Strangers in a Strange Land

There is a temptation to always want to update with positive posts during this journey cross country, so much of it being incredible.  But I feel a duty to honestly document the experience.
So it would be a lie if I didn’t admit to wondering what the hell we’ve done?
Here we are, in a strange place, strange surroundings, feeling so out of sorts.  Something just doesn’t feel right and I have to honestly admit to wondering if we made a big mistake.  Something started to feel off as we approached LA- all the wonderful feelings of the last several days steadily dissipating the more I saw.. .Maybe it was just the journey ending.  Maybe it was the unattractive layout of the city, in stark contrast to San Francisco.  Whatever it was, something didn’t feel right, and I wondered what Mickie was feeling, what she was thinking. But I couldn’t ask because to do so would necessitate admitting, to her and myself, what I was feeling.
Turns out Mickie was thinking the same thing.  I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.

Spent the first night on an air mattress in an empty apartment, freezing our asses off because we didn’t pack and didn’t expect to need much in the way of blankets – the moving truck isn’t scheduled to arrive for a week. The next morning we went down to Bed Bath & Beyond to get some household supplies.  Weird.  The drive down was weird, the store was weird.  Everything looks ugly.  But why?  Is it because it’s different?  Because it isn’t New York?  It feels empty.  Small in some way.

I feel as though I’ve screwed up.  Part of me feels as I felt in my worst of times, that I’ve let everyone down.  We’ve moved away from what was our home, the people we knew, family, so far away to end up in this place that doesn’t feel right?  I want to reverse it.  Can I return this purchase?  I’ve changed my mind. We left New York, drove all the way across the country, only to end the journey and want New York. What the hell…but it’s an amazing place…and we left.  My boys were born in NYC.  That means something to me.  And now I’ve taken them away.  For what?  Did we just need a vacation and move cross country instead?

We have a place that is three times the size of our NYC apartment, and we spend all our time in one of the bedrooms.  The rest of the place feels cavernous.  I hate driving, piling into the car to go anywhere.  Could care less about the weather.

Some things aren’t so easy to reverse, are they.  I’ve learned that the hard way over the years.  So what now?  Own it….one of my favorite sayings.  Own it.  But I don’t feel like owning it.  I drive around and think “This is shit. This is shit.” I’m ready to leave.  I can barely speak it, but I want to go back to New York. I cannot believe myself for feeling that way, but I want what I want.  I cannot stand to walk around the neighborhood, people telling me how great it is here, and the weather, the weather ,the weather!  I look at them and wonder if they know what they’re missing.  “You aren’t in New York” I think.  And I secretly conclude they don’t have the taste to discern the difference.  I peg them as weak.  I look around the room when at an audition and I identify the flakes that could never make it in New York – most of the room.  When I run into a former New Yorker I feel as though I’ve found a kindred spirit, and basically spend the whole conversation talking about New York.

The adventure was great, driving cross country, being untethered, in motion.  I wish the journey had concluded on an equally high note.  I wish I could craft a tale of triumph and put an exclamation point on this period marking the end of one chapter and beginning of something else.  That would be dishonest.  No exclamation points.  At best, an ellipsis.

I fear that I’ve done my family a disservice.