[Insert Cliche About Home Here]
Greetings from Los Angeles.
First, some favorite quotes that made me feel right at home:
While getting ready, I mentioned to Carrie that my friend Bruno might be coming out. Carrie asked who he was, and as I gave details to remind her, she said: "Oh, right. Hot guy. In that case: lipliner."
Tania: "At this point in our lives, girls, we can't afford to be picky."
As 24-year-old Sean told us of a girl he met at a bar who kept a flying squirrel in her bra: Tania: "Excuse me. What's your name again?" Sean: "Sean." Tania: "Sean -- you're lying."
At Swingers, I came back from the bathroom to find the guy who'd moved to make room for us at the bar gone. Me: "Where'd he go?" Joel: "Gus had to leave. He said goodbye." Me: "His name's Bobby."
Just as I'm about to fall asleep, Carrie popped out of her room and called down the hallway: "Pam. I just realized. I can't date the 24-year-old. ...His last name's Barry."
It is, as always, fabulous, weird, and only slightly surreal to be back in my pseudo-home of LA. Whenever I come back, I feel this odd mix of I totally don't belong here with It feels like I never left. (To be fair, for the eight years I lived here, I often felt like I didn't belong here at all, and I just as often felt like I belonged nowhere else.) Driving home from Swingers at 3 in the morning, in my head I was going back to 1050 Shenandoah, not Carrie's place. Our night was a perfect replica of so many nights before: ridiculously good sushi & sake @ Sushi Roku, drinks @ St. Nick's, post-bar grilled cheeses at Swingers... This morning the air smelled like LA morning air (which is, actually, wonderful); brunch @ Caffe Latte with Anthony, Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on Robertson w/Carrie (Jake Gyllenhaal & Sean Hayes sightings), shopping (oh, the credit card bill that will be coming; love Kitson now)... then quick trips to Whole Foods & Borders (like I need to add more unread books to my pile of unread books, but, whatever, I got a 25% educator's discount + tote bag filled with stuff; also, Kissing in Manhattan [David Schickler] looked interesting) before returning to Carrie's house to get comfortable and relax.
The thing about going home to a home that isn't your parents' home is that you aren't ever really at home there again. You can drive by 1050 Shenandoah but there are cars in the carport that aren't yours and it's been repainted. If this were still your home, you'd have a pile of bills, groceries to buy, a refrigerator to clean out, animals to feed. "Going home" means going on vacation and coming back to what's really home: bills, errands, etc.
But then I suppose that all depends upon your definition of home.
The selected quotes and thoughts on home bring to mind the Cheers theme. And now I can't stop singing it.
Tomorrow morning begins the meetings I am here for in the first place, and what will be missing on this visit home is running from place to place to see all of my friends. And, really, what is it but our friends and our family (who are so often one in the same) that make up our home?
Yes, I'm aware that there's a certain sap element to this whole post but that's what happens when you go home: You get nostalgic for what you've left behind.
One final, unrelated note -- A terrific t-shirt spotted on a girl in Beverly Hills today: "If you're awesome and you know it, clap your hands." Love it.
First, some favorite quotes that made me feel right at home:
While getting ready, I mentioned to Carrie that my friend Bruno might be coming out. Carrie asked who he was, and as I gave details to remind her, she said: "Oh, right. Hot guy. In that case: lipliner."
Tania: "At this point in our lives, girls, we can't afford to be picky."
As 24-year-old Sean told us of a girl he met at a bar who kept a flying squirrel in her bra: Tania: "Excuse me. What's your name again?" Sean: "Sean." Tania: "Sean -- you're lying."
At Swingers, I came back from the bathroom to find the guy who'd moved to make room for us at the bar gone. Me: "Where'd he go?" Joel: "Gus had to leave. He said goodbye." Me: "His name's Bobby."
Just as I'm about to fall asleep, Carrie popped out of her room and called down the hallway: "Pam. I just realized. I can't date the 24-year-old. ...His last name's Barry."
It is, as always, fabulous, weird, and only slightly surreal to be back in my pseudo-home of LA. Whenever I come back, I feel this odd mix of I totally don't belong here with It feels like I never left. (To be fair, for the eight years I lived here, I often felt like I didn't belong here at all, and I just as often felt like I belonged nowhere else.) Driving home from Swingers at 3 in the morning, in my head I was going back to 1050 Shenandoah, not Carrie's place. Our night was a perfect replica of so many nights before: ridiculously good sushi & sake @ Sushi Roku, drinks @ St. Nick's, post-bar grilled cheeses at Swingers... This morning the air smelled like LA morning air (which is, actually, wonderful); brunch @ Caffe Latte with Anthony, Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf on Robertson w/Carrie (Jake Gyllenhaal & Sean Hayes sightings), shopping (oh, the credit card bill that will be coming; love Kitson now)... then quick trips to Whole Foods & Borders (like I need to add more unread books to my pile of unread books, but, whatever, I got a 25% educator's discount + tote bag filled with stuff; also, Kissing in Manhattan [David Schickler] looked interesting) before returning to Carrie's house to get comfortable and relax.
The thing about going home to a home that isn't your parents' home is that you aren't ever really at home there again. You can drive by 1050 Shenandoah but there are cars in the carport that aren't yours and it's been repainted. If this were still your home, you'd have a pile of bills, groceries to buy, a refrigerator to clean out, animals to feed. "Going home" means going on vacation and coming back to what's really home: bills, errands, etc.
But then I suppose that all depends upon your definition of home.
The selected quotes and thoughts on home bring to mind the Cheers theme. And now I can't stop singing it.
Tomorrow morning begins the meetings I am here for in the first place, and what will be missing on this visit home is running from place to place to see all of my friends. And, really, what is it but our friends and our family (who are so often one in the same) that make up our home?
Yes, I'm aware that there's a certain sap element to this whole post but that's what happens when you go home: You get nostalgic for what you've left behind.
One final, unrelated note -- A terrific t-shirt spotted on a girl in Beverly Hills today: "If you're awesome and you know it, clap your hands." Love it.
posted by pamela at 9:33 PM
3 Comments:
I totally agree with tai about chasing "home". For me, I think the location of my gushy bed has alot to do with it. When people ask my cousin, the nomad, where she is living these days, she simply says, "between my hat and my shoes". Hope your meetings went well. I can't wait for you to come "home"!
ael
home is where the masks rest!
You know...I was actually thinking about you this morning...LONG before you picked up your cell and rang me.
I was at work on icy Stage 3, wrapped in my great-grandpa's horrifically unattractive, brown checkered, wool blanky and curled up inside what I affectionately call "the Blueberry" (one of those round, cushy chairs...a great Target buy @ $25 due to it befitting a child's body!) and in my hands..."KISSING IN MANHATTEN." Now at first I struggled to get through the first couple of chapters...each one was like starting a NEW book again (damn those authors who like to weave the tales of various characters together! Damn them and their super-fine black Pilot pens and/or their silly laptops...damn them!)...but I have to say, once I hit the middle of the book things began to take off. I LOVE it! I love the chaos, I love the simplicity. I love it all. And damn you Pam Parker for forcing me at gun point in that Borders on La Cienega into purchasing it. Grrrr.
So I just had to tell you that I thought of you this morning...long before you picked up your cell and rang me. XOX
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