Resources don't grow on trees, people

So far Los Angeles has taught me about patience.

Patience to create a cove of friends, a real flock if you will, not a dreaded "network."

Patience to find genuine people to go out on the town, or the really specials one to spend the night in.

To wait for the winning pitch even if that means sitting until midnight, although it may never come at all.

Patience to wait for the bands that really matter, trusting good luck and fair judgment to find the right unknown legend to spend a night with.

Patience to scramble across town in hopes that you will be able to get in.

To sit on the 405 and wait for traffic to start moving.

To find the person who will get your name on the guest list in advance.

Patience to fight through security checkpoints, and wait for checked luggage. Even when said security drops panties on the floor in public (true story).

Patience to wait for the position of recognition that all career-oriented people strive for.

To break the devastating stories, whether good or bad, and speak with people who make a difference that I can believe in.

To write for a liberal magazine about artists and politics and sustainability in the garden...so I'm not picky on that part.

Patience to sit inside on a warm day with full sun and write that novel that is itching your fingertips.

Patience to trust your instincts when others say your wrong.

To know when you must, because you are right.

But mostly L.A. has taught me appreciate the people that don't care about a status or a faux paux or an accidental step backward on the corporate ladder.

It taught me to love fresh water and fresh air.

To not let the prickling in my toes turn in to anxieties about my future, or my rent, or the one who got away. Or even the what-ifs and the somedays.

If I am ever going to be the stringent editor scrutinizing the latest legislation on mandated sustainability requirements, while my breath-taking significant other waits with dinner at home, I must be patient.

Patience is just one of the many dwindling resource these days, so better not squander.

I'm terrible at letters so I thought I would blog instead, too bad for you I'm not so great at those either

When I first met you I thought, this is probably the most hip cat that I've held a conversation with. I felt intrigued by your energy and invited into the fervor of your personality.

It was the boisterous laugh that usually accompanied a knee slap and a head jerk in case anyone questioned your sincerity. Although theatrics rarely seemed staged.

But this is supposed to be about me, my daily drama in the quest for greatness.

I stood at sunset facing the stacked clouds piled over the ocean yesterday and knew I was home. The smell and wind are so different from the lake that I love so much.

Sunsets bring some of the most vivid shades of pink I've seen anywhere. My favorite moments are nested on the beach after dusk. I will have to show you sometime. (Picture from a fellow blogger and sunset aficionado)

I am melding into the monotony of city life. The traffic, the hustle, the climb up the social ladder. This is not meant in disdain, but astonishment that I could assimilate so quickly.

Los Angeles is no longer just a vacation or an extended visit, but where I live. Still settling without getting too settled.

My lovely roommate and I found solace in a cozy apartment on street lined with gnarled trees. I couldn't be happier. She introduced me to numerology and I believe this is my personal year of creativity. Don't ask how I deduced this, the math still boggles me.

Therefore, I am working harder than ever to stretch from my comfort zone. Each weekend this month I attend an event or gathering that perks my interest about this fair city. Going downtown to experience the plethora of museums and galleries is a must.

The recent trip to the Natural History Museum's first friday event was a bust. People actually asked us to scalp them tickets. Jokes on them, we didn't have any. Who knew that Yeasayer would be so popular? Who knew people in Los Angeles drove in the rain?

Sticking to what's familiar is dangerous, even in a city full of unfamiliarity. I left behind the dive bars and the cafe jobs for a reason. These items soon found their place in LA, but I think their presence is fleeting.

Writing has become more demanding between freelance and my desire to post all these new experiences for the world to see. I am jumping at every opportunity to get out there and get my voice heard. I feel the verge of some great work.

Trying to learn from my mistakes and quiet any disparities.

Covering the mundane school board meetings and city hall agendas are different when hoer devours are plentiful and Cindy Crawford is sitting in front of you. Is it wrong that I almost lost my composure only when I saw the actor that plays Data in Star Trek?

I miss a community of writers and welcome any work that you want to send me way. I of course welcome any input you have even if it's just a comment on a silly post. I want to hear about the Windy City. I miss it so.

Thank you for listening. It's tough being the new kid some days.

Send my love to the Smitten Mitten. Please respond with a jar of snow as soon as possible. I will be waiting.