Whatever Will Be Will Be Good

I finally joined the current century. I upgraded my phone! I went from rebate to a white, 16gb 4s rectangular thing. It’s magical. It’s also necessary. A miniature computer makes living in a foreign territory quite un-foreign. 

I’m keeping up with the Silver Lakians. To do so, one must be in thrift store digs holding a rectangle. My email footer says “sent from Mcmurph PC” … now I’m the hypocritical joke.

I fit in. 

I fit in…but I’m still getting lost.

I left said rectangle at home while I went out for a run today. After all the eating and drinking in the hills I needed a bit of exercise. Running up and down hills is confusing. And hard. And I got lost. And when I walked into my apartment later than anticipated, I thought my roommate and her boyfriend were reaching for the defibulator upon seeing their faces see mine. I was as red as a pinpoint on the electronic map I left at home. If only I was holding that rectangle with that 4G GPS. 

After cleaning myself up, I started out on another “exploring my hood” adventure. This time with my friend and tour guide, Siri, in hand.

On this rectangle, an “app” is not food. But an app can tell you where to find food. Urbanspoon is an app. AroundMe is an app. They are both tasty but you can’t eat them. Almost as confusing as the curvy, hilly streets.

Ahh, how the modern hunting and gathering has cut out the work-or rather, the exercise.

So to see some of these red pinpoints on my map app, I set off to wander up and down Sunset Boulevard for 2 hours while talking to my dear friend Kory. Kory lives in Charleston, South Carolina.

Time zones are not on our side. We are kind of the same person occupying different coasts. 

Kory is at a university hospital doing outpatient dietetics. So am I.  Kory thinks too much. So do I. Kory is a bit sad right now…trying to figure it all out. I am sad for her. So I bought her a card. And I wrote in it.

1.22.Twenty12
Dear Kory,

You are a peach. A peach & a half, actually. I miss you often. Very often. And the moment in my life that you were a part of.

First off, happy 30^th! I wish getting older gave us more answers-or led us closer to “the answer.” Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it gives us the answer that there aren’t real answers at all. That everything is a journey. That we are all fluid. That when things are good and we meet amazing people we need to recognize it.  and them. and celebrate that moment- because it passes.

And it makes life better but harder too. Because we’re always trying to top that moment. Or hold onto it while we continue to grow. And then we compare everything to it. And try to get the best of every world we live. And our hearts just fill to the max! And it’s exhausting.

And silly!

We are humans and we can’t control hardly anything. (and we have big expectations!). And we can’t hold onto everything and expect to also move forward. If that were the case, I would have like ten boyfriends all the time! (psh, no I wouldn’t). And that would be terrible! Because I can’t hardly handle one!

You are like me-that’s why I like you. That’s probably why Rick finds me “ok” for a girl and a human and a stupid 25 year old with an older brother and an older sister. (Rick, you lost that bet).

We try to hold onto everything all the time. And do it well. And our hearts and minds just can’t hold onto everything and continue to grow, and go with the flow, and process. And even if we did hold it all together and stay in one place, the world would go changing things on us! It's a sneaky trick this world pulls on us!
Then we feel sad. Or guilty. Or reminiscent for things in our past. And then we need to remember that life is always changing and it’s a journey to nowhere at all. And you can’t compare apples to oranges. It has ups and downs and looking back always seems better in retrospect. The future is uncertain. The present is what it is. So we keep going.

And we are getting smarter and we do have more answers. But it’s just our own answers.
But even when we hit 30, or 25, or whatever, we have to remember that we’re doing the best we can and we need to put our pretty thoughts and heads to rest. And be. Good.
I love you!
Meg

As I wrote to dear Kory, my rectangle app played me a song. A version of Que Sera.

The future’s not our….

Life is going on as normally as ever…

There are a lot of things we don’t understand, either. We need answers from you: what did you expect to find? What’s going to be our future?..

…Que sera, sera.

I started to walk back up my street. To get to my new version of home at this time in my life. And I passed the Microbrew on the corner called Good. My rectangle tells me it’s 0.25 miles from home. It neglects to tell me that 0.25 miles uphill feels like 0.5 miles.

My rectangle helps close the gap from Charleston to Los Angeles. There is also an app that yelps that my house is by Good and it’s not just a clever name. And I should go to Good. So I will. And I am. 

And while I type, my rectangle app tells me that I’m searching for a heart of gold, and I’m getting old.

I’ve been to Hollywood…

...and I've seen it from my bedroom window.

Danger’s Global Warming Warning

Let me just say that this holiday season was anything but a normal holiday season. 

One reason? Possibly my decision to relocate from Chicago (the burbs, let’s not get ahead of myself) to Silver Lake LA CA between Christmas and NYE Twenty12.  Hmm or maybe it was that it was warm and ice-less enough to take a run on Christmas in the burbs. Either way, it just didn’t feel much like Christmas.

Either Chicago was onto me and gave a solid persuasive attempt to keep me or that thing that Al Gore and my college chemistry teacher kept talking about is happening.

Global warming?

Global warning?

As I packed up some essential cooking utensils and favorite mugs I also packed on some pounds-That run was the last run I took.

After that it was a 2,000 mile drive down route 66. The submission to all the roadside food and kitschy Americana I could get. And a week of getting acquainted and dining out LA style with tour guide Danger.

Which is proving dangerous for my beach figure.

My habits and location are now a global warming warning for my figure.

St. Louis, Missouri. First stop. 2:30pm. Local Harvest café. Blocks down from my old digs. Good food. Good people. Smoker out back. Sold.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Midnight. Nothing was open. Pizza Hut? It was a blurr but whatever it was, I needed. Some sleep. Some continental breakfast. 

Amarillo, Texas. Midday. Golden Light Café. Apparently the slaughter house of our nation, Amarillo served up a mean burger which I washed down with a Lone Star beer. The place was classic. I could spit on the line behind the bar. The only waitress thanked locals for Christmas gifts as they walked in. Sweet Child of Mine, Jack and Diane, and Mary Jane’s Last Dance played on the barely audible gloveless cook’s 1992 radio. Apparently no health regulations followed in international territories-The Lone Star State. Popped in and out of the antique lined street and jumped back into the car.

 Pit stop. Gas station coffee. Necessary after a midday beer and lots of driving.

Albuquerque, New Mexico. Late. Kelly’s Brewpub. Wanted some authentic Mexican but it felt like Albuquerque was trying to prove that it was more than chilies. Quinoa concoction, some of pop’s pulled pork and a house made red lager. I wasn’t in the Midwest anymore. Cool place. Cute accents. Crazy, great houses.

 

 

Santa Fe, New Mexico. Mid morning. I felt like I walked into a past time. Explored the culture of this old world, beautiful town with a latte in hand.

 

 

 

Navajo land. I bought a blanket. Be jealous. 

It’s amazing and so is the man who sold it to me. 

 

 

...And then there was Geronimo.

Flagstaff, Arizona. Evening.

Oh no. Problems occurred. Altitude of 6,900.

Authentic, college hipster vibe of good beer and good coffee. Beaver street brewery served up some artsy goodness. Which was later served up by me. Needless to say, not as good tasting the second time. Even worse, only room available was a hostel style room without a bathroom. Going down to the toilet paperless lobby bathroom half delusional at 3am was less than ideal.
Macy’s coffeehouse for breakfast. Not my finest hours. But real good granola, yogurt and fruit breakfast. Couldn’t do coffee. That’s how bad I felt. It didn’t even smell good. Now you know how unfortunate this event was. I’d still go back to flagstaff. 

 

 Sedona, Arizona. Midmorning. After my illness and lack of shower, the streets were mocking me. I was dirtier than they will ever be. Sparkling town. Caters a bit much to high-end tourists. Fried cactus helped get me back on my road food track. Too preoccupied with nausea to truly enjoy the town but the red rocks looked a lot nicer on the way out of the town than they did on the way in. Maybe it was the cacti help.

 

 

Santa Monica, California. Late. Pizza again. I needed a shower and to not move.

The next morning started with a coffee on venice beach. “Good” microbrew down from my new digs in Silver Lake. And a late night diner experience at Swingers diner.

…the week following the road food continued onto include: Malibu fishery, barbeques in Topanga Canyons, In-and-Out burger on Ventura, horchata at an authentic taqueria down the hill from my place, An intoxicating experience at Musha in Santa Monica...

And the list goes on and on. And on.

One can get any food one wants in this town.

And not only is my global location a warning but so is my ability to fit into these clothes I hauled 2,000 miles.

Today I decided to be healthier. I took a hike in Malibu and picked an orange off a tree by my mailboxes. I’m going to try living off this global land and see where it gets me.

So far it’s gotten me west, up the hill from Sunset Blvd and a view of the Hollywood sign.