bob Schneider from Austin, Texas," and my sense of familiarity was complete.

Or Maybe Not, Part II

On Wednesday I was offered the position at the headquarters of the megastore, so Thursday morning I visited the library in WeHo to meditate on my decision. After checking the place out, I decided that working in WeHo was indeed appealing (and that I needed a better salary) and turned down the megastore job offer.

Then yesterday I found out that the 90-day temp librarian position will not, in fact, automatically go permanent in WeHo and that the process of being considered for that position is similar to the process with the city. I have to interview to be placed on a list of contenders, and if I make that list I will go through two more interviews from there. This was unclear to me initially...

So, closing out my year in L.A., I am left with still more uncertainty. Ah, decent health coverage, will I ever see you again? On the positive side, I had a couple of other possible jobs in the works, and this leaves the door open for them. The library interviewers had also told me that there was a position open on Catalina Island, but I'm not ready to live on an island (but talk to me in a few years). There are positions open in Malibu, though, and I just might be willing to move out there.

Honestly, though, it would be nice if my renters in Austin were moving out in December so that I had the option of returning if I am still without a permanent job at that point.

Little Rumblings

I couldn't sleep last night and came downstairs for a snack around 1 a.m. I heard the pipes make a funny noise, and then my roommate came downstairs and asked if I'd felt the earthquake! I missed the whole thing, but we could hear the neighbors in the building next door panicking.

The Hipness Factor

Had an interview this morning for the assistant buyer position at the headquarters of the happenin' megastore. The position would be similar to the selection position I held as a librarian but with twice the hipness (bean bags, music playing all day, casual attire) at half the pay. Although to be fair, the buyers probably do fine. The store is launching a website soon so there could be some opportunity there, but I may be too tired and jaded to sieze it. The office is about the same walking distance from my place as the library in West Hollywood.

As far as the librarian position, things are moving along... I'll be getting fingerprinted soon. That job interview came through another agency, one that specializes in libraries.

Smote In The Eye, Part II

My roommate's career in balloon animals got stalled last week when one of the animals she was twisting burst and hit her in the eye. Apparently, this is a common hazard of the job.

Another celebrity sighting in Whole Foods yesterday: Mena Suvari sporting a shaved head.

As for me, no word yet on whether I scored an interview for the personal assistant job. I do, however, think I will likely receive a job offer for a temporary library position that could result in a permanent placement in the West Hollywood area, which is very close to my home. The job is with yet another library system in the area.

Got my fifth parking ticket today. Am now up to $250 in tickets. Am babysitting for my French neighbor tonight, which will help to recoup my losses.

Investing In My Future

Back at the real estate investment company today, where more madness ensued due to some unpaid phone bills. It's been two months since I left, but already I don't recognize half the people working there.

My roommate D. is currently in rehearsals with a children's troupe. She left a depressed message on my cell this afternoon, saying she was a thirtysomething single woman "making balloon animals for a living."

On a more positive note, the passing on of my resume last night actually yielded a job interview. Interesting book-related position for a happenin' megastore, but the pay, predictably, is low.

A Moment of Peace

Spent the bulk of today filling out paperwork in the company of prospective librarians who are as disgruntled with the hiring process as I have been. After speaking with them, I don't think there are all that many permanent jobs available, despite the "critical need."

I actually met a female friend out tonight instead of a date. We had a cup of tea in the relaxing Zen atmosphere of the Tea Garden on Melrose. That may be my last moment of peace for the next four days!

Her boyfriend showed up later and agreed with me that jobs pay surpisingly low wages in this city. He asked me to e-mail his his resume. I have lost count of the number of times I have passed that resume on.

Speaking of which, it has been submitted for the dream position, but there's no guarantee I'll get an interview. It's a personal assistant position, but no, it's not for Kathy G.

It's Getting Hot In Here

And I don't just mean in my apartment.

This week I accepted a temp job, have a babysitting gig for the weekend, am taking my medical exam to be a library sub, have an interview on Saturday and may have another one for a dream job coming up, and have five dates lined up. Be careful what you wish for and all that.

I Could Weep

Forgot to move my car for street cleaning this morning. $50 parking ticket. Ouch. I accepted a short-term temp job at my former place of employment (the real estate investment company) for the rest of this week as a form of penance.

A very interesting job opportunity appeared in my inbox this afternoon, however, and readers, I may finally have caught my break. More to come.

Half-Empty

The guy I met this weekend from New Orleans was very optimistic about the job market in L.A. He seemed to think of California as the land of opportunity. Like I said, I'm not so sure. I found another interesting response letter from that aforementioned Dear Cary column in Salon that does echo some of the postings in my blog. I will say that I have made no preparations for an earthquake!

Here's the letter from Debbie Downer:

Going West? Bring your bulging wallet

After 15 years in LA, I am so ready to get out of here. The blinding sunlight, every single day, is like living under a bare light bulb. It makes one long for rain, cold, anything different.

The constant fear of earthquakes mean never sleeping naked, keeping shoes under your bed, the water jugs in the car, the gas tank always mostly full- don't laugh, if you were in the Valley during the Northridge quake, you'd know. Checking for the location of the exits on every visit to the theatre.

The apartments that were 700 dollars three years ago are now 2000. First, last deposit- and buy a refrigerator, your place doesn't come with one. The competition for cans and bottles at the dumpsters isn't the homeless anymore. It's the people trying not to be homeless.

As a woman, would you like to know what your sell-by date is? Come out here. It's probably already passed. You just don't know it. You will once you get here, as people feel free to tell you. Men look over your size 6, yoga-buffed shoulder to see if something better/younger is available, and are surprised if you mind.

The film industry, a delightful cash cow for most of my career, is drying up and diversifying to online delivery. Jobs pay *half* what they did 10 years ago. Editing is seen as something anyone can do, and pays accordingly unless one is Union. Camera people are lumped in with amateurs as well. Film festivals are largely the poorly made products of this digital dreck.

The freeways, already legendary, now much worse.

The delightful melting pot of cultures has degenerated into mini-ethnic wars. Goods and services paid for by longtime taxpayers are seen as free stuff by more recent arrivals, who've exhausted the supply. Diapers left on the beaches. All the BBQ pits at the parks staked out by mid-morning. Rumors of million-dollar mansions with their owners on welfare and driving European cars, their kids going to college, for free.

Of all these things, the one thing that has finally broken my heart here is seeing the maverick retailers close their wonderful little boutiques, because the rents have gotten so high. All the trendy redeveloped areas now have the same stores. It's like being in a Fred Flintstone cartoon.

There's still the Coast Highway and there's still the amazing smell of LA at night from a seat at the Hollywood Bowl. But it's not enough for me, anymore.

--Anonymous

Cultural Experiences

Saw a documentary called "Girl 27" on Friday about the sordid cover-up of a sexual assault at MGM during the 30s. The filmmaker was in attendance for a "Q & A" afterwards, which is always a nice bonus.

On Saturday night I had drinks at a French restaurant with a guy from New Orleans who moved to L.A. in the aftermath of Katrina. Afterwards we went to a party in the Hollywood Hills that was similar to the other one I went to up there-- dreadlocks, hula hoops, and belly dancers. The house was directly beneath the Hollywood sign.

The New Orleans guy seems to have fortuitously stumbled into lucrative work in commercial production. He insisted it was easy to find such work and that I just hadn't "met the right people yet." After months of passing around my resume and "making connections," I'm much less optimistic. I'm pretty certain, in fact, that I'm going to be back behind a reference desk in about two months. I predict that my life here is going to be almost identical to my life in Austin-- working as a librarian again, going to the gym most days of the week, dating endlessly, and maintaining a patchwork of interesting friends around the city.

This morning I had coffee with a psychotherapist. He, of course, is working on several screenplays. We discussed the midlife crisis.

How Hard Can It Be?

Watched "My Life on the D-List" with Kathy Griffin tonight. She has an "assistant" and an "assistant to the assistant," and they tagged along with her for a funny bit on the street and then later accompanied her on a trip to Ireland. Nice work if you can get it. They both seemed really young, and the "assistant to the assistant" seemed particularly shy and inexperienced. Kathy Griffin, whom I love, referred to them as "the best friends money can buy."

I did feel somewhat bitter watching all this. I mean PLEASE. I can't believe I have been told by several agencies that they can't place me as an assistant because I "haven't been a personal assistant before." Geez, look at our President. Need I say more?

But timing is everything. By the time I meet that "right" person at a party, I won't want to be a personal assistant anymore. I had just thought it would be fun to do for my first year or two in L.A.

There's another good "Dear Cary" column today, this one about moving from the East to the West: salon.com/mwt/col/tenn/2007/07/27/east_coast_west_coast/

An anonymous letter writer to the column had this to say:

California is magical, and we natives know this, but listen carefully to the song "It never rains in Southern California" before you board that west-bound 747. Do not come here expecting to find yourself, a man, or anything else, because it is most likely that these dreams will be confronted by everyday realities: outrageous insurance, taxes, and real estate, cutthroat competition in all aspects of life, crime, smog, traffic, and flakes who promise to call you for lunch and never do.

Red and Blue and Strange and New

There are some amazing flowers in my neighborhood. Unbelievable colors and shapes. I sometimes feel like I'm walking through a Dr. Seuss book.

When I was in the Peace Corps we were given a timeline that showed the predictable course of culture shock that volunteers are likely to experience over the course of two years. I try to remember that line graph when I am feeling worn out by the newness of everything here. New places, jobs, people... really the only person I can say I know well at all at this point is my roommate.

This Town

I had a second interview for the extremely low-paying but entertainment (related) job on Monday. Liked the people but was hoping it would take a couple of weeks to hear back so I could give the library possibility some more time. Well, yesterday my agency called to say I was offered the job and for more money (although still in the low range of mid-thirties). The agency then gave me two hours to get back to them with a decision.

Given that my interviewers had stressed that they wanted a committed person, I had to turn it down. I just wasn’t sure that particular job (administrative work on union contracts) was worth the financial sacrifice, and I felt that I would need a couple more weeks on the job hunt before I could feel comfortable taking it. I had to endure the wrath of the employment agency, which was unpleasant, especially after I had made what I consider to be a measured decision and had endured a couple of less-then-ideal temp jobs for them. There won’t be any agencies left I want to work for pretty soon.

This town is getting small in more ways than one. I had a lunch date yesterday, and, as it turned out, that guy knew Mr. Grabby Hands. They both grew up in L.A., went to posh high schools, are around the same age, went to college in the area, etc. So perhaps L.A. can be a small place.

Yoga Freaks*

*not to be confused with "Goa Freaks," one of my favorite books

I've taken classes from some, ahem, interesting yoga teachers while living here, but my latest teacher takes the cake. Last week I thought he was handsome in a Luke Perry sort of way, but this evening he taught class wearing earrings, a shiny necklace, and makeup. He was also sporting baby-smooth legs and a lacy red thong under his shorts.

While waiting for class to begin, I picked up the L.A. Times and read a review of a book called "Parts per Million" about the possible link between numerous cancer cases and the nineteen oil wells at Beverly Hills High School. There's a plant at Century City and another forty wells "near Cedars-Sinai Medical Complex." I'm wondering if they mean the one that is located around the corner from me (there's another complex that is a little further west). If there are oil wells around here, then it's official, I am completely unobservant. The review is here:
http://www.calendarlive.com/books/la-bk-abcarian22jul22125320,0,5526634.story?coll
=cl-books-features

An Acquiring Mind

One of my (nicer) dates submitted my resume last week for an "acquisitions" position at one of the premium cable stations. The job would have been right up my alley (buying TV shows), but they received more than 100 applications, and several of those applicants had related experience in television. So, even with a connection, it's unlikely I will be interviewed. Too bad because it also would have been an easy commute!

My friend K. brought this article from the San Diego Tribune to my attention. The full article can be found on their website, but here is the short version:

Real estate, construction woes slow Calif. job growth to a crawl

By Dean Calbreath
STAFF WRITER

July 21, 2007

Hiring in California was hit by a bad case of June gloom last month as the effects of the real estate slowdown seeped into the job market, according to data released yesterday by the California Employment Development Department.

Statewide, employers added only 400 jobs in June, after adjusting for seasonal fluctuations, compared with a jump of 29,700 in June 2006. Sharp declines in home construction and financial activity – such as mortgage lending – put a crimp in last month's job growth.

San Diego County reported the slowest year-over-year job growth since January 1994, when the county was crawling out of a recession.

In the past year, local employers added 1,600 jobs to their payrolls – one-tenth of the growth rate from June 2005-06. If government jobs are taken out of the equation, the county has lost 1,500 jobs since June 2006.

“Things are looking pretty bad,” said Alan Gin, an economist at the University of San Diego. “It's conceivable in the next couple months that we might see negative job growth – a fall in jobs.”

Unemployment in San Diego jumped from 4.2 percent in May to 4.6 percent in June, just a fraction below the unadjusted national rate of 4.7 percent, but still well below California's unadjusted rate of 5.2 percent. It was San Diego's highest unemployment rate in two years.

Economists pinned the blame for slow job growth on the local housing market. In the past year, home sales declined 24 percent, meaning less work for mortgage and real estate brokers. And applications for residential-construction permits have declined in nine of the past 10 months, meaning less work for builders.

“It really is the real estate market that's causing this,” said Kelly Cunningham, an economist at the San Diego Institute for Policy Research. “Even though job growth in the visitors industry and the professional business sector is still positive, we're losing as many jobs as we are adding.”

For the past year, Cunningham and Gin have been predicting that San Diego would be able to survive the real estate slowdown without falling into a recession. Now they say they are not sure.

“If this trend keeps going on for the next couple months, it would suggest that we might have a recession before the end of the year,” Cunningham said. “Not a big recession, but a slight one.”

Cunningham added that if the number of real estate foreclosures begins to increase substantially – which he doesn't think will happen – a recession could be more severe.

For both the county and California, many of the job losses over the past year were involved in real estate.

Statewide, construction companies shed 5,300 workers last month, contributing to a loss of 12,000 jobs since June 2006. Financial activities – including mortgage and real estate brokerages – lost 5,700 jobs in June, or 7,000 from year to year.

Those job losses were countered by hiring at hotels and restaurants, educational and health services, and professional and business services, resulting in a net increase of 400 jobs.

Economists note that the total may be revised upward, which has happened several times in recent months. And they say it is impossible to judge the strength of the economy by a month's worth of hiring.

“Any one month is not worrisome,” said Steve Levy, who heads the Center for the Continuing Study of the California Economy in Palo Alto. “But if we kept losing jobs at this rate, it would be worrisome. For one thing, slower job growth could play havoc with the state budget next year and the year after, with fewer taxes coming in.”

Kei Matsuda, an economist for Union Bank of California, said some areas in the state are doing better than others.

“For annual job growth, Northern California is accelerating noticeably because of the tech comeback,” Matsuda said. “Tech-related consulting and research and development is very strong, which is why Silicon Valley and the San Francisco metropolitan area have been gaining jobs.”

On the other hand, San Diego, Los Angeles and the Central Valley are all slowing sharply, he said. Locally, the job growth rate slowed from 1.4 percent during the first half of 2006 to 0.6 percent during the first half of this year.

A Crazy Date

Went on a third date last night with the guy I ran into on the Yahoo! campus. After he became Mr. Grabby Hands in his penthouse apartment and I told him I wanted to leave, he completely flipped his lid. Lots of yelling and wild accusations, with the browbeating continuing all the way down the elevator and out onto the street. Armchair diagnosis: paranoia. I'm lucky I didn't end up like Lana Clarkson from the Phil Spector case.

I knew it would never work, as he's a Republican and his suggestion of a date movie was "Die Hard 4." Speaking of bad movies, there was a great slew of "letters to the editor" in Salon today about the reasons people don't go to the theaters anymore, with mentions of outrageous ticket prices and superior TV series. Included were compliments to L.A.'s Arclight, Austin's Alamo Drafthouse, and Grosse Pointe Blank. The letters can be found at the end of this article:
http://salon.com/ent/movies/review/2007/07/19/btm/

The Whole Tree Huggin' Business

Finished the "fashion industry" job today. I will never look at those organic cotton clothes in Whole Earth the same way again, now that I have painstakingly applied "distressed" tags bearing "leaves" to similar garments. I don't think I sat down for more than thirty minutes today, and I had to put in overtime as we raced to the deadline. Steaming, folding, labelling, tagging. The fabric requires such gentle care that I can't help but think the Revolution could use a little poly blend.

This job was second in strenuousness to the gig at the "New Age" school, located just up the road.

I will say that some interesting characters work there-- not your typical tree huggers. Or are they? There was an Alan Arkin lookalike in the back room, barking on the phone to someone about his luxury sports car when he wasn't giving me the sexy eye. His wife (or girlfriend) kept calling for help from this beleagured pregnant assistant who shuffled up every time she whined her name. A tattoed surfer guy also came in to do his thing. Once everyone had left, he cranked up the music (and perhaps did some smoking out back with his friend).

I had to cancel my Friday night plans due to exhaustion. Tomorrow I'm getting up early to babysit for a French woman who lives a couple of doors down from me. We met at my last temp job.

I did get confirmed as a library sub today, but I have to get a medical exam before they can use me. I'm actually excited about this as it's a free checkup. I also received a letter asking me to interview for some more library positions. Yep, the library looks better and better.

Fakin' It

The traffic was SO BAD driving home from Santa Monica that I gave up at Sawtelle, pulled over, and ate dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant. I then decided to finally visit a "pinkberry" yogurt place to see what all the fuss was about. Once I got over the slightly sour taste, I was enamored.

But now a lawsuit has been filed that pinkberry isn't really yogurt!

Factory Girl

My roommate auditioned for a game show gig today and kept me up last night asking for advice on outfits. Then I was woken up this morning with a call about a temp job in Santa Monica at a clothing manufacturer; the position involved helping one of the designers prepare for a trade show. Again, a stretch for "entertainment," but my agency did say this was an unusual job for them to place.

I agreed to take it and spent the day steaming and folding clothes and creating clothing labels. It was actually pretty taxing, and I go back again tomorrow.

Here's an odd story. Yesterday evening I had a drink with a date in Westwood, and while I was steaming the shirts this morning, he rang me on my cell. I couldn't pick it up when he called but figured I'd call him back over lunch. After several bungled attempts at finding a place to eat, I ended up in the Yahoo! courtyard, and just after I ordered something at the counter and was digging my cell phone out of my purse, I ran into him. Strange, as he doesn't even work at Yahoo! He was standing around with his friends, and it was awkward in a "high school cafeteria" type of way.

I told him I was stalking him (he looked like he believed me). We had lunch together. When I got back to work and told the designer what had happened, he responded that it was "just like a John Cusack movie."

Commitment

I wrote a friend over the weekend that I may be clinging emotionally to the escape hatch of Austin because I fear there really is no going back. I'm here and have to make it work.

Although I did some networking and signed up with a couple of new agencies while waiting on the library situation to pan out, I didn't take my job search all that seriously during those three months. Now I'm back on the stick. One of my dates over the weekend used to work for the #1 social networking website (you know the one), and he encouraged me to apply to all the "new media" companies in town, claiming that they are in hiring mode. Since Fox Interactive is right around the corner, I started with them. They do have a lot of jobs listed on their website, but then again, I had no luck trying to temp for them several months ago.

I also called in about my interest in interviewing for some jobs listed on one of my agency websites, only one of which is entertainment related.

My roommate D. is getting a bit panicky about finding work herself. She's applying for both acting jobs as well as rent-paying gigs. She actually gets responses from the Craigslist ads she applies to, which I find amazing and humbling. Not to paint too risque a picture, but we are both basically sitting around, scantily clad (due to the heat), typing furiously away at out laptops as we apply for jobs.

The Birds and The Lemons

There are hummingbirds in the flower bushes outside my front door these days, and I scooped up a large lemon that had fallen from a tree while walking home last week. Yet despite the fragrant atmosphere and all the increasingly interesting dates, my switch has yet to be flipped. I haven't had a bona fide crush since moving to L.A.

I do, however, have allergies (or a head cold), and I spent almost all of yesterday in bed reading "The Post-Birthday World" by Lionel Shriver. The protagonist in the novel is a woman in her early forties who is in a comfortable if plodding relationship but is tempted to abandon her ten-year partnership for a romance with a dashing but flighty snooker player. Alternating chapters follow the outcomes of staying or leaving, detailing the excitement along with the incredible tumult and stress that results from her choosing the snooker player but also demonstrating with the opposing storyline that there are no truly "safe" decisions. I related to the narrator's romantic conundrums but also drew parallels with my decision to leave Austin for L.A.

Not Yet the One

Went to a new, crowded, trendy club on Sunset last night called One. Loud music and lots of bare shoulders, highlighted hair, sparkling makeup, and pricey drinks. Same as a number of trendy clubs in Austin, the types I rarely frequented. I'm glad I got out, but it wasn't a conducive atmosphere for striking up conversation with people I barely know.

Earlier in the day I received a letter from the library stating I didn't receive a job offer from my interview. I believe this is because I knocked myself out of the running by stating job preferences that didn't match up to what they had on offer (I think mainly children's and teen service positions, although I was never told what actual jobs were available and at what locations). I could have saved myself some time and grief if they weren't so cryptic about what was on offer.

So back to Square One. Ugh. I registered with two local library employment agencies this morning and put my hat in the ring for some part-time, temporary positions that are a fairly significant commute from where I live. I figure maybe I can do the commute part-time. I'm still on the temp list for the two entertainment agencies, and I recontacted one of my former generic agencies and said I'd be interested in permanent work again if it paid a certain amount. I'm also in the running for library sub positions with the system that just interviewed me.

My job search has become totally schizo. I have three dates lined up this weekend, and I don't know how I am going to answer questions about what the heck I'm doing here.

Red Room

Last night I watched a test preview of a documentary in the red screening room at Endeavor, the real-life "Ari Gold" agency.

I was invited by my friend Y., who is in town from Austin, and while sitting next to him during the viewing, I kept thinking I was back there. When the lights came up, and I remembered I was in Los Angeles, surrounded by strangers I was supposed to be schmoozing with, I felt disoriented.

The Trap

My replacement at work is in her early twenties and used to work at E! Entertainment Television. I had to goad her about all the lame E! True Hollywood Stories about TV shows (what happened to the sex and drug scandals?) and the dumb "news coverage" of magazine covers. Even their "juicy" stories these days are nothing but regurgitated retreads from the other networks, and don't even get me started on all the reruns of SNL episodes that weren't funny the first time around.

Two words: litigious celebrities. I tell you, you can't even get good trash anymore.

I asked her if it was true that salaries were really low there, and she concurred. She had to work two jobs on the side just to make ends meet, but she said that all her friends in the entertainment industry were in the same boat, just barely paying their bills.

She also said that even though she wasn't consciously worried about starting a new job today, she couldn't sleep at all last night. I said, "Welcome to my world."

Astra Taylor of Salon reviewed an interesting-sounding book today called "The Trap" by Daniel Brook. An excerpt from the review:

After reading "The Trap," I'd wager the future we're facing overflows with anxiety and self-loathing. When a generation reared to revere the idea of a meritocracy finds that a college degree -- even one with honors from an Ivy -- doesn't guarantee middle-class comfort, let alone career fulfillment, cognitive dissonance ensues. Parents blame their offspring for failing to succeed (they gave them every advantage, after all), the offspring blame themselves (they jumped through all the right hoops), and few blame the system. As the competition to join or stay middle-class becomes fiercer, solidarity disappears and the barriers to membership in this insecure and apprehensive class grow higher. According to the New York Times, 2007 was the "most selective spring in modern memory at America's elite schools." You can bet that next year another record will be set.

After attending the 9/11 panel last night, I would have to agree that the activist community is tending toward the senior citizen set. In reference to the smaller number of young participants:

Public service and penury, Brook demonstrates, too often go hand in hand. As a result, "the activist community has become an assemblage of idealistic young people taking a few years off before professional school or a corporate job, a handful of liberal trustfunders, and a slew of eccentric nonconformists.

Tyrannies

Went to an art show at the Jeff Electric Gallery in Silver Lake this afternoon that was a photographic exhibit of 100 couples. Details here: http://www.day19.com/text/?p=128

It was really interesting that, in a lot of cases, the couples looked like each other (or maybe that was an illusion). But, even in Bohoville, the show made me feel the tyranny of coupledom, as if we are all supposed to match up, like in that children's game where you turn over two squares at a time, looking for the identical pair. It didn't help that the other onlookers were all in couples.

Oddly, an ex-boyfriend rang me on my cell while I was at the gallery. Later that afternoon, I met a date for coffee in an attempt to find my matching square.

But enough about the trivialities of my love life. This evening I attended a 9/11 Truth panel with Ed Asner. What, you might ask, do alternative 9/11 theories have to do with a blog about a single, thirtysomething woman uprooting her life and moving to Los Angeles? Well, maybe 9/11 isn't related to the fact that I have subpar health insurance and poorly-paying job prospects and am under the thumb of the nefarious temp agencies, of which there have been no books written about. I will let you draw your own conclusions, but this website is worth a look:
http://www.patriotsquestion911.com/

Rock, Hard Place

Drove to Santa Monica for a tennis date with a guy who grew up in Houston and was (surprise, surprise) an RTF major at UT. Afterwards I had dinner with another good friend from Austin who is out here scouting work because, according to him, the entertainment market in Austin has run dry.

Our conversation definitely gave me pause regarding moving back. A couple more acquintances have moved from Austin since I left, and the last remnants of the old gang seem to have dissolved.

Moore Please

I got called by my current agency on Friday about temping as an assistant at a well-known Industry rag that is located very close to where I live, and the job actually paid a whole $15 an hour! But I had to say no because I'm supposed to go in on Monday to train the new hire at my current gig, and I have that job interview on Tuesday.

I walked over to the Grove last night to see Sicko. The ticket cost $12.50, so I had to sneak into a second film afterwards to maximize the expenditure (but I'm glad I applied my ticket to Sicko's box office). In any case, Sicko was very good, but, of course, depressing. I can certainly relate right now, as I'm paying a monthly bill for what amounts to catastrophic health insurance and have had to ignore two or three health issues that I would have seen a doctor for in the past. And I'm grinding my teeth like the 9/11 rescue worker in the film.

Moore is right that we are handcuffed to jobs by the need for health insurance. It's amazing that if I lived in Europe or Canada, I could just waltz into a doctor's office for free.

Obviously I should have moved to France, but they wouldn't have let me stay...

Peachy

I stumbled across a discarded section of today's L.A. newspaper at the gym and found out that the first Bush/Cheney impeachment center has opened up around the corner from where I live. The story is here:
www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-impeach5jul05,0,3983892.story?coll
=la-home-center

Maybe it's a sign that I should get to stuffing some envelopes.

The Financial Review

I've spent a happy 4th this morning "running the numbers." I've decided the decision deadline on "should I stay or should I go" is November 1st. I don't want to keep temping full-time until then, but it would definitely help if I could find a long-term, part-time temp gig that would allow me to be available for interviews or for subbing at the library.

If I still haven't found a good job by November, I'll have to decide if I like L.A. enough to keep looking for jobs and/or waiting on the library, knowing if I take a position after that point I'll be committing to at least a second year of living here. My car insurance payment will be coming up in January, and it'll cost me twice as much if I stay on. My condo won't be available until June 1st, so I'd have to move back home to Houston or in with a roommate in Austin if I do leave. It should be easy to find someone to drive back with me around Thanksgiving if I decide to head back.

In the meantime I'm going to get back out there socially, which equates to more dating, as there doesn't seem to be a whole lot else going on here at this age, and I've done the research.

On Tuesday I have an interview with an association related to the entertainment industry that could be considered a prestigious place to work, although it might be on the senior citizen side. The job as initially described to me sounded like event planning, but in actuality it's formatting contracts, and it only pays in the high 20s. The workplace will have to seem like a barrel of laughs for me to be interested.

I looked back over my temping jobs, and yes indeed, anything that could even remotely fall under the entertainment umbrella paid the lowest temp wages, about $11 an hour. I did get called last week about a temp receptionist position paying $16 an hour at a news studio in Santa Monica (another "entertainment" position), but I was already in a temp job, and frankly that offer wasn't that appealing either. I don't mind starting at the bottom rung, but it needs to be on a ladder I want to climb! The Big Important Talent Agency job that was floated by me so many months ago only paid in the high 20s, but it was in the story department (up my alley), was a short commute, and the contacts would have been invaluable. The cruiseline job paid similarly low at 30k, but it seemed fun, and I got a free cruise! But those jobs didn't come through.

I've also checked out some other library systems in L.A. and no dice as far as openings.

Nights Spent Crying Into Pillow, Part II

It turns out that the question in my interview about part-time jobs was hypothetical, as in, if a part-time reference job came open in the future, would you be interested. I thought my three-month journey through the library interview process was finally coming to fruition, but it appears that I may have to wait for future adult services jobs to open up and interview again for those. Needless to say, I spent a weepy night and day over this. I was so looking forward to getting off the temp bus!

I do have an interview coming up to be a library sub, but I don't know how often that need arises within a reasonable commuting distance, and I don't seem to handle the waiting game very well.

I wrote one of my old placement agencies today (not in entertainment) and told them I would like to interview for any permanent positions that paid at least 45-55k and were located in my area of the city. I've become unable to stomach the idea of working full-time for 35k or less. In a city this expensive, it's positively Dickensian to pay those kinds of wages.

I can't take the low-paying temp gigs much longer either.

I am now setting a deadline for a decent job coming through for me here before I bail back to Texas. It's looking like September. Honestly, I could lie around on the couch at mom's, collect rent on my condo in Austin, and end up in the exact same financial position as working at a full-time, low-paying job in L.A. that barely covers the bills. Not a pretty picture for a 37-year-old, but economically it's entirely logical.

Swamp Thing, Part II

It still hasn't been quite hot enough at night to try out the swamp cooler, but at 85 degrees, this weekend is getting close.

I stayed home last night (Friday), did three loads of laundry, talked more with my roommate about our current state of directionlessness, and read a Jungian psychology book called "Swamplands of the Soul: New Life in Dismal Places" by James Hollis.

I particularly liked this passage on page 72:

Thus we are forced into a difficult choice-- anxiety or depression. If we move forward, as our soul insists, we may be flooded by anxiety. If we do not move forward, we will suffer the depression, the pressing down of the soul's purpose. In such a difficult choice one must choose anxiety, for anxiety at least is a path of potential growth; depression is a stagnation and defeat of life.

Part-Time Lover of Life

The library system I interviewed with yesterday conducts interviews every six months with different configurations of jobs each time. This time around, if I want to work in adult services (and I don't think I want to revisit children's librarianship), I will most likely be offered something part-time.

I was really looking forward to building my bank account back up and being able to go to the doctor again, but at the same time, a part-time job sounds dreamy, especially now that I'm feeling old and cranky. My fear is that I wouldn't ever want to go back to full-time work! I would have to give up my car to work part-time indefinitely.

I could possibly supplement the job by picking up extra hours at the library or finding some interesting side work. It could be an ideal situation. At least I could rest easy that my basic bills would get paid.

If they don't offer me anything, I may be back to working full time in an office for what amounts to little more than a part time salary. That'll be depressing.

One of the women at the design company where I'm working temped around for years while trying to become an actress. She would run to auditions during her lunch hour but said the traffic in L.A. would no longer allow for that. She had resisted working in an office most of her life and turned down all the offers she received while temping, but she now runs this office with her partner, who owns the business.

They just hired another woman who is originally from France. She stayed home for three years with her baby and loved it. She said she doesn't understand women who complain about being home with the kids, as she read books while the baby slept and met friends every day for lunch. Sounds nice...

Back to the Books II

The East Hollywood badminton party on Saturday was indeed fun (although I didn't play long enough to put that in all caps), but my second round of dancing at the Derby on Sunday was a bust. As in Austin, the young, good lindy hoppers took over the floor, and although I do enjoy watching good dancing, I don't like spending the bulk of the evening as an audience member.

Tonight was my college alumni dinner, which involved a large, scrumptious spread of free food and some interesting conversation, so I'm glad I went. Yet there were only six of us there (a political writer, a reality show producer, an aspiring actress/ feng shui practitioner, a woodworker, a documentary filmmaker, and me), and somehow I doubt I will be seeing anyone again outside of alumni events.

My library interview is tomorrow. My current place of temporary employment has begun making noises about keeping me on as a permanent employee, but once again, I don't think the place is for me. Finding the ideal job is as difficult as finding the ideal boyfriend. It's hard to find interesting social interaction, intellectual stimulation, decent pay, reasonable hours, a nice boss, and a short commute in the same place!

All in all, going back to my original career is seeming like the best bet. I spoke on the phone this weekend with a friend of mine who recently thought she had quit teaching for good. She was feeling a lot of relief over never having to grade another paper again. After exploring other careers, though, she is back teaching and said, "I guess that's what I am, a teacher." Well said.

It's occuring to me that I am recreating my same general lifestyle (and corresponding discontents) in L.A. As they say, wherever you go, there you are. And I might add, there "they" are (the same problems).

I read over a blog today, written by a friend of a friend, about a similarly life-changing, restless move from Seattle to Asheville (which sounds like Austin forty or so years ago):

http://hightechsurvivor.blogspot.com

fun vs. FUN

I was thinking the other day that while I've had "fun" here, I've yet to have FUN. Busting a gut kind of fun.

That may be about to change though as I'm going to a badminton party this weekend. Badminton is FUN. Especially drunken party badminton.

Shout out...

...to my librarian friend C., who corrects my grammar and spelling mistakes so that I can get that book deal!

She let me know several posts back that it is "craft services" not "Kraft services." I had always wondered why people on the set had to eat crappy Kraft foods like Velveeta cheese.

Although, really, "craft" services is a bit pretentious.

More Sleepless Nights

I started my new gig today after enduring another night of insomnia. Those sleepless nights before starting a new job are becoming the lowest points of my life. Really, they are just the worst.

The job itself is fine. Very close to where I live and near lots of nice restaurants that are more affordable than the ones I frequented while working in Hollywood. It's a very small office though, and they specialize in gay and lesbian marketing. No crush potential for moi.

Los Angeles, the "New" New York

From another LA Weekly Article, this one about Michael Govan's attempts to build up the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (laweekly.com/general/features/the-encyclopedic-city/16642/?page=3):

It’s not so easy here.
It’s not so easy here.

Why is that?
I don’t know. In New York, they’ll tell me, “Oh, L.A. can never be a New York and can never be a great cultural capital because it’s not like New York and it’s all spread out.” How many times do you hear that?

Once a day.
Once a day. Well, as far as I can see, cities have often changed their compositions over many ancient centuries to the present. And there’s always been culture and great cities, and it’s taken different forms depending on the kind of shape the city took. So let’s say all the future cities look like L.A. New York looks like Europe, but [what] was the last city you saw that was like New York? Shanghai, Beijing, Mexico City, Seoul — they all look like L.A. And so there’s going to be a different model. We’re just going to be part of that.

Rats!

The first article in today's LA Weekly is by a woman who moved here from New York and was happy to be living a rat-free lifestyle until...

Let's just say her story is remarkably similar to mine, down to the roommate on vacation and the late night trip to the kitchen:

laweekly.com/general/a-considerable-town/rats-i-say/16661/

Casting About

Caught a documentary called "Casting About" at Laemmle's Music Hall in Beverly Hills last night. It's basically a montage of actresses auditioning for a particular film.

I thought the protagonist of "Hollywood Dreams" seemed particularly needy and cloying, but perhaps not. The nervous desperation of the actresses in this film set my teeth on edge. I felt like I was watching the most nerve wracking bits of a job interview over and over.

I'm glad I don't want to be an actress, but I still think, despite its bad rap, that casting could be an interesting career.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Visited my seventh placement agency (third in entertainment) since moving to Los Angeles today. Took all the computer tests again-- Word, Excel, typing. The Excel test was actually quite difficult, and I had to struggle through it during what has become my afternoon naptime.

I was sent home with a temp assignment that starts tomorrow and lasts a couple of weeks. Front desk at another advertising agency (ad agencies falling under the entertainment umbrella), but this one is in my neighborhood, and I'm thankful for that.

I was told again that asking for a minimum starting salary in the mid-thirties is a bit much for entertainment. So crazy. The agent I spoke with, who was very nice, floated an interesting job possibility by me, but it only pays in the high 20s. The 20s!

Sugar Babies

I've had to become comfortable with men treating me to nice dates here; there was a lot more "going dutch" in Austin. Partly this difference is due to the seriousness of both careers and dating here, partly it's because I've been too poor to protest much, and partly it's due, no doubt, to the fact that I have yet to date any aspiring actors. I do feel bad that I can't reciprocate with much of anything right now, since I'm not in a position to throw parties or gather friends together like I was in Austin.

Several of my L.A. friends have, in the past, received substantial sums from former dalliances to cover living expenses, so I guess I shouldn't feel that guilty about a drink or dinner.

Ahead of the Curve

My friend from Austin who recently visited thinks I'm too young, at 37, to be having a midlife crisis. I say, I was always ahead of the curve.

I found another interesting midlife piece today called "Mid-Life Crisis: It's Not Just for Men Anymore" by Laura Young, Blogcritics Magazine 7/22/05. Despite my financial losses, I did take a year to mull over this move, and think I took more of a risk than a gamble:

The fact that many people at mid-life have accumulated the skills, financial cushion and talent to make true consideration of career and lifestyle changes possible is exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. The trickiest part for both the men and the women that I have spoken with appears to be in making the distinction between a "risk" and a "gamble."

Simply stated, a risk is calculated. You know you could lose, but you are able to take an educated guess as to what is at stake and how the loss could impact you. Having a "worst case scenario" in mind helps you to know what kind of safety net needs to be in place in order to make a mid-life transition possible. Analysis of the situation with a confidante or coach also helps an individual differentiate between psychological "heebie jeebies" and rational fears that need to be taken into consideration. Very difficult questions are faced directly and no actions are taken until careful consideration of the answers.

Despite all my past experience and giving it a pretty good go, it looks like the entertainment industry doesn't have use for me, but I am heartened, also, by this (from CareerJournal.com, "Midlife Crisis Becomes an Issue for More Women, by Sue Shellenberger):

Without exception, the women who made big midlife changes said that if given the chance to do it all again, they would embrace new undertakings even more wholeheartedly. Every one of the women who entered fully into midlife crisis, taking risks and exploring new opportunities, was enthusiastically glad that she had. Their only regrets were in failing to start sooner or to take more chances.

The Little People

Shopped again today, this time at a store called "It's A Wrap" on South Robertson that resales clothes formerly owned by the studios. Some of the racks have signs designating what sitcom or soap opera they originated from.

Unfortunately, 90% of the clothing is "extra small" or "small" due to the tiny stature of showbiz folks. I only bought two items; I'd like to thank the little people for that. My roommate has put on 10 pounds, is now a size 2, and frets that her acting career is over as a result.

Still haven't heard from entertainment placement agency #1 but interview with #2 tomorrow. The library interview is next week. The clock is ticking, and I believe the writing is on the wall. I am assuming that in a couple of weeks I'll be back in the book stacks.

From the article "It's A Living: Unless you're in the Industry, that is" by Mark Lacter, Los Angeles Magazine, June 2007:

"A lot of people willing to go for it have something to fall back on," says Jaime Waugh... She's shopping a novel and a screenplay but also has a 30-hour-a-week day job as a researcher for the Los Angeles Unified School District... For many the trick is to find something that at least has a creative slant-- publishing, design, teaching... Waugh.... has these words of wisdom: "You're not choosing a career, you're choosing a lifestyle."

So, I could look at librianship as my creative fall back position, which would allow me to, what? I guess keep up my blog. I smell book deal!

Take That!

There's a great article about perceptions of Los Angeles, "Listen to the Locust" by John Powers, in the July 2007 edition of Los Angeles magazine. It can be found online at www.lamag.com.

Two paragraphs stood out:

Now, one understands the temptation to explain Los Angeles metaphorically, even mythically. It’s fun to think of cities as being larger than life. L.A.’s sheer vastness beggars our attempts to know it. Too huge and various for anyone to master, it has the elusiveness of modern experience itself. Indeed, Los Angeles embodies trends many people find most unsettling about contemporary life: the endless influx of people, the decentered sprawl that resists hierarchy, the ceaseless change instead of enduring memory (Bobby Kennedy was shot where?), the preference for pop culture over high culture (although Disney Hall straddles the two), and the obsession with self-definition.

and-

The very things that make this majority-minority city messier and more demotic also make it more interesting than ever. But don’t take my word for it. Ask Werner Herzog, the crazy-ass German filmmaker best known for Fitzcarraldo and Grizzly Man, who has spent a long, globe-trotting career in search of newness, epiphany, great ecstasy. He now lives here, and accepting an award from the Los Angeles Film Critics Association last year, Herzog startled the crowd by calling this “the city with the most cultural substance in the United States.”

Spending Money I'm Not Making

There's a great flea market on Sundays at the corner of Melrose and Fairfax. Lots of good used furniture to be had as well as funky pictures, clothes, and jewelry. Stopped by yesterday afternoon on my way to Runyon and scooped up several necklaces.

I need a paycheck soon...

A Haven from Traffic

A friend was in town from Austin with her family this past weekend, and on Friday afternoon at 2 p.m. I drove to West L.A. to pick her up. I learned a new lesson-- Friday afternoon traffic to the coast is best avoided. Oy vey! It took me an hour to drive about seven miles.

Once I picked her up we made a stop at The Lake Shrine at Sunset and PCH; it's a picturesque Hindu oasis tucked away from view at that intersection. From there we drove to Topanga Canyon (again, slowly) and caught up on things while we hiked.

Dancing at the Derby

I've decided to make use of this unintended summer vacation and try all the things I have previously been unable to do. To that end, I drove across town to Los Feliz tonight to check out the Sunday night swing dance (with live music) at The Derby.

Several people told me the crowd was thinner than usual, but it seemed substantial to me. The age range was older than what I was used to in Austin, with a significant number of dancers over the age of forty. The twenty and thirtysomethings seemed to become the majority after 11 p.m., but even then it was a pretty mixed crowd. Another difference from the Austin scene was that most of the women were wearing dresses and many of the men had on suits and ties. Several fedoras were in attendance.

The dancers were friendly (and good); I danced several times and as a bonus met a sweet Italian guy.

It felt really nice to participate in a social scene; I have been feeling so atomized here. The week after next I'm attending a college alumni event at The Grove, which I'm looking forward to for the same reason.

Waking from Oblivion

I saw Mark Wahlberg in a Ralph's grocery Sunday afternoon. He was wearing sunglasses while shopping for groceries.

Waiting Games

The entertainment placement agency didn't call with any temp jobs this week, and just as I was about to contact a prior agency for some generic office work, I received an e-mail from yet another entertainment agency (which also places personal assistants) about scheduling an interview. I had contacted them upon first arriving in L.A. and never heard back and then sent them another resume at the end of May.

So now I have an interview with that place next Wednesday and my second interview with the library system the following week. In the meantime I have decided to forego the generic temp work I have been doing and put my faith in either an entertainment job (temporary or permanent) or a library job working out.

I recently saw an ad on one of the entertainment sites for a job that listed the hours as 8-6. I know most of those positions require overtime, but it's ballsy that they would list the official hours as forty-five per week.

My roommate is also out of work at the moment and so we are both doing the "ladies of leisure" routine around the apartment.

During this downtime I caught another L.A.-themed movie on HBO called "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" with that little scamp Robert Downey, Jr. It wasn't great, but it was entertaining, which is more than I can say for "Ocean's Thirteen."

I did also make it to the beach at Point Dume for some sun and surf; of course, there was a film crew set up on the beach.

Last night I went to see the Upright Citizens Brigade, a comedy/improv troupe, on a block of Franklin Street in Hollywood that I hadn't visited before. In addition to the UCB Theatre, there's a used bookstore and a couple of cool restaurants along there, and across the street, oddly, is the Scientology Celebrity Center. The show was only $5, with no valet parking or required meals tacked on, but then, you get what you pay for. It was amusing enough, but the performers (and crowd) were very young and obviously using UCB as a training ground.

Good Old Garrison

Garrison Keillor weighs in on L.A.:

http://www.salon.com/opinion/feature/2007/06/13/keillor/index.html

Deja Vu

Went to a party in the Hollywood Hills on Saturday with my friend A. It was a "Burning Man" crowd-- hula hoops, tarot cards, dreads. I felt like I was back in Austin.

I enjoyed having the last two weeks off but am now back in limbo, with that Sopranos finale intensifying my sense of drift. My interview with the library won't be scheduled until after the 25th, and I haven't heard anything back from the new entertainment temp agency yet.

I did drive up to Burbank yesterday to check out a digital media company where one of the men I've been on some dates with works. There are only three such companies in the U.S., and this one is the largest. I don't have a grasp on everything they do, but in a nutshell, well, they digitize media. One aspect of that is the restoration of film; I saw someone working on a film in which a young Scott Baio played a Little Leaguer. All that time, effort, and equipment, so a preteen Scott Baio can be restored for our viewing pleasure. Yet it was an impressive place.

The drive up there took me around 35-45 minutes, but then I wasn't driving during rush hour. Burbank isn't on the same walkable, human scale as where I live; it's the land of office parks.

I'm driving out to Point Dume today in Malibu to go swimming. I believe that's Planet of the Apes territory.

Dating on Location

There was a film crew shooting at Greystone Park yesterday when I met my date. We then went hiking in Franklin Canyon, and a woman wearing nothing but a scanty blouse was participating in a photo shoot at the entrance to the hiking trail. Only in L.A.

I was actually asked out on a date in the frozen food section of Whole Foods this morning, but I can't fit in another prospect at the moment. This guy said he was a "producer," but he seemed like a nice person.

I now think that Vogue (or was it Elle?)article about dating in L.A. had some truth in it. I seem to have hit a vein of very nice, smart, successful, late thirties/ early forties men looking for serious relationships. They all seem very sincere and are not the "player" types that one associates with Los Angeles. I don't think they've had an easy time on the dating scene here.

A Walk in The Park

I had a crazy easy interview with another entertainment temp agency this morning. I didn't even have to take their computer tests. It was just, "Oh, you seem like a great candidate, we'll get you out there to assist some top people." There's also some bad blood between them and another agency that put me through the ringer when I first moved to L.A.

As with my parking sticker, I may have suffered for nothing for the past five months. Although now the city has screwed up the parking records and denied my roommate a new sticker because I have one.

After the interview I met a date in the grounds of Greystone Mansion and Park in Beverly Hills. Very peaceful spot in the middle of the city.

Fun Jobs and Other Fairy Tales

I had lunch today with a very nice friend of a friend who works at CBS (walking distance!). He told me to look at their job listings and let him know what I might be interested in. I picked out a librarian job but am not sure I have the right technical background for it. I also chose an administrative assistant position in casting. Sounded interesting and fun! He then warned me, as did my roommate, that casting is the most grueling job in all of Babylon.

If I'm going to make a career change into entertainment, it's now or never, because I'm already so much more tired and cranky then I used to be. I don't know how much job stress I can take.

Living In Oblivion

My roommate had breakfast at a place around the corner a few weeks ago and saw Tim Allen there. She went again on Sunday and spotted Salma Hayak.

I'm sorry, readers, but I'm an oblivious person. I probably pass celebrities all the time and fail to notice them. The last famous person I spotted was the female love interest on the BBC version of "The Office" shopping at Whole Foods.

That's Entertainment

I'm pursuing some entertainment industry leads this week as I wait to hear more from the library. Tried another personal assistant agency on Sunset, but I had to ring a buzzer to get through the locked front door, and then the receptionist would barely give me the time of day. I have an interview on Wednesday with another entertainment temp agency; I'm thinking the best idea is for me to temp in the industry and build some connections during this waiting period. I also have a lunch date planned with an acquintance at CBS.

Coincidentally, I have three dates lined up this week with men who work in the industry. Those "creatives" are definitely my type... for better or worse.

I also caught up with my friend A., who had free passes to a screening of "Ocean's Thirteen" last night. I haven't seen A. in weeks and weeks. It's nice to finally have some free time to catch up with people! But now I know why it's been years since I've been to a theater to see a mainstream film. Pointless, unfunny, lazy,cliched, smug, boring... might as well have been watching paint dry. Of course, the theater was packed and everyone was laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves, proving that I am out of touch with 95% of humanity! I think there were about three other people in attendance for "Hollywood Dreams," which I, of course, was thoroughly engaged by.

Smote In The Eye

I woke up this morning with a scratchy feeling in my left eye. I have very poor health insurance at the moment, so every minor injury looms large. I bit the bullet and (finally) found a good clinic on Sepulveda at Olympic that is open on Saturdays. The doctor theorized that I might have had microscopic particles of sand under my eyelid that were scratching the surface each time I blinked. A Laguna Beach souvenir, if you will.

The only other thing I did today was see Henry Jaglom's "Hollywood Dreams." I confess that I'm a Jaglom fan from way back. The lead character, an aspiring actress, was incredibly needy and neurotic. Oy vey! She made me feel like a stoic.

The movie had me reflecting on my love/ hate relationship with this city. I'll be feeling happy to be here when BAM! all of a sudden I will feel repelled by the place.

While at the movie I saw a preview for an intriguing movie called "Broken English" starring Parker Posey. Burnout, bad dates, sleeping pills! What's not to like:
http://www.cinematical.com/2007/01/22/sundance-review-broken-english/

Whispering Sweet Job Leads

I met a date at the Whisper Lounge last weekend who has created a career by melding his background in both technology and music. He told me about some openings at the digital media company he works for in Burbank. Librarian background could be a plus.

I'm a little afraid of driving to Burbank, but I passed it on the way to Santa Barbara and it didn't seem far.

P.S.

I have no idea who is reading this blog anymore, but if anyone wants to email me about what I've posted on the blog, you can do so through the comments feature. I have to approve those before they get posted. I can answer questions if you send an email address (which I won't post).

Makin' It

I received a letter today stating that I passed the library interview, scored well, and made "the list." I had just been thinking on the drive home from Laguna that I had absolutely no idea how I did on that interview and that I should have answered some of the questions differently.

I was going to ramp up the job search next week, but now I don't know, maybe I should stay in low gear, long shot territory for the time being. I recontacted a couple of entertainment places this week but had not yet gotten back in touch with the general employment agencies.

Freebird

I set out for Laguna Beach today . The architecture isn't as stunning as in Santa Barbara, but the setting is beautiful. I got in the water but couldn't actually swim because the current was too strong.

The drive took an hour and a half from Los Angeles. On the way home, as I sat in traffic on the 405, I listened to an old mix tape made in 1994 featuring the Grateful Dead and Joni Mitchell.

I go back into my former workplace early tomorrow morning to sub for a coworker.

The Golden Key

Tuesday, on my way to get my parking sticker, I attempted to stop by a personal assistant agency in Beverly Hills that hasn't responded to any of my emails. Turns out their fancy address is actually one of those mailbox stores.

Foiled again!

I feel like I'm in a fairy tale, searching for the golden key that will give me access to a personal assistant position.

Living Up to Expectations

I am becoming a jaded tourist, but Santa Barbara did not disappoint. It was absolutely gorgeous. Again, the gray skies burned off by 3 p.m., leaving a beautiful afternoon for strolling around the Spanish architecture.

It took almost 2 1/2 hours to get there, but it was worth it.

Score!

I made a second attempt at getting a parking sticker for my car yesterday and this time I had success! The clerk who helped me required different documents from the one I first encountered. Unbelievable. I have suffered for nothing for the past five months.

Off to Santa Barbara today. This is the time of year when the skies are gray during the first part of the day, but the gloom burns off by late afternoon. Hope that happens today; yesterday was lovely by 3 p.m. Although--dare I say it--eternal sunshine can become monotonous after a while.

Holy Smoked Tofu

I walked over to Robertson Boulevard (aka the Boulevard of $200 t-shirts) this afternoon for the first time since moving here. It took me about 15-20 minutes at a leisurely stroll to arrive at the block of Robertson where New Line is located.

The weather was beautiful today and the Boulevard was busy. I ate lunch at a healthy, organic food place recommended by my roommate called the Newsroom Cafe. I had the best salad of my life-- the tandoori smoked tofu salad with kashmir cashews, baked lentil chips, and mango chutney vinaigrette. It was heavenly.

Lonely in the Middle

I caught a movie last week at the ArcLight on the same day I interviewed with the library. My Harvard-educated date told me that he once applied to be a financial aid counselor at a community college here (that's what his background is in), and they had him take a long test and then told him if he passed he'd be placed on a list of contenders and possibly called in for an interview (which never happened). I also recall an architect I dated here complaining to me about the certification tests he had to take to practice in the state of California.

Before I moved here a friend sent me an article about the lack of a middle class in Los Angeles, and I've since read that the city is desperate to attract middle class earners back to living in L.A. They tend to leave because buying property and raising a family here is so formidable. So it seems odd that middle class professionals have to jump through so many hoops to gain employment paying in the middling range. Single people such as myself and my former dates are probably the only professionals willing to live here on those jobs, since you certainly can't afford to raise a family on them in this town.

It's A Crisis, Part II

Back to my midlife crisis. I must quote my favorite TV critic, Heather Havrilesky of Salon:

Once we were young and fearless, but now we're afraid. Talk of world travel calls to mind rickety, overcrowded buses speeding across some muddy road in Thailand. The word "adventurous" triggers images of bungee-jumping accidents and hepatitis B. The sight of old people informs us of how alone we'll be in the end, no matter how many friends we have on speed-dial now. The Internets remind us daily of how elevators plummet and brides get left at the altar and teenagers stockpile weapons and killer bacteria lurk on every surface.

This is why we love "House," a weekly snuff film for neurotics and hypochondriacs, and cling to "The Sopranos," a dark morality tale for guilt-plagued competitive consumers, wandering like ghosts through their crappy jobs just to keep their high-end appliances and service-economy lifestyles intact. "The Bachelor" is just an extended exercise in heart-splitting rejection for insecure wannabe Cinderellas who fear that the champagne-rose-fantasy-suite fairy tale will always evaporate into a few beers, a rented movie and a suspiciously stained futon. And "CSI" offers an endless loop of random, unfair victimization of ladies with bad habits for women who feel powerless in their marriages, and the men who love them that way.

Parking My Troubles

Now that I have a week off I am going to attempt, for a second time, to get a parking sticker for my car. For reasons I won't go into, I've been limited all this time to a visitor hangtag, which means I can only park on the block on which I live. There have been a couple of times when I've had to circle the block for twenty minutes, usually after an incredibly long day at work, waiting for someone to leave so that I could park it and go into my house.

I live within walking distance of both New Line Cinema (to the west of me) and CBS Studios (to the east). How wonderful it would be to work in either of those places so I could walk to work and never have to move my car again! Parking problem solved.

Hustler

A few blocks south of where I live stands the "Flynt Publications" building on Wilshire Boulevard. I can't help but be curious about what goes on in there every time I drive past the building.

Well now I can wonder no more, thanks to a book called "Money Changes Everything," edited by Jenny Offill and Elissa Schappell. Yesterday I came upon the essay "Dirty Work" by Lydia Millet in which she describes taking a copy editing position there in 1991 after enduring a couple of bad, low-paying jobs in L.A. Interesting stuff for the curious, but it certainly lifts the veil and gives a portrait of a truly weird yet ultimately mundane and soul-crushing workplace.

Ruff Life

There are a lot of pampered pooches in this city; doggie bakeries abound.

My neighbor's dog has her own personal stationary, which she uses to leave us apology notes about her barking.

It's A Crisis

A little over a year ago I was in Chicago for an anniversary party for two gay men who were friends of friends. Over breakfast one morning we discussed the fact that women and gay men have their midlife crisis early, closer to forty, as opposed to straight men, who experience a crisis closer to fifty.

Doing a little research on the internet, I have found I'm a pretty classic case, with many of the symptoms first appearing while I was in Austin, debating whether to continue on my current course or move somewhere new. From www.capitalhealth.ca:

Is change coming? Experts suggest the following signs indicate you may be in the process of reevaluating your life:

• Discontent with life or lifestyle
• Boredom with people and things in your life
• Dissatisfied with marital relationship
• Feelings of adventurousness, recklessness and desire to do something completely different
• Lack of zest for life
• Questioning the meaning of life and previous decisions
• Confusion about who you are and where your life is going
• Burnout or prolonged high level of stress
• Depression, continuous irritability, moodiness, overall apathy
• Inability to relax during downtime'
• Need to achieve more, thinking it will make you happy when you do
• Feelings of inadequacy or dependence
• Anxiety disorder, feelings of anxiety in general or feelings of anxiety about the future
• Alcohol, drug, gambling or other addictive behaviours
• Question the value of contributions at work

The question is whether making drastic changes in my life will have turned out to be the wisest course of action. I have a feeling I have another year or two of being stuck in this limbo.