In 2005, I decided I had had enough of Miami, and that it was time to finally pursue a music career in Los Angeles. I spent the summer of 2005 studying music in Paris, France. Upon my return to the US, it was time to pack up my car with all my belongings and head west.
It was a bit daunting. I had no job. I had no place to live. I had a few friends out here, but no one could put me up at the time. The trip itself had some interesting twists and turns. I drove the I-10 freeway across Louisiana just weeks before Hurricane Katrina would ravage the area. I stopped for dinner one night in Texas, and was asked if I wanted to sit inside or outside. I said "outside would be nice." The hostess told me that someone had just been murdered in the outside seating and perhaps I would like to change my mind. All I could think was "Texas is crazy!" I was able to visit New Mexico and Arizona for the first time. And then I ended up stuck in traffic headed towards Los Angeles. I remember my mom got me a hotel for that first night in LA, after all the driving. I found a storage facility to put all my stuff in so that I could drive around town looking for a place to live, unimpeded by my possessions.
I recently heard someone say that California is a land of dreamers. If the current generation didn't head west seeking something better, then it was likely their ancestors. Someone decided to leave the security of another place and come to California. And then those dreamers had kids who had that same dreamer spirit somewhere.
I didn't think that I would like LA. Ever since I was a kid I told myself, "you will live in LA for a set time to get established, and then you will head out of there." From the moment I drove into the city of Santa Monica, I knew that LA was a pretty great place. It was extremely difficult to find a place to reside. It makes you think that LA has some built in policies to keep people away. The rents are extremely high. Roommates flake and don't want to call you back. Traffic makes all your searching proceed at a snail's pace. I had to go to the public libraries and sign up for 15 minutes of computer time to do the following: 1. check email for follow-ups from flakey roommate situations 2. book a hotel for the night using Priceline, which generally shot me either to downtown LA or to the airport 3. Write as many emails to potential Craigslist listings with the hopes of hearing from them the next time I check at the library.
After at least a week of doing this, I was starting to freak out. I guess this is standard fare. Finally found a great situation that was the best thing for me. Things happen for a reason, and I had to run the gauntlet to get the right place. It was a dreamer idea to cross the country and hope for the best. But it all works out in the end.
It was a bit daunting. I had no job. I had no place to live. I had a few friends out here, but no one could put me up at the time. The trip itself had some interesting twists and turns. I drove the I-10 freeway across Louisiana just weeks before Hurricane Katrina would ravage the area. I stopped for dinner one night in Texas, and was asked if I wanted to sit inside or outside. I said "outside would be nice." The hostess told me that someone had just been murdered in the outside seating and perhaps I would like to change my mind. All I could think was "Texas is crazy!" I was able to visit New Mexico and Arizona for the first time. And then I ended up stuck in traffic headed towards Los Angeles. I remember my mom got me a hotel for that first night in LA, after all the driving. I found a storage facility to put all my stuff in so that I could drive around town looking for a place to live, unimpeded by my possessions.
I recently heard someone say that California is a land of dreamers. If the current generation didn't head west seeking something better, then it was likely their ancestors. Someone decided to leave the security of another place and come to California. And then those dreamers had kids who had that same dreamer spirit somewhere.
I didn't think that I would like LA. Ever since I was a kid I told myself, "you will live in LA for a set time to get established, and then you will head out of there." From the moment I drove into the city of Santa Monica, I knew that LA was a pretty great place. It was extremely difficult to find a place to reside. It makes you think that LA has some built in policies to keep people away. The rents are extremely high. Roommates flake and don't want to call you back. Traffic makes all your searching proceed at a snail's pace. I had to go to the public libraries and sign up for 15 minutes of computer time to do the following: 1. check email for follow-ups from flakey roommate situations 2. book a hotel for the night using Priceline, which generally shot me either to downtown LA or to the airport 3. Write as many emails to potential Craigslist listings with the hopes of hearing from them the next time I check at the library.
After at least a week of doing this, I was starting to freak out. I guess this is standard fare. Finally found a great situation that was the best thing for me. Things happen for a reason, and I had to run the gauntlet to get the right place. It was a dreamer idea to cross the country and hope for the best. But it all works out in the end.
RSS Feed