So today, as I was sitting in traffic on my way to work, I began to wonder if the circumstances at hand-the ridiculous traffic in LA in general for example-are the product of poor planning, a person's set of beliefs, or the result of trying to do something completely unnatural.
I mean, think about it. Anything that is unnatural, like riding in cars to work in a place not walking distance from home, it seems to me is bound to be difficult to pull off. That seems more practical than I created the traffic and the fact that it took me an hour to get to work. I wish I did, but I don't believe I can control that. But maybe that's the problem. We all believe that the traffic in LA in horrible, and therefore it is. Who started this horrible rumor that became reality? He or she should be shot-no that's awful. Just given a good swift kick. Let's focus on the opposite please. Could we all get behind that? PLEASE! This is getting out of hand.
I think it is rather funny-the situations that we humans get ourselves into. I mean, I am no one to talk. I mean I have managed to live in two sets of the most unnatural circumstances I could have ever imagined. It was never in my realm of possibilities that these types of places could even exist. I mean initially, they seemed to be the perfect places to live. Exactly what I wanted. Now, I am thinking I need to be more specific when I ask for what I want.
The first, well, it was large, close to a nice neighborhood, cheap. Just right. It was a slanted house that was practically underneath the BQE. That's the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway for those of you who are not familiar with the highways and biways of NYC. Yes, I lived under a HIGHWAY. A very large, smelly highway. Oh, and I forgot to mention that this little house happened to be across from another very large, smelly entity. A waste transfer facility. Now, I didn't know that these lovely things existed, but they do. And boy, was that fun when it was 100 degrees in July. Whoo wee. I wouldn't wish it on anyone else. So, not surprisingly, we had mice and some of their larger cousins-rats. This place just kept getting better and better. See, completely unnatural and therefore became completely unsanitary and downright disgusting and not good for humans or anything else except rodents. God bless landlords and the things they neglect to mention.
Now, after leaving this place there was a relatively normal apartment in my reality and then the Rainforest happened. Again, I managed to find exactly what I wanted. A little spanish cottage (actually its a guesthouse) with a garden and fountain. Close to work. Secluded. Feels like heaven. The landlord, God bless him, was concerned about whether or not I, or my husband, would have a problem with the fact that he is gay. Of course not! That was a no brainer. He is a lovely man. No issues with his personal sexual preferences. It seemed like a match made in heaven.
Well, as I was cleaning the place-after I had signed the lease, I came to discover a few things. First, my husbands mother, googled our landlord and discovered that we are in fact living on a compound called (we'll call it the Amazon because that is what it feels like), where my landlord breeds and sells exoctic housecats. Yep. There are almost 50 of them on the property. And they are, we'll say, unusual and well. essentially feral. (though I am sure my landlord would argue that point) They are in cages all over the property. I find it amusing that he was concerned about my reaction to his sexual preference more than the large number of seemingly wild cats living on the property. No kidding, it really feels like the rainforest because they growl and howl all the time. Oh, and, I also come to find out, later of course, not from my landlord, that there are other people living on the property in trailors. One was a witchy women type who collected rain water to bath in and believed "wood people" lived on the property. Her eensy dog Hershel lived with her and was scared shitless of everyone but her. She was kind enough to show me around the property, and consequently, I also come to find out that we have a smorgasbord of fruit trees. Persimmons grow on trees. Imagine that. Well, they do-in the rainforest I live in. There are also mimosas and grapefruit and lemons or limes maybe. God knows what else. She's now been replaced by a young man whose name I cannot remember.
Then there was a young man living in another trailer on the property who took care of the cats. He's gone now. Been replaced with another young man who also handles cleaning up the garden in exchange for living on the property. Oh, and I musn't forget Sergei the large Russian man with a pitbull named Core. It took a little time, but he got used us. He was quite sweet really when you got over being terrified he might bite your leg off. Hugely disrespected and misunderstood breed. Sergei spoke to the dog in Russian and would follow it up with a few air smooches. He lived in the main house. He's gone now too-got engaged-and is to be replaced by God knows who.
We still live in the Rainforest with its strange and unnatural circumstances and simply because we signed a lease and its a giant pain in the ass to move. (we're working on it-shhhh;)
Everything about this situation is unnatural at least for me. Maybe it just boils down to being honest with each other and with yourself about what you need to be satisfied. Though it has become home.
But back to the original point. I know I created these two places. The slanted house and the rainforest. I wanted exactly what I got. But the secret says that you shouldn't say what you don't want. Only what you do want. So that's what I did. It's confusing. Should I include, no trash facility, no highways, no cat breeding. Seems like the universe was playing a joke on me with this. I did ask for what I wanted and I got surrounded by crazy shit. I guess I shouldn't perpetuate that idea either. God, this is complicated. Crazy to me, but its true. Poor planning had nothing to do with it. Specificity had everything to do with it. Funny, its the same in acting. lack of specificity and lack of choices are a death sentence.
I just want a normal and beautiful place to live, with lots of light, and a garden, lots of space, really cheap, really safe and hip neighborhood and no landlord. I guess I want my own home. I think I am going to visualize and get really specific. Can't hurt.
Anyway, I have also shamefully perpetuated the reality that LA traffic is bad-really bad. I must stop that. Come on. Everyone now: "LA is so easy to get around. The roads are clear and open, light traffic." Shout it from the rooftops!!!
Maybe we should think about doing that with Global Warming.
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