Hi everybody.  Quickly if I may, as there isn’t presently a greeting card (until I invent one) that reads, “thanks for the congrats on quitting my job!” or, “thanks for believing that, by quitting my job, it doesn’t mean I’m pregnant by a sugar daddy”, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of my lovely deadbeat supporters for their kind well-wishes.  It’s not easy leading a life of nothingness in order to achieve everythingness, as is the point of all of this dribble.  So, I appreciate it everyone, truly I do.  

And another thing that occurred to me, to be clear I don’t have any kind of sugar daddy, as is the connotation with “deadbeat”.  I mean yes that would be nice, but seeing as I’m ridiculously stubborn and independent I’m not sure I would allow that sort of nascent and eventually deleterious behavior, for fear of becoming an insane monster.  So, no.  

As day 12 of business-free life approaches, I’d like to recap a litany of recent adventures that led to:

      advantage: Esa life discoveries, yeah!

      disadvantage: anxiety and missing life’s point, boo

Last week was my official city of Angeles love affair week.  The cataracts of stressful working life lifted to reveal lovely events.

Here’s a quick list:
Sunday:  Jen and I drank champagne and made cookies in a bribery attempt to win neighbor friends.  UPDATE: cookies have yielded 1 thank you note.  As mentioned yesterday, I will apprise you on any fantastic yacht party invitations I was expecting and am sure to receive.

Monday: Drove to Silverlake to the tune of Lindsay Buckingham’s “Holiday Road”, then discovered a cool coffee place.  Also it smells like laundry detergent and eucalyptus in Silverlake.* [*only in certain parts; be forewarned that some areas downwind you may experience an olfactory sensation akin to shoving your face into an armpit that has been drinking cheap whiskey].  Went to Wacko, weird indie quirky bookstore. It’s amazing and teaches you about cool LA stuff.

 Tuesday: Joined an orchid forum, then within hours watched the last of my orchid flowers fall off in contempt, as if to say, “hey dummy, you should know how to do this.” Oh well.  Thought about going to yoga, walked to yoga, went to yoga, walked home from yoga.  Big day.  Made dinner. No one died.  Victory!

 Wednesday:

Day: Manhattan Beach Public Library card ownership!!  Internal debate on whether to become a tutor for those looking to learn English as a second language, OR join a Scrabble team that meets Thursdays, OR attend Success with Succulents, by the MB Botanical Society.  Learned it was National Public Library Week, commemorated by the small Chinese man behind the counter giving everyone a Hershey’s kiss.  How fing cute is that!? It melted in my computer bag later. That’s ok. :/ 

Night:

  1) tried new gastropub City Tavern. Good but kinda snobby for no reason. Cheesy poofs on the menu on a giant cliché chalkboard in the back. Found that endearing at first, then kinda stupid.  The poofs, not the chalkboard.

  2) went to old guy guitar jam session that apparently happens each Wednesday at a dive in Playa del Rey. I hesitate to tell you where because I selfishly would like to keep this little gem to myself. Awesome leather studded giant booths and chandeliers that probably used to live in old mid-western Pizza Huts. I am in love.  We were by far the youngest patrons, which I exalted over, likely exposed by my perma-shit eating grin.

Thursday: Downtown LA artwalk. Met up with some friends in a neighborhood loosely categorized as “trying-really-hard-(with-mini-victories)-to-go-through-yuppie-renaissance” downtown Los Angeles.  These friends are fantastic and so is their new loft.  And they are trailblazers.  They fit this description due to their love for the arts, and card-carrying members of a new society I’m calling “Adventurers in Real Estate, America’s Brave”. 

If I told my grandmother I was moving to Bunker Hill, she would fly out from her golf course in Lakeway, Texas and light me on fire, at the very notion of an abode with such proximity to Skid Row.  Death by fire from her hand is far better.  You understand.  Well, maybe you don’t but I do.

Friday: Struggling to remember Friday. What did we do?  [memory loss is a side effect of joblessness]. Oh, yes. In preparation for impending surf lesson we took it easy and went to a rooftop restaurant and enjoyed the sunset. Although all was not lost in entertainment, we sat right in the middle of a cougar den.  I don’t really want to leave you hanging there but I think you’d prefer it.

Saturday: Surf lesson.  Yes, surf lesson.  Definitely knocked on death’s 59 degree, wet ocean door.  This just in: surf boards can double as a fun, buoyant wave-navigating tool/ floatation device, or a murder weapon.  A.m. surfing was followed by beach afternoon and scary movie night.

So, my little students of deadbeatedness, this brings us to the core of today’s lesson.  When you don’t have a job, or when you are truly open to life’s path, you don’t really have anything to focus on except for what’s directly in front of your face. Hence, the beginning of a life love affair and agreeing to experience waaaay more stuff. [As in yoga when they say, ‘one day the goal is to touch your forehead to the tops of your feet’, a more realistic goal of mine one day is to have a nice balance of life focus and career focus]. 

You’re able to strangely wander around admiring people and things and what they offer; you’re able to “enjoy the moment”.  Usually when people say that I have a strong urge to tell them to suck it, followed by an open-faced slap.  But, when you really have let go, you become an open source. Just this last week I talked to strangers, made them cookies, tried to be a surfer and wound up at a new Tequila bar (well new to me) where they make everything by hand and the menu is cardboard w/ marker.  Amazing.

I hadn’t all the way felt this realization, until I took Mark to work Friday morning because we carpooled to the skid row loft. In spite of little sleep, not being in shape and wanting to pass out from remnants of the night before, I am fascinated by life.  And low and behold, everything is saying hi to me. For example, this building:

“why, hello!” I exclaimed.  [No, not out loud. I’m not that much of a cartoon character. Ok 50% chance it was outloud].

Then I kept going, because the Hello banner building, in my .05 second assessment peering through the windows, very closely resembled an advertising agency, which ignited a jet propulsion-style gait right past it.  Mostly based on my sheer need to ingest many, many milligrams of caffeine, I landed a few doors down to Teaforest, a cute cute coffee and tea place.  I ordered an EPI pen of espresso and then looked over to notice this guy [no, not the slow-looking question mark one, the “hi” one]:

And then, I found myself levitating by the notion that- really we can do whatever we want as long as we are seeing hello or hi.  And wondering what amazing thing will happen next.  And, the realization that sometimes in our lives we might not afford ourselves the luxury of time to get to know ourselves.  In an effort to control or continue or maintain, our luxuries might consist of- “yes! I will take the sports package tires, AND SO I am keeping my job everyone!” [I’m not knocking sports package tires, these are important and very nice], a bigger tv, that shampoo- not the shitty kind, a dog that has a stronger gene pool than your own and cost one month’s rent just to get his papers; he has papers!?…ok I could go on but I think you get it. 

Now please know, I’m most definitely not knocking the reputable economy of supply and demand. I totally get it. This is just my experience when your supply has literally dried up, and what to do to get it back.

To close this all up, a few things.  I have no idea what makes people happy, but I do know it irritates the shit out of me when people are and I am not, or I can’t cognitively collect a reason why they are, unless I’ve seen them imbibe 83 hand made tequila drinks from Las Perlas after having danced on the 12^th floor of an awesome loft building.  When I do feel this elusive happy feeling with only minimal amounts of outside stimulation, it appears to be the outcome of lots of listening and openness.  I will try to capture this feeling, like catching an endangered white tiger that is nice and wants to snuggle with you and not claw your face off.  But then I will let it go, so it can come back. 

So do it. Do lots of listening.  Take a lesson, find a loft to hang out in (get your own, I’m not sharing), agree to go to a stupid dive bar. Make a cookie. You just never know. 

Yours in self-introspection and tiger catching,

Esa