Waiter, I'll have the sacrificial lamb and the bittersweet just desserts
I am fascinated by the passing of time. I think it started when I was forced to graduate from the comfort of college and move into the grown-up working world, where fraternity parties only existed between million dollar corporations. A fish out of water, I longed for my former life, and thus became obsessed with what I had been doing exactly a year ago to the day. My first August in the city brought memories of the first days of senior year when I'd get wasted with my friends at the bars; December recalled dating Brock and getting wasted with my friends at the formal; in March it was dating Alex and getting wasted with my friends at DKE. For the record: I drank a lot in college, but it hasn't seemed to affect my memory a bit. Now what was I saying?
Even though I eventually grew happier in the city, I never stopped comparing my life at the time to the life of a year prior. We all do it to some extent - otherwise we wouldn't be talking about 4 years after September 11th, or 25 years after John Lennon was killed. But evidence that I do this with some degree of OCD can be seen on this blog, where single every month I find cause to say, "x months ago today I moved to LA". (By the way, 9 months ago today I really DID move to LA. Ha! Like how I fit that in?) I guess I feel the need to mark even the most trivial of anniversaries with some recognition, for fear that if I don't, the memories will be lost forever. And even bad memories are better than no memories, because they serve as a reminder as to how far we've come.
As my life has improved over the last nine months, I often find myself looking back to a year ago with relief that I escaped that existence - the tiny apartment, the miserable work environment, the hassles of living in what's often considered to be the toughest city in the world. I again found myself feeling that way on Friday, when we had our office holiday party. Last year's holiday lunch was two hours of tension-filled torture, a power struggle between interoffice cliques and genuine distaste for the company. In comparison, Friday's party was less a forced affair and more like lunch with 13 of my closest friends. I marveled at my luck to find a job where everyone in the company is nice, the environment is supportive, and we all not only get along, but actually like each other.
The irony is that the warm and fuzzy day quickly felt empty, as soon as the party was over and I was alone again. Oh, I had plans - my weekend was booked solid, in fact - but not with the people I would have necessarily chosen a year ago. After last year's miserable holiday lunch, I found solace in my cousin's annual holiday party where I saw familiar faces, then met Kristin out for a late night of - what else - drinking, peppered with a rousing rendition of Christmas carols. And that's the thing - with as many friends as I have made in LA, there is no one with whom I'd want to be singing Christmas carols at 3 AM.
A year ago we were all living in the same city. While I thought I understood the sacrifice I was making to move here, I guess I underestimated how hard it would be to actually do so. I suppose we all make sacrifices for the things that we want, but at what price, Christmas carols? Surprise 30th birthday parties? Being there for a best friend's engagement? Will it have been worth it? I'll let you know a year from now.
Even though I eventually grew happier in the city, I never stopped comparing my life at the time to the life of a year prior. We all do it to some extent - otherwise we wouldn't be talking about 4 years after September 11th, or 25 years after John Lennon was killed. But evidence that I do this with some degree of OCD can be seen on this blog, where single every month I find cause to say, "x months ago today I moved to LA". (By the way, 9 months ago today I really DID move to LA. Ha! Like how I fit that in?) I guess I feel the need to mark even the most trivial of anniversaries with some recognition, for fear that if I don't, the memories will be lost forever. And even bad memories are better than no memories, because they serve as a reminder as to how far we've come.
As my life has improved over the last nine months, I often find myself looking back to a year ago with relief that I escaped that existence - the tiny apartment, the miserable work environment, the hassles of living in what's often considered to be the toughest city in the world. I again found myself feeling that way on Friday, when we had our office holiday party. Last year's holiday lunch was two hours of tension-filled torture, a power struggle between interoffice cliques and genuine distaste for the company. In comparison, Friday's party was less a forced affair and more like lunch with 13 of my closest friends. I marveled at my luck to find a job where everyone in the company is nice, the environment is supportive, and we all not only get along, but actually like each other.
The irony is that the warm and fuzzy day quickly felt empty, as soon as the party was over and I was alone again. Oh, I had plans - my weekend was booked solid, in fact - but not with the people I would have necessarily chosen a year ago. After last year's miserable holiday lunch, I found solace in my cousin's annual holiday party where I saw familiar faces, then met Kristin out for a late night of - what else - drinking, peppered with a rousing rendition of Christmas carols. And that's the thing - with as many friends as I have made in LA, there is no one with whom I'd want to be singing Christmas carols at 3 AM.
A year ago we were all living in the same city. While I thought I understood the sacrifice I was making to move here, I guess I underestimated how hard it would be to actually do so. I suppose we all make sacrifices for the things that we want, but at what price, Christmas carols? Surprise 30th birthday parties? Being there for a best friend's engagement? Will it have been worth it? I'll let you know a year from now.
Labels: friends, Los Angeles, New York
posted by Lori @ 12:42 PM
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