Price Tag

Every time I consider teaching full-time, there is one thing driving me.  It's not a love of teaching (which I don't have) or even a love of kids (which I have in spades); it's the money.

I'm not joking.  I know everyone says teachers are overworked and underpaid, and that is 100% true.  I'm not refuting that. But a teacher is paid more than a hostess, or a camp counselor, or a teacher's aide. A teacher is in the middle class. A teacher's aide is not.  They just aren't.

But seriously.

And in your early twenties, when you're single, it's easy to make your only expenses rent, groceries, and booze.  You don't need to be in the middle class. For three of the past four years, I've done this with varying amounts of satisfaction.  But anytime I start to think about pets, or home ownership, or god-forbid children, I suddenly find myself wanting more money. Actually needing it.

I can't afford the expense of a dog right now.  I can't afford the expense of a weekly yoga class right now (though if I was smart I would probably allocate my booze budget for this).  Point is, most of my time in California has been spent living exactly within my means.  With no wiggle room.

You want to go dancing?  You want a pair of leopard print pants?
You want a domesticated wolf to sleep in your house?!
 Don't worry, I've got it covered.  I'm in the middle class now.

I can't explain the mind-blowing relief I felt when I received that first teaching paycheck.  I suddenly didn't have to worry about money.  I didn't have to think about it.  I HAD IT.  I. Had. Money.  Was I happy that year?  No. Did that fix everything that was wrong with living in San Francisco? No.  But money, in a city that was so expensive, was suddenly off the table.  And that was amazing.

I can only imagine how far that teaching salary would stretch here in L.A.  And I do.  I imagine it a lot.  And that's a problem.

I don't know if I have the strength to be poor for another half-decade or longer on the off-chance this writing thing takes off.  I really want to settle down.  I really want a family.  And it's hard to imagine choosing to work in positions that take the choice of family off the table.

But do I really want to settle for career I'm not happy with?

I just find myself spinning in circles sometimes.  Because growing up, I was always such a creative person; I want to be that kind of person still.  I loved making stories and acting and creating art. And I feel like since going down this road with teaching those interests have totally been left behind.  So much energy has been focused on being a good teacher.  Growing as a teacher.  And I know people are gonna be like 'you can be a creative, artistic teacher', but that wasn't doing it for me.

White picket fence anyone?

Teaching just wasn't one of my passions.  It was kinda cool.  You know, how like making cookies is kinda cool.  But am I gonna try and become a pastry chef?  No.  I just don't like making cookies that much.

So what do I do? How do I feel like I'm making enough money to be comfortable, to grow with, but still have enough time and emotional energy to focus on this book I've started writing?  Or do I not?  Do I just get a job somewhere that's gonna give me plenty of money to settle down and admit that being an artist isn't for me?  That having a family was more important?  I know there's no shame in saying that, so... do I just have to choose one?  Hypothetical Family vs. Hypothetical Career?

That's the other ridiculous thing.  I have neither right now, so why am I pitting them against each other?  But I just quit my job and am looking for a new one, so I feel like now I have to choose what to actively pursue: Financial stability and possibility for settling down or financial instability and possibility of a career as an artist.

So here I am, spinning in circles again.

This is such an entitled millennial problem isn't it?

Burbank

Great day.  Signed up to be an extra.  Ate at a hip restaurant.  Got some fall scented candles for our apartment. Andrew bought some extremely flattering skinny jeans and a crazy cool sweater.  Got beyond decadent Godiva soft-serve/shakes.  And now I'm watching United States of Tara while eating leftovers from aforementioned cool restaurant in my pumpkin cider smelling studio.  So far LA is being good to me.

Valley Girl

I have been an L.A. resident for 14 whole days now.  I never in a million years thought I would say this, but I actually kind of like it.  Do I wish buildings were closer together?  Yes.  Do I wish bikers were respected and not forced up onto the sidewalk to feel safe?  Of course.  Am I confused when I can't find a separate recycling bin in a restaurant?  Very (I mean, I expected to lose public composting, but recycling??).  But overall?  It's been pretty neat.

Allow me to take you through a photo tour of my first 14 days:

 Andrew before I arrived, melodramatically placing all of his stuff and just a little bit of my stuff in front of the camera. Trust me, if you think this looks cramped just wait until we unpacked the storage unit.  I had several days of "THIS APARTMENT IS TOO SMALL" panic before we got everything sorted out.

Unexpected beauty flying into LAX.  We can see those mountains from the park where we work out in the morning.  It's too great.

The City of Angels herself.

Oh wait, here's that picture of TOTALLY NEVER HAVING ENOUGH ROOM FOR ALL THE STUFF.

First meal in the new place.  On the floor, amidst the rubble.

First room we had set up!  It has since fallen into a state of moderate disarray, but we do our best to keep the place tolerably neat.  Lemme just say, not having a dishwasher after having one for two years:  I feel like we are just constantly doing dishes.  I mean: every. time. you. eat.

Getting my library card!  First thing I checked out?  Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.  For Andrew.  Who was with me. And had his own library card. In his pocket. 

We were going to the grocery store and stumbled upon this great Farmer's Market instead!  The people there are so nice!  My favorite is the lady who sells dates.  She has crazy eye shadow and jokes around with us every time we stop by the stand.

So Andrew works nights and I'm currently basking in unemployment for a little longer, which means that I am frequently at home alone in such wonderful situations as this:  sitting comfortably outside on our balcony (you hear that SF? Comfortable outside, even at night, no jacket required), watching a movie, eating a home-made snack from organic locally grown veggies.

Andrew had an audition in Santa Monica the other day, so we decided to go exploring.  Santa Monica is great.  Cool, breezy, smells like the ocean, tons of bikes around.  And here is a weird dinosaur fountain on the 3rd street promenade.

And then we went to the beach!

And Andrew's pale ginger skin got terribly sunburned.  And the water was too cold.  I mean seriously, what are all those people doing in that ice bath?

Yesterday we made Preacher Cookies, but with almond butter, coconut oil, and shredded coconut.  They are basically fudge, and we have eaten about half of them already.

Last night we went to this really trendy restaurant bar that basically charged the contents of your bank account and your first born child for thoroughly middling tapas and debilitatingly strong cocktails.  Andrew wouldn't let me take a better picture of it though because Bill Nye was sitting three feet from his left shoulder and he didn't want it to seem like we were trying to sneak a picture of him.  (Yes, Bill Nye the SCIENCE GUY.  L.A. is crazy).

Up next?  Get a job.  Or start an acting career.  One of the two.  But neither sounds quite as fun as "go on day dates and shop at World Market."  Oh hey, did I mention I actually live in the Valley?

"Valley Girl" by Moon Unit and Frank Zappa

L.A. Living?

Well…. hello there internet friends, would you like an update?

Things have been hectic in an exciting way here in Melissaville.  Let's see what all has happened?

School ended and things kept going full swing.  In a triumphant flee from responsibility and maturity, I ghosted out of school about 30 minutes after the bell rang without saying good-byes to anyone (consummate adult here).  Andrew and I flew down to L.A. to do whatever and hang out, I guess.  Clearly it was life-changing.  A couple days later we came back up to clean my apartment and pack up my classroom before Abigail arrived!

Abigail was on her way to New Zealand (yeah, NBD off to New Zealand for the summer, tootles!)  and stopped in.  It was great b/c I was able to get out a whole bunch of final adventures:  Exploratorium, Night Life at the Academy, DNALounge, Outerlands: all the things I could think to do before leaving.

Sea Bass faces.  Outside Nightlife at the Academy which has surprisingly tasty drinks, but we didn't get to go in the terrarium before it closed.  Or the Earthquake exhibit, I just realized!  Andrew and I will have to go back.

Then Andrew left and Abigail left and I spent the next couple days packing and getting very nervous about driving a Uhaul with a trailer behind it.  Luckily Andrew came back up a couple days later, helped me clear everything out and insisted that he drive the first leg of trip because of how nervous and snippy it was making me.

Thanks to the Uhaul's BRILLIANT plan of not letting us get the truck before 11 am, we didn't get everything packed up until and on the road until 7.  And somehow, through what I can only deem the watchful eye of God himself, we managed to drive that behemoth until we got to L.A. at 5 in the morning.  Don't worry we made plenty of stops.  One at the apparently famous "Pea Soup Anderson's".    "Is that a pea soup-centered version of a dutch-influenced Cracker Barrel?" You ask.  Why yes!  Yes it was!

[source]
They advertised this place for 200 miles on I-5.  After months of driving past it, we finally had to see what it was.

I wish we could say we slept through the next day, but I had to go see some people about a car storage space (since I was going to be out of town for a month) so I dragged myself out of bed 4 hours later and got back to work.  Fast forward two hours and I've gotten my first carwash in months and even vacuumed out my car.  I wake up Andrew and drag him and the Uhaul out to wherever-the-fuck in the Valley to put my stuff in a storage unit.  I quickly became covered in bruises and was just the WHINIEST for the next couple hours (to be fair I'd only had four hours of caffeine-tarnished sleep).

Somehow, the crazies that we were decided it would be a great idea to do some apartment hunting that afternoon and set up about 3 or 4 viewings immediately after unloading (and before dinner).  I think we must have been running on pure adrenaline b/c we kept walking around neighborhoods and calling realty numbers even after that.

That's also how we spent the next day.  Long story short, I put in an application before I left in a neighborhood I was really jazzed about and hopefully I will have a place to live when I get back to L.A.

Later the next night I took a red-eye back to D.C. and am trying to slow down I swear to god.  I went down to Richmond to see my wonderful bestie, Nate, for the 4th of July.  While down there I drank enough to make me wake up and utter my new favorite phrase, "I'm too old for this." We also saw Maleficent, the horrible taste of which we immediately had to was out with Bridesmaids.

I caught up with Pete yesterday, and hopefully tomorrow I will just sit in the house or be at the pool reading all day.

THE END.