Moving on

I've unpacked some more and put together some cheap furniture and it's feeling a little more like home. Not really. But sort of. I'm struggling with this place. One minute I'm possessive over it and other minutes I cringe at it's hideousness. I'm giving myself 3 months and I'm out. Oh, and it's an asbestos building. I didn't even know they allowed people to live in asbestos buildings! 3 months. 3 months. 3 months. Yep, giving it 3 months and I'm moving to a nicer apartment. I can't even cook because the heat goes straight to the smoke/heat detector so it goes off even if I boil water to make tea. And I'm a cook -- I love cooking. I've ordered food for, like, two weeks now and I'm going nuts.

Then today I'm listening to the news breaks on the radio and television and the announcers continue to refer to the "Dreamgirls" opening and I can't figure out (1) what they are talking about, and (2) why it's so bloody important? And then it hit me -- I'm in LA! Ohhhh, the "Dreamgirls" opening -- okay, I get it now. I'm in LA. I keep forgetting with the Target and the Denny's and the Rite-Aid. It seems like a normal town, and then I get these knocks on the head that remind that it's not a normal town! I love this place -- it's wack-ass here.

Last night I had another one of "those" conversations with the ex. In a nutshell: he sabotaged our marriage and made it impossible for me to stay and now he misses me and regrets letting/making me leave and he cries every time we talk and it's just sad -- but I don't have the energy to listen or even care anymore. I'm not heartless, I'm just tired of doing this. I'm done. That's the real reason I moved -- I had to get away, far away, from the ex. He's too much trouble and I need to move on. So, as for moving on . . .

Great friends, great conversation, great food and drinks -- that was my weekend and I had a really nice time. While my apartment isn't the greatest, I still love living here and I'm looking forward to the future -- whatever it may hold.