Obsession is a Virtue
April Backpacking Trip Part 3
It is late evening & I’m perched in the dining car of a train heading towards the city of angels. My knees are tucked up to my chest, ballet flats planted firmly on the pleather seat of this booth, as I suck down a packet of instant oatmeal from a paper coffee cup. There is an elderly man playing on his iPad with the font size x3, sitting across from me in this booth, despite there being an empty booth right next to us. Actually this whole car has plenty available seating right now because the sun has retreated to bed & with it so have most of the other passengers on this train. It’s just me, my diary, this old man, his iPad, and a few other stragglers left in the dining car. I would be less annoyed at sharing this space, if he was at least attempting to strike up a conversation, but I keep trying to catch his gaze and he doesn’t acknowledge my presence. Well then, what’s the point of the forced proximity?
Ten minutes into this train slinking out of Portland, we passed by a sign out the window that said, “Obsession is a Virtue.” #truth. This ones gonna do numbers on my instagram story, I think to myself.
Should I take this sign as a a sign? Should I amp up my obsessive nature? Obsession is a virtue. I love to obsess. I love to ruminate. I love to nitpick & argue & judge & laugh & scream & sob & experience every emotion to the severest degree. I love to be a virtuous lady when opportunity presents itself. This week, opportunity will present itself, please World please.
Things I want right now:
a long hot shower
a home cooked meal (prepared by me or the future love of my life or a really good friend)
to be parallel in a king sized bed
to draw everyday
to do yoga everyday
to stop biting my nails & my lips & the insides of my cheeks
for my bangs to grow ten inches overnight
to magically transform into the better version of myself overnight
to have unlimited funds that never run dry
to forgive myself
for Mother Nature to be EXTRA kind this week ie. clear blue California skies
The train is freezing and I’m bundled up in my dirty laundry to protect against the chill. Tonights pajamas are consisting of yoga pants with my corduroys layered on top and my black quarter sleeve with my denim jacket layered on top of that. I’m utilizing my Someone in Tallahassee Loves Me T-Shirt as a top sheet & my long floral dress is placed over that as my duvet.
No signal on the train right now as we work our way up a mountain range. We, the train and me. Feels like one whole entity, the train and me. Don’t know where I am and don’t care enough to look at the map. I’m somewhere in America and that’s good enough for me. Eyes are fixed out the window, on the mountain ranges with snow capped tips & the cherry blossom pink sky. Water From Your Eyes is on shuffle in my headphones. I am pulling apart my split ends & chewing on the skin of my lips even though I promised myself that I would stop doing both of these things.
Was wondering if I was gonna see redacted in LA, but then Max called me last night and joked in a sing-song voice, “Your boyfriend is gonna be out of town this weeeeeek.” Redacted being Max’s friend who I attempted to hit on last summer and who rejected me (gently). To add fuel to the flame, this event took place at 4100, a dive bar that is the Los Angeles equivalent to Brooklyn’s Carmelo’s, so being rejected there of all places, makes that event all the more mortifying. Flash forward a year later and the shame has festered, but I feel relief at the knowledge that I will not have to face redacted this week, who I don’t think I will be able to look in the eyes again. I will eventually have to look redacted in the eyes again because we share the same best friends but this week, I am safe. Was retelling the story to Ruby & Amelie and more MORTIFYING details kept resurfacing. Oh my god I was not in my right state of mind. Gorgeous scenery passing by my sightline, feels like I don’t have the right words. Creeks? Redwoods? Smog? My ears are popping and my stomach hurts from the elevation.
Can’t find the tweezers I just purchased at the CVS yesterday. Tore my bag apart searching and nothin’! Fuck me. Is this a sign? NOT EVERYTHING IS A SIGN.
Next Day
Woke up to my phone being on two percent. Classic. Used up my last dose of iPhone to text *****, the girl who I am probably crashing with tonight. “Hiii, can I crash at yours tn?” Hope she says yes. Awkward. I forgot to ask earlier. Or no, I didn’t forget, I just got caught up, and now it is day of arrival and I’m sitting on this train hoping that she will still let me into her home & onto her couch tonight. We will see. Max & Ella offered for me to stay with them, but I said no because I want for them to think that I have it all together now, compared to when I came to visit last summer & was a bit crazed in the eyes & spiraling & vulnerable. Not a good week to be me. This year I’d like to be put together & on my best behavior. Want everyone to think to themselves, “Wow, when did she become so level-headed & zen?” Think I am thinking about myself too much. Found my tweezers just sitting in my purse as if I didn’t flip it upside down & tear my backpack apart looking for them. Right. Tweezed my eyebrows & washed my face & swallowed my vitamins & feel like a brand new lady.
***** responded to my text & said YES! to letting me crash at hers and even offered to pick me up from the train station tonight. Thank god. I was planning on just taking the bus. Picking at a blueberry muffin with my fingertips and nursing a cup of black coffee from the cafe. I’ve befriended the cafe attendants because I keep going downstairs to order cups of hot water for my oatmeals & teas. Want to shove the now empty muffin wrapper into my mouth to taste every last morsel, but train is too packed out to do something so primal.
Henry texted me, “I know you hate this, but I just watched your vlog, lol” Lol, indeed. I love him so much. Need to make better vlogs. Watching his videos in return as I pass the time drifting along the pacific. He makes really wonderful documentaries and I feel trite when I think about the vlog of it all. Can’t compare the two very different things, and yet here I am comparing the two very different things & feeling color rise to my cheeks in embarrassment.
Everyone I encounter keeps asking me the same question: What’s the craziest thing you’ve seen so far on your travels? NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! EVERYTHING HAS BEEN SO NORMAL, AND THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT. The people asking me these questions are so normal, and that’s the whole point. This month I have been living my exact same life, the only difference has been my physical environment. Everything is the same. Really, really, normal. This is just like how life felt in Brooklyn or Orlando, only difference is that I am typing this out in a train instead of in my home.
“You guys are gonna miss how beautiful it is here!” An elderly man called out to me and the old lady who I am sharing my booth with. This train to California is just packed out with me & the geezers. The woman & I looked up from our tasks (I am writing in my diary & she is reading a paperback) and our eyes followed the old mans pointer finger out the window. We’re skirting right along the Pacific Ocean, the train tracks so close to the water that if I made a run for it, I’d be meeting the sea in a minute’s time. The three of us looked on placidly- I shut my diary & she closed her book.
Los Angeles, California
Arrived at Union Station in Los Angeles sometime around 9 pm where ***** is parked waiting for me. Feel a swell of gratitude & a pang of guilt at the knowledge that all month people have been doing all these large favors for me that I don’t know how to repay. Don’t like feeling like a taker.
The guilt sits passenger & my gratitude’s the driver in my brain that’s running on E. ***** & I are on the phone trying to find each other in the maze of Union Station and I am so distracted by how gorgeous her voice is. We finally spot each other across the parking garage & she rasps out a “Diana!” and I squeak out a “*****!”
Immediately the vibes are so nice and we’re rapid fire shooting the shit. I’m profusely thanking her for picking me up and can tell that we are going to be immediate friends. ***** is twenty five & has curly brown hair & pink polished nails & my guilt reached over and took the wheel at the knowledge that I’m being a taker from such a pretty lady.
“What’s your vibe tonight? Do you want to stay in? I’m sure you’re tired from all the travel.” She says. I am exhausted but I don’t miss a beat before the words, “I could rally.” leave my mouth.
***** drives us to her home where I change into my LA apparel black mini dress & brush my teeth & my hair & apply a thin layer of mascara. Her roommate ****** joins, and the three of us speed over to this dive bar in Mar Vista. “Brace yourself for what you’re about to witness here.” ***** jokes as she parks the car. “What do you mean?” I responded. “Oh you’ll see.” ***** & her roommate start giggling in tandem.
Oh, I saw.
We order a round of tequila sours from a sweet bartender and get situated at a table on the front patio. The bar is crawling with all walks of LA life. Everyone is attractive & I am feeling self conscious. No time to think about my positioning in this bars totem poll because we are currently being approached by two coked out dudes in their late 30s. I am only assuming that they are coked out & in their late 30s from their demeanor, but maybe I am just judging to judge. They pulled up two stools to our table and started chatting up a storm. The ringleader of the pair is showing us a photo of his 36 year old girlfriend in one hand, and a vial of cocaine in the other. He starts offering the vial around the table for any takers and chatters, this is Nepo baby, saline solution, infused coke. Like, some premium shit. Right. Okay. He continues, I’m like patenting it right now, this is kinda like, my baby. He presses the nozzle to his nostril & pushes down & I looked at ***** to assess her vibe and she looked at me to assess my vibe and well, who are we to be impolite? So now I’m on his level or maybe a step below & nothing feels serious anymore because we’re all passing around nepo baby saline solution while the two guys continue to talk about nothing really at all. Their opinions on plastic surgery & sex workers & big Pharma & Coachella. Sat there listening, wordlessly. The ringleader stops himself mid story ramble and turns to me, “I know you’re from New York because you just sit there and don’t talk and I think you’re silently judging me.” Paused and looked at him wide eyed like he just told me I’m crazed. “I just have nothing to say in this moment.” I replied, trying to find something to say. ***** and her friend ******* seamlessly swooped in, bringing the conversation back to boob jobs & ozempic. Wit and charm just flowing off their tongues so seamlessly. Did a better job at smiling and nodding and smiling and nodding to not get called out again. My bad y’all. The guys friend sympathetically turned to me and states, “Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking wrecking ball.”
The two men leave to go to a new bar & as soon as the coast is clear, *****, *******, & I burst out into never-ending laughter. He’s a fucking wrecking ball, we kept echoing to each other. “God, if one of my friends described me as a wrecking ball, I would lose it!” ***** exclaims, and then we feel a presence standing behind us. It’s him, the ringleader. He’s returned, standing there slightly swaying, eyes unfocused. Did he just hear us laughing about him? He slurs in the most valley accent, “Ummmm do one of youuuu haveee…. my vapeeee?” We pretend to look around the table and say, “No, sorry, hope you find it!”
He thanks us and leaves again, and we burst into a fresh cacophony of giggles. We indeed did not take him vape, but his friend in a drunken, nepo baby saline infused, state, did leave us an almost completely full pack of Virginia Slims. We took a waymo home where I crawled onto her couch with the kitties and drifted off to the deepest slumber known to man. What a perfect first night in the perfect almost-last city.
Next Morning
*****’s apartment is my LA dream. She lives in a gorgeous klieg-lit bungalow with kitties galore. It’s a perfectly decorated balance of youthful & put together. I’m parallel on her couch & three kitties are roaming around the living room. ***** and her roommates all look like they’re fresh off a magazine cover. The one with gorgeous glass skin just asked if she could get me a water and I blushed & said no thank you in response, despite being kinda parched. She goes to fill her own water bottle & started cracking up, remembering this moment from last night:
The drunk guys standing & swaying, grasping a bottle cap between his pointer & thumb, aiming at an empty glass beer bottle a few tables away. "Do you think I’ll make this shot?” He asked the three of us and in unison we go, “Probably not.”
“Well if I do make it, you guys have to promise me that you’ll do one thing tonight. One thing girls. Promise me that tonight, you’ll do the one thing that scares you.” He slurs with urgency, a grave expression fixed on his face. I think he’s being serious.
Before we have time to promise or not, the bottle cap is flung from his grip and landing in a nearby bush, nowhere near the vicinity of his target. Awkward pause.
“Okay so I missed.” He stated, genuine shock on his face. BUT think about why it took me doing that, for you guys to want to do the thing that scares you.” He continues on his motivational speaker tirade. He stops for a second to ponder the philosophy of his words before whipping out more nepo-baby saline solution from his back pocket. The nozzles in his nostril as he saunters away and the three of us are trying very hard to hold in our laughter.
8:52 am. ***** & I are sipping canned cold brews out of mason jars. Delish. I like seeing how differently everyone this month takes their coffee’s. The concept of her getting bulk cans of cold brew as her source of morning caffeine is unhinged and beautiful to me. We finished our coffee’s & ***** retreated back to her room to take a cat nap, preparing for our day ahead.
***** & I went to Tanner’s, a laid-back coffee shop with a “Now Hiring” sign in the window that I took a photo of on instinct. Why did I do that? I always take photos of Now Hiring signs just in case because of my severe job hopping nature, but it’s not like I will be job hopping out of Brooklyn. ***** ordered a matcha and I ordered a smoothie but the employee said that they were actually, “all out of fruit.” which is code for “I do not want to clean the blender.” I only know this because I would say that we were actually all out of fruit when I did not want to clean the blender at my old cafe.
*****, her roommate, & I are splayed out on beach blankets at Venice, soaking in the rays. The chill is slightly unpleasant but it doesn’t matter because the sea is politely saying hello. The sun keeps slipping behind clouds & then dipping back out to greet us too. The wind is whipping my hair gently enough in front of the pages of my book to where I can still make out the words between my darkened strands.
I parted ways with ***** & took myself to a Brandy Melville. Stood in the checkout line for too long and nobody came to ring me up so after 5 minutes ticked by everything went in my pockets & I went out the front doors. Everything being: a pair of silver hoop earrings & bangles & new hair ties. Nothin’ crazy.
Solo at Rainbow Room, this bar in West Hollywood for the Girl Insides x Worst Boyfriend Ever reading. Very shamefully told my friends what I was doing but they (thankfully) do not know why this is a shameful act to partake in. They do not have Substack & do not know who these anonymous, faceless Substack bloggers are. Thank god for the Real World.
I’m going to meet up with them after I’m done seeing whatever I need to see here, but curiosity got the best of me, so this was my first stop of the night. People in this room are unattractive & beady eyed. Made friends with people who I found unattractive & beady eyed. All I could think was, God I hope no one takes a photo of this incriminating moment.
Everyone was just so normal and awkward. Felt too much secondhand embarrassment but then found myself feeling bad for him and then for her and then snapped myself out of that completely and just felt embarrassed for myself. For my positioning in all of this - going to this random poetry reading just to see these anonymous Substack profiles un-blurred and in the flesh. Felt pervy & like I was invading their privacy, opening a curtain that was shut for a reason.
Left that to meet up with Max, Ella, redacted, & our other college friends who moved to LA after graduation. We’re standing around at the most random bar in the world, Shatto Lanes. Shatto Lanes is this liminal space of a bar/ bowling alley with astringent lighting and big plexiglass windows to people watch the bowlers. All week Max has been talking nonstop about how much he looooves this bar and I felt kinda pissy that this was the agreed upon meeting point, because it’s not the kinda bar that I could easily convince other people to come to, with the whole overhead lighting & astringent nature of it all.
Max buys me a beer and I forgive him in my head for picking a bad bar. We walk back over to our group of friends and I think to myself, Redacted looks so different from last summer. Ignoring that thought. Need to be on my best behavior. Redacted is a friend of Max & Ella’s who I met years ago. I don’t remember meeting him initially, but we re-met last summer when I came to visit, and the two of us were both fresh off heartbreaks, his a nine year relationship, mine that one that is redact-ified ‘cause I’m almost healed. Now it’s been a year and he’s almost healed. And I’m almost healed. And the color is back in our cheeks and grins are on our faces as we catch up in Shatto Lanes.
We were outside smoking and I offered him a cigarette from my pack. He goes, “You’re smoking those now?” And continues, “Last summer you were smoking those blueberry flavored CBD ones.” I forgot about that. Last summer I was smoking CBD cigarettes. Wait, cuteness. Him remembering the exact cigarettes I used to smoke. New friend alert. Feel embarrassed whenever I hang out with this friend group ‘cause of how badly I embarrassed myself last summer with their friend redacted, so I’m trying to be on my best behavior around everyone this time around.
A girl who works at redacted’s tattoo studio slid into my DM’s, offering to tattoo me while I am in LA because she watches my YouTube videos. I showed redacted the message and he said, “Small world!” DM’d her back that I do not have any tattoos but would love to be friends, so now I have a new friend in redacted’s coworker. God I love the internet.
I invited her to come out tonight. She said where are y’all at and I sent her the bar and then she stopped responding till the next morning once she saw the photo of it. Valid. Tried to win her over anyways with a double text of a:
it’s not a vibe but we can make it a vibe
and a
your coworker redacted is here if that sways any opinions
Futile attempts.
Ended up crashing at Max & Ella’s instead of at *****’s ‘cause it was late and her & I were both out doing our separate things. Tried to convince her to come to Shatto Lanes but… ya know.
Next Day
Woke up on Max & Ella’s couch. Wearing yesterdays makeup & one of Max’s pajama shirts that says Dropped on my head when I wuz a kid in comic sans font.
8 am Ella left for work & Max and I walked over to a nearby cafe to get breakfast. A cortado gets ordered by me & a cappuccino gets ordered by him. The cafe was fresh out of cortado cups from the morning rush, so my drink looked all pitiful served in a latte mug with all this extra room. Didn’t taste as good in the wrong cup. Realized what I was complaining about, and my annoyance turned into god, could you be anymore pretentious? Typing this out while he chews on a chocolate croissant. Little croissant flakes are landing in his shoulder length hair that I am attempting to not make eye contact with. I am so happy to be here. I want to stay. Not actually. I like to lie. Not actually. I do love it here so much, and I am so happy to be here, in Los Angeles, but it’s made me realize that I made the right choice with the New York of it all. My beautiful New York life that I’ll be back to so soon.
We’re back at their apartment now & Max asked me if I’ve seen the show Neighbors yet.“No, I don’t have HBO.” I responded. He says, “You would love it, just use my account.” So he gives me his HBO login & I did in fact love Neighbors and as I recap this I am two seasons into Girls & am loving that too. Beloved blog reader, please give me recommendations on what else I should watch, now that this new door has been unlocked for me.
Waiting for ******** to pick me up. ******** & I are friends from college. Most of my college friends moved out of Florida towards Los Angeles after graduation. Los Angeles reminds me so much of life in Florida, with the year round summers & familiar faces that I adore.
******** & I met up with our other college friend **** and:
went to the Silver Lake flea market
went to In & Out (my request)
went to the mall (random)
Haven’t seen either of these girls since graduation, but it’s like we met up and picked up exactly where we left off. Strange to think that we by chance met in college and because we just happened to be at the right place at the right time, at the same school in close proximity of one another, now these are my adult friendships that I hold near & dear. If I had gone to a different school or picked a different major or didn’t move into that house with Boy Roommates, none of this would exist.
Next Day
It’s 8 am & I’m parallel on the couch of ********’s West Hollywood apartment, petting her cat, Cake. LA has been Cat World Utopia. ***** and her roommates have 3, Max & Ella have 2, & ******* has this one. Meowzers.
Voice Memo
I’m walking down Wilshire on my way to the Peterson Automobile Museum. It is so beautiful out & the jacaranda petals are sprinkled all over the sidewalk. Stopping to take a photo of my shoes & the petals right now. Anyways, I slept over at ********’s last night, and now I’m on my way to meet up with a 60 year old man who I am going to name Harold. Harold and I met on this website called Workaway which is just a way to find gig work- I figured that this would be a good thing to do while I’m on the road.
Scoffs "On the road” Whatever. Well you know what I mean. While I’m doing this traveling thing, I figured it would be nice to find odd jobs like house sitting, farm work, stuff like that. Did I do any of that? No. Well I did apply to work at this one farm in Montana, but I think that they took one look at my stupid selfie profile picture and yeah, that one didn’t happen. But I told all my friends I was like, “Yeah I’m gonna work at this farm in Montana for a week or two.” And they were like, “Oh that’s sick.” And then the Montana farm wasn’t all that interested in having me.
BUT Harold. Harold is interested. And I am also potentially interested. I came across Harold’s profile where the deal is that I can probably crash at his Mid City studio apartment for free for the next few weeks, and all I’d have to do is feed the stray kitties on his block. He uploaded a bunch of pictures and detailed instructions of each of the stray cats and I feel like this could be my ideal gig. So I messaged Harold the first night I got to LA and he immediately responds with a, “If you find yourself in LA soon, I would love to show you around” and I go, “well funnily enough I am actually in LA right now.” And he responds, “Okay, perfect. Do you want to meet up & go to a museum & get lunch & go to the beach & then come back to my apartment to check out the kitties?” And I responded, “YES!” So now I am on my way to meet up with Harold at the museum.
I do realize that this is textbook, what-not-to-do-as-a-girl-solo-traveling behavior, but I am justifying my lack of safety with the fact that 1. we are meeting up in a public space 2. my friends track my location and could potentially rescue me if things go awry 3. if things don’t go awry, free LA apartment here I come.
Keep joking to everyone that I'm about to be bicoastal, since Harold’s profile says that he often travels for work and is looking for someone reliable to take care of the cats whenever he’s gone.
RECAP
When I arrive at the museum, Harold purchases us two premium tickets to explore the ground floor, where all the rarest cars from Hollywood are locked away. Pretended to be very fascinated for the first hour but then gave up 200 cars in. How the hell do I get myself out of here? Stayed engaged because I want to crash at his Mid-City bungalow so bad, but my hopes are dwindling because he is a bit more unfettered than I anticipated. I can’t get a good read on him.
Is the possibility of a free LA apartment worth hours of my life being spent walking around the Peterson Automobile Museum, talking to Harold about nothing but his Segway? All Harold wants to do is talk about his Segway. I will ask him questions about the kitties, my job responsibilities, his neighborhood, himself. But he keeps just changing the topic back to his Segway. He goes, “I am fine with you staying in my apartment, but my only apprehension here lies in the probability of you getting hurt on the Segway, and then I would be liable, but I don’t know what you would do without using my Segway.” He says this in a distressed tone. I responded that I have reliable transportation and probably wouldn’t need his Seg- and he cuts me off “NO. You would need my Segway, it’s vital to your Los Angeles experience. You can’t get around here without one.” I tell him that my best friends actually live nearby and would be able to drive me, but his concern just lies in the Segway of it all.
We are three hours into walking around the Automobile Museum when I tell Harold that there’s a change in my plans & that I now need to attend a birthday party tonight! So I’m no longer able to drive to the beach & back to his apartment with him. I offer to still come to The Grove to get lunch, but I tell him, it’s so nice outside, you don’t need to drive us, let’s just walk! So he leaves his car parked at the museum & the two of us walk a mile down Fairfax together towards The Grove. We spend the walk chatting about his Segway some more. I asked him, “What do you do for work to be able to travel?” And he responds, “I don’t actually travel for work, I just put that on my profile ‘cause I have out-of-town business I need to take care of for the few weeks that you’d be cat sitting.”
We’ve arrived at the outdoor shopping plaza now with all these various vendors & are on the hunt for lunch & beers & a good time.
We’re sitting at a round picnic table & Harold orders us two pints of craft beers and lets me pick out whatever I want from whichever vendor. He buys us pretzels & coffee’s & empanadas & I get a bag of dark chocolate dipped apricots & pieces of raw honeycomb.
Now our date is over and I’m back home at *****’s, where Harold is spam texting me lots of links to Los Angeles Segway tours.
Instead of walking around the Venice beach boardwalk with Harold, I am now walking around a Thai food festival with Max, Ella, and redacted. I am recounting to them the story of what just went down this morning. Redacted asked me why I did that and I told him that it seemed like a good idea in the moment because I got blinded by the possibility of a free LA apartment.
He pauses for a moment & goes, “Well if you still want a place to stay in LA for a few weeks... I kinda want to be in New York for a bit so that I can tattoo out there. What if we apartment swapped?”
Redacted lives in a Silver Lake studio that’s on the same street as Max & Ella & redacted. The four of them are all neighbors, so if I agree to this offer, I would also be neighbors with Max, Ella, and redacted this summer. Would that be crazy? Us, apartment swapping? The idea didn’t even cross my mind until his proposition, but now it kinda feels like the perfect opportunity just fell into my lap.
The point of house swapping is to hole up & write, away from my New York distractions for a bit. But I can’t hole up & write if my Los Angeles distractions (best friends & redacted) are neighboring me, because then I’ll just want to play. Well, play with Max & Ella, avoid redacted.
I just need more willpower this summer. I want to do this, I just need to muster up my willpower.
Train to Albuquerque
Katie texted me the link to a song (Stranger by Smog) and said,
******** said that you might like this one.
I pressed play as my train left the station, whisking me away from the city of angels, and on cue the waterworks began. Dramaticá.
As if I won’t literally be right back. As if Max & Ella won’t be in Brooklyn in the next 72 hours.
I just love it here so much, it hurts. I love my life here. I love my friends here. I love that I have somewhere to miss so much. Trudging along through the San Bernardino valley. My phone is on 6% and my charger is in my purse, but since I have wired headphones, my options are charge my phone or listen to a song and I am choosing listen to a song. Using the last drip of my battery to look out the window and replay I was a stranger on a loop until my phone dies.
I was a stranger
When I came to town
Just yesterday
I was a stranger
They don't come much stranger
LA feels so good. LA is a big gulp of sparkling water and a smooch from the sun and a jacaranda petal between my fingertips. I can’t live here yet because coming to visit only feels more indulgent when I have time & space to miss it more. Would hate to get used to it, I think. Want to extend my Los Angeles honeymoon phase into eternity.
It’s later in the evening & I am taking teeny tiny nibbles out of an edible that I purchased back in Oklahoma, readying myself for bed. Bed being: sitting upright in the train chair at a slight recline with a neck pillow & my big dress to cuddle up with as my makeshift blanket. Changed out of my corduroys & quarter sleeve and into my pajamas, kicking off my flats. I’m being very cautious with this edible ‘cause the guy who sold it to me laughed when he took one look at me with the packet in my hand and asked, Are you a lightweight? To which I nodded my head vigorously and he laughed harder, practically doubling over, and he said Okay, maybe just take half sweetheart, and then he started laughing EVEN HARDER. What the hell was that?
That interaction alone made me nervous enough that the nibbles I am taking are microscopic & will probably be ineffective at making me feel anything at all. We’re traveling through a mountainous area & my ears are popping and my evil iPhone has no signal. I don’t care enough to describe my surroundings. My surroundings aren’t really affecting me much. I just want to be stoned and phone scroll TBH, but I have no signal so I’m typing this out into my notes app instead. I’m trying to figure out if I am stoned or not but the answer is probably or not and if I think about it too hard then I’ll stress myself out.
However long later. STONED. STONED AND ALONE. Stoooooooned. Diana is stoned. I took one nibble too many and now I’m stoned on the train. What is my brain thinking about? Oh okay his giggles make sense now.
Typing this out at 10:00 pm on the dot. Let’s see how I type when I am stoned. I am currently replaying the song that Katie sent me that she said ******** thought I would like. ******* is Katie’s friend whose house we stayed at, ‘cause Katie kinda lives out in the sticks with her parents, and we wanted to be in the bustle of downtown Madison. Paused my headphones ‘cause I can’t write and listen to music at the same time. I want to get tested for ADHD. I love adderall. And I can’t keep a train of thought. The lady in front of me is snoring so loudly and the lady next to me is watching Youtube Shorts and laughing stupidly loud and my typing is clacking away. Oh yeah, Harold the old guy had a funny one liner that I scribbled in my notes. He goes, “man, those Youtube Shorts are just too addicting!” And then it was like, back to talking about his segway.
FUCK. I want to fill up my water bottle but the fountain is actually miles away. Oh my god it is so far away. I want to brush my teeth and wash my face and run a brush through my hair and take out my contacts but I can’t get up can’t get up can’t get up. Too stoned. In a good way. I feel kinda zen. I also feel kinda on top of the World. God I love LA God I love LA God I love LA
I keep talking in 3’s 3’s 3’s
I stopped doing that and broke the cycle. It’s now 10:05 pm. 5 minutes from 10
Tomorrow I am heading to Albuquerque New Mexico and staying with ******, a Blog reader. Wow I really want water. Wait I also have to pee. Fuck. Oh my god why is everything miles away.
Oh yeah, I love LA ‘cause of the kismet of it all. Well I love World ‘cause of the kismet of it all. The butterfly effect of it all. 10 years ago, World led me to Boy Roommate 1 who 5 years later led me to Boy Roommate 2 who 4 years later introduced me to redacted. Redacted who just so happens to be Boy Roommate 2’s neighbor in LA and just so happens to
FUCK I WANT WATER
Who just so happens to
Wait I think it’d be cute if I redacted sentence.
Okay anyways, redacted, who just so happens to have a gorgeous studio apartment in Los Angeles & is a tattoo artist who wants to work in New York and I am a …. who wants to be in Los Angeles and redacted goes, “What if we apartment swapped?”
I like being stoned because I can feel whatever I want to feel. Can feel sooooo slow ‘cause normally I feel rapid rapid rapid.
Right now I feel sooooo slow
Manifesting that I make it to my destination safe & sound. Amen.
11:34. Still stoned. Going to bed and took out my contacts and got my neck pillow from the overhead and couldn’t find my eye mask but it’s okay because I’m gonna squeeze my eyes real tight and dive into a deep, deep slumber. Okay goodnight World. I love you.
I am so proud of myself. I made really good decisions this week. I was good in LA. I did a good job being a good friend.
Next Day
Woke up 15 minutes before I was supposed to deboard this train and looked down at my lap to find that I consumed 3 king sized Mr. Beast chocolate bars last night in the heat of the moment.
Albuquerque
******, the girl who is hosting me in Albuquerque, was waiting to pick me up at train station in her little silver Toyota. Excitedly told her that I used to drive a little silver Toyota. We exchanged greetings & I tossed my backpack into her trunk. She sped us over to a cafe where a gorgeous barista complimented my shoes & I complimented her essence. Sat down in the backyard patio of the coffee shop where I gulped down a cortado & ****** drank an iced cold brew. Have been on my cortado kick this month because I am a coffee freak and it is the perfect ratio of espresso to milk.
****** & I walk around the downtown area, popping into thrift stores & souvenir shops. I purchased a blue crossbody laptop bag and tried on a million skirts that I left behind. We drive over to a hiking trail where we do a two mile loop and I keep making us stop to take photos. Feeling annoying but the view is so gorgeous. The photos that I am taking are mediocre at best but I just can’t stop my rapid fire finger to iPhone camera shutter button, click, click, click, click, click, click, sorry I promise I’m like almost done, click, click, click, click, wait could you take some photos of me too low-key, click, click, click, wow that flower is so beautiful, wow everything about this is so beautiful, click, click, click, click, would you mind filming me for my Vlog? click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click. Okay, I think I’m done now, sorry about that. Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click.
****** is very chill about my ridiculous behavior (thank you World) and she is kinda, the best. “It’s nice seeing this all through a fresh set of eyes, how new it all is to you.” She says in response to my apologizing for having us stop every 30 seconds on the hike to take a picture of a cacti or a flower or a selfie or the mountains in the distance.
Albuquerque Notes
Mouth is so dry
The air is so dry here
Omg we are speed walking this trail
I feel like if I take like 10 more selfies I will find my money shot but I don’t want to be annoying and make us stop anymore than we already have been
I took 10 more selfies and hated all of them
She told me a story about a date she took on this trail who threw up from the physical exertion and I feel like it’s gonna be me next ‘cause wow I am not feeling so hot. Can’t selfie in these conditions.
We got back to ******’s house & attempted to watch Breaking Bad to get into the New Mexico spirit but neither of us have Netflix so instead we logged into Max’s HBO and pressed play on Neighbors. AMAZING.
eyes are threatening to shut, but I need to rally
trying to keep myself from eating all of her popcorn but she has a massive Costco sized bag of Boom Chicka Pop that’s going into my mouth by the handful at a crazy rate
Feeling annoying ‘cause I keep asking her to take so many pictures of me but it is so beautiful here & I need so many pictures.
Dry, dry
ArizonaNew Mexico heat. Makes me feel like I have chronic dry mouth. Realizing as I edit this in Brooklyn that I think I accidentally kept calling New Mexico, Arizona. No I definitely did keep doing that. That’s really funny. I kept calling Chicago, Boston too. God I’ve had a month.
Day Two
I woke up and gasped at what I saw in the mirror. Like immediately understood why sorority girls in Arizona have the beautiful girl trope. I’ve never felt so beautiful, maybe ever. My skin is glowing & my hair is shiny & I feel like a New Mexico 10, New York 6. Something about that desert air. Oh wait, this is going to be bad. Gonna be another selfie-pocalyse on my end that ****** will have to endure.
Taking selfies in ******’s bathroom mirror while she makes us stovetop homemade chai’s. Lots of whole milk ‘cause she’s native to Wisconsin. So delish. We drank our chai’s at the dining table & I changed out of my pajamas and into my brown corduroys & a black LA Apparel tank top.
She’s wearing this cute knit sweater and denim cutoffs and a little braid tied with a light pink elastic. She reminds me of my old friend Lo. Black wispy hair and words that roll off her tongue so effortlessly.
This is the most scenic environment I’ve been in this month- what a beautiful final note to have. We’re driving up a mountain & listening to Mac Demarco and I feel 16 again. Mountains & rivers & creeks & clay formations & tumbleweeds & cacti & views my eyes have never bore witness to before are passing us by. Everything feels so novel and amazing and the company of ****** makes the experience all the more richer.
Love how houses in New Mexico look. The stucco & the cacti. She decorated her home so cutely. There’s a large framed photo of Anthony Bourdain in the office next to the kitchen. I like the skylight in her bathroom and her evil kitty named Hillary that nips at you. Love how many kitties I’ve been meeting this week, this month, this trip. I want to be back in New York. I want to escape my life in New York and start fresh in LA. I want to keep going, going, going. I want to run away. I want to plant roots. I am so exhausted and a bit delirious but I need to rally because I have a busy first week back in the city.
****** & I are sitting on the couch and watching another episode of Neighbors. I leave for the airport in 20 minutes. Pit in my stomach.New Mexico has been the perfect kiss goodbye. A friend from New York just texted me as as I wrote that out. It’s an offer for me to crash at her place in Texas for a bit, if I’m planning on still traveling.
So tempting… I need to go home. I don’t need to go home, I would like to keep going, but all my favorite people are going to be in New York in the next 48 hours and the fomo would kill me. Ella & I were talking about Garrett the other day, about how he is constantly traveling back and forth between New York and Florida, because he doesn’t want to miss out on anything in the two worlds. She goes, “That man lives in a constant state of fomo.” Him & me both.
I want to go to Texas and I have unfinished business in LA but in due time… In due time I will be exactly where I need to be, but right now I am here, and here is nice.
****** drops me off at the Albuquerque airport and I get through TSA in less than a minute. I am sitting by my gate, backpack at my feet, a bottle of sparkling water in my lap. Headphones are in my ears & I am listening to Sword II on a loop. Can’t believe that I am about to sleep in my own bed tonight. Well I land at 6 in the morning but the morning will be spent in my own bed.
Watched the movie Amélie on my flight home & thought about my Amelie. Got off my flight and onto the train, onto the platform to my next train, out onto the sidewalk of my neighborhood, down a few blocks & up a few steps to my apartment, down the hallway into my bedroom, into my glorious king sized bed.
It’s 7 am & Jude & I are deliriously rambling about our adventures this month. A half hearted attempt at catching up was had before I turned to my side and said, Okay lets debrief in like, 3 hours. and they said YES & we fell into deep slumbers and that was that. Back to my New York life I go.
It's my lunch break again and Diana posted again and her words are my perfect company again. If you ever travel the Eurostar be sure to stop by (not in a creepy way)