Eighteen months ago today I moved to LA

Back in May, when I was having serious freak-outs over turning 30 and felt like the man without a country or at least the girl without a neighborhood bar, Bonnie shared with me the following:

The first time I moved to LA, I remember someone telling me it would take 18 months for me to feel like I could call LA home.

I left after 13 months, having never really felt like it was home (and the Northridge Earthquake didn't hurt either).

True enough, when I came back to LA "this time," I stuck it out those first 18 months and, amazingly, that's about when it really clicked for me.

I don't dare say that LA has miraculously clicked for me, at least any more than it did when it cast its seductive spell the first time I came here; but I will say that the past few months have been nothing short of fantastic. Granted, I was traveling during those months, and maybe what I like more than being in any one city is feeling so busy that I don't have time to mull over my age or the meaning of life, but I do feel like some things have changed.

For one, I have planted some roots. People I was only been peripherally close with in the spring have become good friends. I've made more personal connections that aren't anything I'd want to walk away from. A few months ago I often felt like I had to really work to keep my life going, to keep things interesting. Now I feel that my earth is easily spinning on its own axis, with nary a nudge from me.

Buying the bed last week was, mentally, a big deal. I have held off on a lot of big purchases since my move, not so much because of the money, but because I was really afraid to invest a lot in this apartment, in this life. What if I decide to leave it all tomorrow? I'm still a good ways away from investing in good bedroom furniture, from buying that second TV, from getting TiVo, but I am coming to terms with the idea that this is my home.

That's not to say that I see myself here forever or that I don't forsee another low period down the road, where I miss my family terribly and want nothing more than be back east enjoying storybook fall foliage. I most likely will go back east, in three years, five years, or whenever I get sick of LA. Because I know myself and trust me, I will get sick of it. But for the moment, I'm enjoying the "now", and am ready to stop worrying about the "what if's".