One Week Later. I'm Still Not Done Moving my Stuff.

And I can't move. Anywhere. Mom's place was built for one. "But didn't you grow up there?" One of my friends asked. Yeah, I did. But I was 15, 16, 17, 18... Not 38 with a life and stuff that comes with it. We were broke then. I had uniforms. Cheerleading uniforms, work uniforms. Why do you think I like clothes so much? I never got to wear them!

Well. Mom is being a huge sport. Which is nice. And comforting. And making my breakdowns less frequent and only occur in the confines of my own car. Luckily, beginning tomorrow I will be kind of housesitting at my friend Julie's and watching her cat. She and her husband live in Venice. I like Venice. I haven't been there in a very long time. There is beach in Venice. Funky shops. Bars. And she has tivo! cable! wifi!

The whole Wi-Fi thing has been an issue in Cypress. After I spent an hour on the phone, my mother spent an hour on the phone and I spoke to some guy at Radio Shack who used to live in LA... well, I'm getting one of those PC card things that requires a 2 year commitment and basically screws me if I ever get a life. Oh well. If I get a life, I won't notice. Now? Not having wireless is yet one further reminder that I don't.

Currently, I am sitting at Rita Flora editing something for a friend and using their Wi-Fi. And having a glass of wine. I need it. Or need something. After 14 years on one street. (Three different places). 14 years with one phone number (Three different places). This was always my corner. My little town in a big town. It makes me sad. To not be moving up to a street with a bigger city name. But down or back.

My mom said a lovely thing today. And she keeps saying it. "Well you needed to do this before you went to New York. You couldn't have just gone straight. What would you have done with everything?" Well, she's right. And I know she believes this. Because she even told the person from AT&T that I was just there for a few months and visiting from LA and on my way to New York... I just want to be there already.

Tomorrow. I throw out all my old magazines in my old garage. I liked my magazines. Vogue. Elle. The photographs are gorgeous. My moving man suggested I sell them to a bookstore. If I had time and a bigger storage space. Maybe. But I don't. I'm only keeping the decor ones. The wedding ones. The writing ones. Things I like, want and do. Then. I'll be done.