I have very little money. I'm waiting on maybe 3 unpaid checks, and then that's it. No more money coming into the account de Rebecca. Which means I literally can't afford to live. Not with rent, insurance, and other bills. I've been scouring for jobs... I applied for jobs here in LA, back home in VA, and all over the Northwest (my dream area). So far, I've gotten lots of "thank you for your interest, your application has been placed in a pool to be considered. Please do not respond to this email" and empty answers, lots of "we're fully staffed but you're welcome to submit an application" and "we've already filled the position you've applied for." I was rejected from the DGA, and Teaching Fellows in both New York and Oakland. It's been a rough month. (Note: I actually just get offered a job at a summer tech camp in VA. yay!).
For those of you who say I need to be "reckless": I've spent the last 2 years being reckless. Before moving to LA (an adventure in itself that could be considered, by some, "reckless"), I was such a goody goody. I just re-read my journal from my study abroad... I wanted to punch myself in the face. And that's only from 3 years ago. While I'm still much more tame than others, I'm not so pure and innocent anymore. I've kissed more boys in the past 2 years than I had in the entirety of my life before LA. I've worked part-time jobs and could barely pay rent. LA has broken my naivete and optimism.
I'm not one to admit failure easily. I'm actually terrified of it. But LA and I have failed each other.
Don't get me wrong: the idea of moving home scares the daylights out of me as well. I haven't lived with my Mom for more than a few weeks since I was right out of high school. Though we've both matured, we do better on the phone than we do in person. So the thought of giving up, moving back in my Mom, facing my high school friends all over again after two years of independence in LA... it kind of freaks me out. There goes that independence I was so proud of, fought so hard for. And yea, leaving LA will be hard. I'll miss the music, the people, the elbow brushing. I'll miss the availability of opportunity. I'll miss the film industry that I've so come to hate. But home will be an adventure, too. I haven't lived in Richmond since I was 18. I didn't enjoy the vintage and artistic streets of the Fan, the history of downtown, the beautiful setting against the James River, the Southern roots in a city many Northerners forget was once the capital of the Confederacy, the capital of the South. Home is where my Mom is and where my Grandparents are, both of whom need me right now.
So Home isn't giving up in an all-encompassing sense of the phrase. Home is going to be hard. Moving home is being brave, admitting that I need a change (something my stubborn self isn't always prone to do). Will I regret it? Possibly. But I'd just as easily regret staying.
And home is NOT a permanent thing. It's a chance for me to catch up, to save, to be nurtured a bit.
When I was younger, I dreamed of a life of difference. I feared growing up and becoming my mother, as so many of us do. I didn't want the small town life with a humdrum job. I wanted adventure and excitement. I wanted fame and fortune. As I've grown older, my views have changed. I see the world of the entertainment industry everyday, and it's not a life I want anymore. As a kid, I didn't see the real life behind it. I don't want 18 hour days and unhappy marriages. I don't want glitzy parties and tabloid fodder. I want a family, a home, and to make a real difference, if only in a few lives.
And who knows, maybe I'll change my mind in 5 years and move back to LA. But right now, I've got to make a change. So LA, you have two weeks.
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