In Suburbia, Things Close Early

Which when you commute for an hour and twenty minutes from damn near close to the place you used to live just one short month ago, well... it means you can't get anything you need. Staples? Closed. Which is a huge bummer because I so wanted to print my January letter to go with my January cards which I am sending out probably in February. But what can you do? I spent all this time writing it and I really like my January cards (I would show you but they were taken off of the website... argh!). And yeah. I know I could have and should have gone to Staples over the weekend but I spent most of it editing a friend's book (funny and good and I get compulsive when I have a task that I enjoy) and getting my ass kicked in yoga and putting yet more things into my storage space and doing notes and thinking about my script and answering emails. And contemplating my life and watching Click. Oh and updating my resume into a fancier, less pathetic version. Which it should have always been. But I didn't always feel less pathetic. So I couldn't always do.

Being around Carla has been good for me. She is fearless. (She was the girl on our cheerleading squad at the top of a three man high pyramid who did a toe touch and trusted we -- well, other people than me-- would catch her). And there was a part of me that was fearless in some ways when I was younger... obviously we became friends somehow... and there is a part of me that always still is, but a bigger part of me got lost and mired down and kind of forgot who I was, what I've done and what I'm capable of. So the new resume? A marked improvement. It's night and day. And it's true!!! It's just knowing how to spin it and present it. And it's not that I didn't have other people who believed in me in the past -- in fact, I still do-- some great, supportive friends-- it's just the people in my industry I worked with didn't concretely help me within my industry-- either because they weren't in it or they didn't know how. Sure, they offered help outside of it. And I took it. And I'm grateful. And I won't forget it. Ever.

But telling stories is my heart and soul. Being creative. And talking to creative types. To me, it's home in its own way. Much like Carla and Caren feel like home because I've known them since I was a Brownie. (Like a lot of other great friends I have... although they came in post-Brownie). So the creative environment-- the being home with myself again is making my current home-- which doesn't feel so much like one (even though I grew up here-- maybe because I grew up here)-- so much better. Suburbia, or no.