TLDR; Ouch! I'm fine now.
Today marks one year to the day that i arrived in los Angeles to, I don't know what really. Take the next step. Be a big star. Etc.
One year. This is the length of time that everyone seems to agree it takes before everything gets better here. So, in a chronological sense, I have made it. I expect my golden letter from the king of Hollywood saying "You're in, kid" to shoot down my chimney any moment.
But In a psychological sense I am still very much at odds with this place. In the past year I have had to start over almost completely in comedy. This was part of the reason I moved, I had become complacent in Denver, but it is still a tough pill to swallow. All the credits and jokes in the world won't save you if you don't click quite right and hit the ground running. But that's a cop out. It's not you, It's me, Los Angeles. I, too often, forget how awkward those first few years in comedy were for me. That my base setting is "Total weirdo trying to make people laugh at the party but ultimately settling on an odd hush to excuse myself into my phone." And how it took a long time for that to change. Just, as i'm sure, It will take some time to find my place once again.
In the past year I have begun going to therapy (between therapists rn if any Angelinos know a good one who takes medi-cal) and taking medication for my anxiety and depression. Both of which have vastly improved. I started drinking again because, well, it was easier than being sad. Then I started smoking again, because you know what goes good with drinking? Then I stopped doing both, started again, then stopped again. I'm about a month out of that nonsense now and feeling like it's gonna stick. Never been good at drinking, not sure why I keep trying to get back into the game. Just walk away, kid! You aint got the stamina to go pro!
I've felt alienated, abandoned, shunned and forgotten. I've blamed other people and I've spent countless nights lying in the dark wondering what the fuck I am doing out here. How could I leave all my friends, a relationship and the first few sparks of a fairly promising little comedy career behind to come out here and be miserable. I sit here on day 365 feeling much the same, though I now realize I know exactly what I am doing here. Chasin' that dream down. Same thing as always, just in a different place. A place where the odds are better and worse all at once. It had to happen and it was always going to suck but I'm glad I took the leap at 33 rather than 34. Growth is seldom painless.
Nevertheless I am not at ease here. Doubt I ever will be. It doesn't snow and the leaves don't fall in autumn. Halloween feels like just another day and the parking situation feels like a punishment from the gods for bringing the secret of fire to man. I miss the mountains and the afternoon thunder. The last time I heard real good thunder was March, 6, 2016. The morning after I arrived in Los Angeles. A portent I'm certain.
So, all that said. How's it going? Well, Alright, believe it or not. Bordering on pretty good. I have friends, I know where to eat and I am feeling my feet beneath me creatively and emotionally for the first time in a long time (Sober livin' and meditation, kids'!) I am learning a lot about the ways in which I self-sabotage at times and how my overall need to be liked and accepted can be a real mood killer. I've become pretty bad at being myself in the past 8 years of doing comedy and I can't stands it no more. Some people aren't gonna dig your flavor and you just gotta be cool with that. Good people will come and bad ones will fall away. Don't beg for scraps. Don't be friends with people who aren't your friend. I have this written on my bathroom mirror. Because i'm 13.
Things are, in fact happening here. Writing work, acting work, a monthly show at a cool club and even some dope stuff with Comedy Central! I am still not sold on LA. In fact you could say there are times that I hate it with the fire of a thousand suns, but I am finding out that there is a lot more to California than just LA and it's pretty fucking cool out there. Bigfoot country, you know? I still miss Denver like a vampire misses the sun but I am starting to realize that I was maybe missing a time more than a place. When you get too comfortable it can be easy to mistake change for ruin. And vice versa. That doesn't mean Colorado or the people there are any less special to me, it just means that maybe your physical location isn’t as important as your mental location. Dig?
Ok, I'm Rambling. Point is, last year had it’s good points. Had some great times at festivals, some cool things happened and I got me an adorable little nephew out of the deal! But for the most part it felt like a great big, flaming garbage-boat for me. But It could have been better had I had my shit together. Last year wasn't a garbage boat, it was me! I was the garbage boat! Take responsibility, make changes, move ahead. Year two will be better. When they say "It takes a year" they don’t mean all your problems will magically be solved in a year. They mean that in a year, you'll start to see how things might work out in this strange new place after all. It takes a year to finally move away. You'll be much better off if you make that year count. I'll go now but for all those who have ever been curious or concerned: I'm alright, maybe even bordering on pretty... dang... ok. I am officially never turning back. Too clever to get started, too dumb to quit. Write it on my tombstone.
Colorado. My friends, my family, the great big spirit that sleeps under the mountains, I love you and miss you all the time. Friends in Los Angeles, lets try this one again! Friends in other places, I hope to see you this summer. God, Krishna, Bahamut, Universe, if you're listening: Good one, you rascal. Cool prank year