Monday, March 9, 2009

Ahh, L.A. (I can breathe here)

I've never bought into the saying that it's Better to have Loved and Lost Than Never to Have Loved at All. That's bullshit.

If I fuckin don't know how bad it hurts, it ain't gonna fuckin hurt me.

But this blog really has nothing to do with that.

It has to do with juxtaposition.
And contrast.
And being drunk.

I am a highly evolved human being, but an obnoxious contradiction. Do you ever feel that way? You're listening to Coldwar Kids but wearing Gap. You just recycled your organic, eco-friendly toilet paper on your way to Starbucks. You're reading Rushdie but just went to see Confessions of a Shopoholic.

You want roots but just not in the same place for the rest of your life.

Imagine this. You are making dinner for your model hot boyfriend (remember last year when you thought to yourself--life would be better if I was making dinner for two) who happens to be a fireman. He thoughtfully helps and appreciates you, kisses you in public, tells you he's gonna marry you and does the dishes. Your future is thought about and he makes enough to support your hypothetic family. This is what you waited so patiently for at night when you were trying to fall asleep. Eat your heart out women at starbucks in your yoga pants, strollers and diamond rings! I get to be like you soon!

Later that night you freak. But what do those women do after Starbucks and yoga? Is it the same thing everyday? Forget that. I need to start fights now. Maybe if I drive him mad, he'll go and I can....stay. Or go. That's the beauty of it. I can't do yoga and make smoothies in Orange County for the rest of my life.

Then you remember that for the past like 7 years you have been cursing L.A. for having people here not worth meeting or dating. And L.A. is ugly. It's dirty. And there are too many people that suck. And, seriously, it's ugly. Orange County has good schools, guys to date that have real jobs, it's pretty, it's grown-up oriented and not too far from L.A. It fits the bill.

Be careful what you wish for. Because fitting the bill has never been my style. And having style is courageous. There is no way you are going to be able to breathe with anything less that what you expect. Expectations are also the dynamite to relationships with anything other than freedom. So you give up everything for everything. Try figuring that one out.

Heartbreak hurts very, very bad. Choosing freedom over anything has a slim percentage of making you not second guess. And that second guessing can come close to killing you. Then that day comes when you are driving down the freeway and memory lane at the same time crying your eyes out wondering what in the hell is wrong with you, choking on your own decisions and that damn song The Fray sings, suddenly signs for Los Angeles approach and the smog clears your lungs. For a brief moment I comprehend the pure bliss of my choice for freedom. I see myself, who I am and what I'm about so clearly it's the calm inside the storm.

Happiness, the root of my freedom.


  1. Tracy turned me onto your blog. Jesus Christ, Kristy, why on earth aren't you writing MORE?

  2. I love you. So much. For everything that you write, for everything that you don't write, and just about everything in between.