Lost...

WARNING: This is not a happy post. It’s not light-hearted and positive, like the others. It’s actually a little depressing. Don’t judge me. It’s hard to have your entire plan of action uprooted suddenly. Look at the effect it had on Sarah Palin.

Haha. Sorry, that was me being slightly facetious. Anyways, don't be harsh. I'm pretty sure I'll be back to my bubbly, light hearted self tomorrow, but tonight, I need to vent a little. So, here we go:

From the moment the decision to stay was made, I felt one overwhelming emotion: relief. Relief that we were not going to pay a ridiculous amount of money to live in underwhelming conditions, relief that I would not be moving thousands of miles away from my family and friends, relief that I got to hold on to the familiar, the comfortable. But as the weeks have moved on, the relief has faded, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste of uncertainty. I had a set path, a plan, a goal that I was working towards when California was in the forecast. Although I was a little nervous about the unknown, and very unsettled about the costs, I had a purpose. And now, I’m disoriented, set adrift from my steady, albeit treacherous, course. The sense of accomplishment that accompanied graduation has suddenly derailed as I realize that I’m still almost as unqualified for the job that I’m seeking as I was when I started. I still have so much further to go, and the way to get there has suddenly hit a dead end. I have to turn around, make my way back, take a different fork, and start applying for Master’s/Doctoral programs for next year.

Pray for me, guys. This lost feeling is much worse than the nervousness I felt about LA. Finding a steady footing on a wall of ifs seems impossible. But although the competent, capable feelings of a college graduate did not come in the mail with my college diploma, as I expected, this ambiguity will pass. The hubs is taking the MCAT in the fall, and we’re both applying to graduate schools this winter. I know that with these steps will come some certainty, and I will be able to evict this unsettled feeling from the pit of my stomach. 

In which I admit something of which I am very ashamed

Ok, so it has been almost a month a long time since I have blogged. I have a really good reason for it, though. Can you guess which one?

A) I got tired/bored of blogging and just forgot. (A lot of people do this, I think, because I went through about a dozen names for this blog before I decided on this one, and they were all taken. Some examples: Frankly, My Dear [after my favorite movie]; Los Angeles, I'm Yours; LdotAdot, and so on. Do you see how annoying this might be for me, who really wants to use the name, but can't, because someone forgot to deactivate their blog when they realized they weren't using it anymore? And no, Blogger, I don't want to use the web address losangelesimyours291597435973549850850854.blogspot.com. I just want my own personal name!!!!) Ok, sorry about that huge rant. Moving on.

B) I watched the Cirque du Freak movie with John C. Reilly and was so inspired that I joined the circus. Therefore I have very limited internet access because I am constantly moving from city to city, swallowing swords and hanging from trapezes and such.

C) The hubs and I have decided not to move to California. I was so ashamed of posting this after starting a blog whose sole purpose was to document my path to LA that I put it off for weeks. WEEKS.

If you guessed C, you'd be correct (although I did watch Cirque du Freak and John C. Reilly was amazing). I'm......not moving to LA. And because I am so ashamed to tell all of my blog readers this, I decided to write LA a letter instead. The city is very forgiving, you know.


Dear Los Angeles,
We tried, we really did. But the fact is, as much as I want to be with you, I'm just not ready to make the sacrifices required. I would have to give up almost everything I have, just because of a choice which was mostly based off of my romanticized dreams of what you would be like. Someday, when I have a real, adult job, we can be together. But it's just not feasible now.


Making the decision to stay with Missouri was so difficult. Every time I remember something that I was specifically looking forward to about you, it pulls at my heart. Knowing that winter here is going to be bitterly cold, and that I am going to spend it pale and bundled, rather than stretched out on your mild beaches, depresses me. My stomach aches for Pinkberry and the low-fat yumminess it promises. Tell Ikea and Anthropologie that I will miss them dearly (but I have a feeling I wouldn't see much of Anthropologie anyways, because all of my money would be going to you).


Secretly, though, I think my family disapproved of you. You weren't what they wanted for my life. You were too dangerous and unpredictable. You've wooed many other women with your golden sands and promises of celebrity sightings only to break their hearts with disappointment and unemployment. I know they're happier this way.


I hope we can still be friends for now. I will visit as often as possible. I can't commit to you just yet, but I will someday. Wait for me, Los Angeles.


I remain, as always, yours,
Monica