August 2008 - communication breakdown

August was my second month in SLO, trying to live he writerly lifestyle I had so long dreamt about.  In the end, that's exactly what I was living, without the writing.  It started with increasingly decadent and time-consuming meals.  Then I stagnated altogether, and thought I had to read more to become more inspired.  Then I realized I had never seen the Mad Max movies, and hadn't been eating enough pizza, or experimenting with enough ice cream and espresso combinations.  It was a slippery slope from there.

I spent more time hanging out with Jeremy and Erica and company, trying to not feel so isolated.  I suppose I have to admit the loneliness was getting to me.  There were parties, bike rides, wine tastings, nights out - all the usual items of a social life, restricted basically to two people.  We celebrated the End of the World on the evening CERN's new Large Hadron Collidor was turned on for the first time.  I went back to LA to bid farewell to Tara, as she left for San Diego to start a grad program.  Before I knew it, my SLO time was quickly running out, and I was due to be back in LA at the end of the month.  Jenny needed her apartment back and I had to move on to the next great experiment...the same one I had left 2 months prior.  Nothing.

But my last night in town was a fantastic one.  Jeremy and I rode the 10 miles to the beach and back, and then drank tawny port and ate bleu cheese while watching the Animation Show for the rest of the night.  I got very little sleep, woke up early to a real thunderstorm, threw my packed bags and boxes in the car, and made my last drive home.  Until the next time I had to run away from Los Angeles.  It happens frequently.

July 2008 - the SLO life

I moved into my new digs on the 2nd of the month.  I brought clothes, guitar, a couple of microphones, my computer, all my old writings, and not much else.  The first day I was there I went grocery shopping at the bottom of the hill at the organic food market, New Frontiers, and made sure to pick up a pack of cigarettes, a handle of gin, several small bottles of tonic, and a sackful of limes.  My mission, like my drink of choice, was clear.

Immediately upon arriving I had several ideas for what to do with projects I was working on.  I woke up, leisurely made breakfast, played guitar, got down to writing, had a drink, leisurely made dinner, read for a bit, went for a walk or a bike ride, etc.  Not that I stuck to a routine or anything.  Such a thing would have reeked of work and discipline.  Those were the typical elements of any given day, and they came and went as they pleased.

I kept a journal of my work.  Each night I would record what I had worked on that day, how much I had accomplished, and remember to myself any ideas I might have had about new projects or how to advance current ones.  I can see from my record keeping that in my first week there I wrote about 9,000 words over 3 projects.  I also had a nice day at the beach on the 4th of July, which ended with fireworks at a parent's beach house in Pismo.

Mid-month I was back in LA visiting my grandma and taking care of unemployment business, but after less than a week of that I ran straight back north and go to writing again.  I hosted my first couchsurfer, Olly, from England but making his way home from Korea at the time.  Before the end of the month I had started a new project, completed an old one, and made good headway on a couple in between.

Of course, by then I had discovered the television and Asimov's Foundation novels, so there days when I simply cooked, ate, read, watched a movie, talked to a friend, drank, smoked, and went right back to bed, sometimes without ever having put on real pants.  I was a writer!  I just had to write more...