Hello LA

I didn't know exactly how to feel about returning to L.A.- my years there had been filled with bliss, misery, chaos, parties, cars being stolen, more parties, more bliss, more misery, and lots and lots of vodka. I wasn't sure I wanted to experience any of the above for the twenty-four hours that I'd be there; a mere taste might send me spiraling back down the rabbit hole.

Our drive in was definitely the bliss part of the visit; sunshine filling the car, Gwen Stefani pumping as we cruised along the beaches of Malibu. Then it was Santa Monica; I introduced Courtney to the Third Street Promenade and some of my favorite vintage shops, and it was all fabulous, but at the same time I could feel the over-stimulation rising. I almost left my wallet behind in Peet's Coffee and Courtney raised her eyebrows.

"You know, I'm only going to be with you another two days, Liz," she said. "After that, you're on your own."

We stayed at the Orbit Hostel on Melrose and met up with my dear friend Shevin for sushi, and afterwards did more walking in one evening than most Los Angelenos do in a month. It was probably a subconscious desire on my part, since I had absolutely no desire anymore to carouse or make idle shouted chit-chat in a bar or club.

We did eventually go back to a trendy bar, and bought 11 dollar drinks, and stood around, and everything that had once seemed glittery and exciting seemed hollow and sad. Back at the hostel I began to panic about money, and where I was going to live, and the past and present and future unknown. I knew the feelings couldn't be resolved until I was actually in San Francisco in person, and able to take action, but still.... somehow it felt better to worry.