What do we do with our in-between times?

we make little lives for ourselves out of squishy pillows, popcorn makers and other people's boxsprings.
part one: of many


I gave it a valiant effort. Really I did. I tried radio shows, audio books, adjusting my sleep patterns and once I even briefly considered wearing a helmet to work (L.A. drivers trying to beat the traffic are about as safe and courteous as stadium bathrooms) but I simply could not handle the"commit me now" (as my mother so eloquently puts it) commute from Pasadena to Santa Monica.


Some of you might like driving. Some of you might get your ya-yas from hearing Ryan Secrest yapping for 13 minutes between Brittney and Rihanna. Some of you might even get a little rush from the early morning rat race (how people are alive after driving 95 from the 110 to downtown is nothing short of a miracle)
Unfortunately, I am definitely not one of you.
Driving may or may be one of my least favorite things, and driving in traffic is about as mentally titillating as a scalpel up my nose so I knew that it was only a matter of time before I uprooted to Santa Monica.
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That was two Tuesdays ago.
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Now I am here in my new "box," (as Sam calls it), trying to make it my "home."
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I am equipped with all of the necessary things (you know, my pop corn maker, 2 buck chuck and 19 pairs of socks) so now I am channeling my inner Diane Lane (circa Under the Tuscan Sun) and taking this conversion project very seriously. 

"The trick to overcoming buyer's

remorse is to have a plan.

Pick one room

and make it yours.

Go slowly through the house.

Be polite, introduce yourself,

so it can introduce itself

to you."

And that is the fabulous thing about studio apartments - there is only really one room to introduce yourself to. 


here is the view from my bed:

Oh lovely bedroom/kitchen/living room! I cannot WAIT for you to 

introduce yourself to me!