February 2009 - to college and the capital

February 9th saw the first day of a new semester at Pierce College, where I was taking some courses…again.  Between Pierce and Valley, I was taking Environmental Design 101, Introduction to Architecture, Freehand Drawing I, and Architectural Drawing (AutoCAD) I.  My first concrete steps toward Architecture education.

February 14th saw the usual holiday.  I went to Santa Cruz to be with a certain someone for it.  We also did something really romantic that visit - go to Sacramento and lobby for marriage rights for queer folk.  It rained like mad, we stayed with Adam and Charlsie, and we both got quite soaked before and after our meetings with legislators.  I met my representative, Julia Brownley, who is quite the advocate apparently.  Not exactly the hardest sell I ever had to make, but it was a fascinating day at any rate.  Nothing like a California assemblyman yelling to a theatre full of queer folk and their allies, "Oh, let's just turn out the lights and have a big make out session!"  Sorry, Mr. Ammiano, I may not have captured your exact wording - I'm sure your phrasing was more colorful. 

Most of February was unremarkable though, getting used to the grind of classes and studying as well as the oddities of art and studio design based courses.  Top it all off on the 28th by my Uncle Bob turning a ripe 60 years old.  I think he's been 60 for years though, and probably will never age past that.

November 2008 - easy living and new beginnings

Obama!  Yay!  Prop 8!  Booooo!  The first week of November was spent campaigning, voting, protesting, and escaping the fires burning in Sylmar.  A very dramatic time.  We all survived, and Lara's marriage even survived ultimately, thanks to (and, in a way, despite) the stupid, stupid court decision in spring '09.

Just before Halloween I had the first guitar lesson of my adult life.  I went in for finger picking lessons but ended up being paired with a jazz player.  It didn't really phase me since I wanted to learn more of everything, so in November I was taking my first steps into the world of jazz guitar.

Lara and Sam took me to my first Derby Dolls bout, a sporting event that hardly gets its due in the mainstream, though, if it ever did, it might just collapse entirely.  I played a gig with Nate at Cinema Bar in Culver City.  It was interesting.  I mostly just remember my water bottle full of gin and tonic, and being on the stage longer than I was comfortable.  Then I stayed the night at Lily's to comfort Nicole, and my car got towed.  In retrospect, I could argue that to be the most expensive first date ever.  But I learned my lesson - Los Angeles is serious about its anti-gridlock parking zones.

Nicole and I spent more time together in the ensuing weeks, eventually beginning something bigger than guitar lessons or even Derby Dolls.

For the bulk of November I was cradled in the lap of luxury at Chez Krawiec.  His parents had asked me to house sit for them again, looking out for Wiley and such.  I never have a problem doing so considering their house is spacious and gorgeous with views from atop a hill.  Add to that a spa bath and always generous compensation (for the imposition of living richly for three weeks, I suppose), and they had themselves a house sitter.  Wiley and I had some arguments about just when and how he wanted to play, but beyond that it was a flawless experience as always.

At my urging, Foxman and I found a beautiful, classic apartment just off the Blvd in Tarzana.  Staying in the Valley wasn't my first choice, but given my income (state unemployment checks) and his commute, it made sense.  Cathedral ceilings, hardwood floors, space space space, a huge deck and brand new kitchen appliances drew us in.  We were due to officially move in Dec 1, but we made it a few days early for the sake of harnessing the weekend.  I did something I never thought I would do: sign a lease for a Los Angeles apartment.

June 2008 - to wed and to write

June technically started while I was in Berlin.  I know this because I had my birthday there.  But the new month didn't really feel new until I got back home and joined in the preparations for Lara and Sam's wedding.

I got home on the 5th and went right to work for them.  We rented the sound system and helped organize the outdoor space at their friend's house where they were having the ceremony and reception.  I must have driven over a hundred miles in my first three days back in town, which, for LA, isn't actually saying too much.  The wedding was great.  I played emcee, everybody danced, and the inner circle ended up at Denny's afterward, as happens with any great party, wedding or otherwise.

Then I had three weeks of detoxification, of re-acclimation, of speaking and hearing nothing but English and knowing that nothing would change that fact any time soon.  But now, comfortably collecting unemployment, it was time to enact part B of my post-hospital-job plan: move somewhere cheap and write write write.

I looked into Port Angeles on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington.  I looked into Portland, OR.  I looked into a boat in Coos Bay, OR.  I looked into Salt Lake City, UT.  Then I looked at the fine print on my unemployment insurance terms.  Then I started looking in California, because that's where I had to stay to keep collecting checks.

My brother's girlfriend (now fiancee), Jenny, kept her apartment in San Luis Obispo during the summers when she was back in LA working in a law office.  The rent was steep but the lease was renewed annually and she didn't want to lose it.  I couldn't have afforded to live there, but we came to an agreement where I would pay her half the rent for the remaining two months of summer so I could stay up there and focus on writing without distraction.


The plan seemed fit and fortuitous.  I knew only two people in SLO, just enough to ensure company when I needed it, but not enough to impose upon my work.  I could move in July 1.