Weekend Update: An exciting time to be alive

I don't generally write about myself here. I don't know if it's because I think it's vain to blog about oneself, or because I feel uncomfortable, whatever the reason I haven't talked about anything really personal in quite a long time. So here is a mini-update of what's going on in my life.

Boyan and I had a busy weekend. On Saturday we went to my nephew Jacob's 5th birthday party at my soon-to-be Sister-in-law's house in Glendora. We played with musical instruments, ate cake, and watched him tear it up on his new Tony Hawk bike. I think the greatest part about having kids is that you get to relive the excitement of being a kid all over again. I can't wait until I get my chance.

The birthday boys

After we had lunch we drove over to the Golden Spur and had dinner for my Uncle Richard's birthday. I had bacon-wrapped filet mignon and a baked potato. That was after eating tons of food at my Nephew's house, and my stomach has been kind of a wreck ever since.

On Sunday, Boyan and I filled my car and his co-worker Jordan's truck to the hilt, and dropped the first batch of boxes off at our new apartment. It's weird to think that we are going to be moving again. I remember the feeling of loss I had when we left our apartment on Kelton. Thinking that I would never walk into those rooms again, or see the bright green walls I'd grown to love. I have fond memories of that apartment, and even if they are tainted by the nostalgia I'll always love that apartment because it was our first apartment together.

605 Kelton

When we moved to West Covina I knew we were leaving a lot behind, friends, and you know, civilization. We were jumping right into the deep end of a murky pool. Sure the money that my new job was offering made the move worth it, but after spending nine months at Newegg, and being rescued by my new job at Demand, I can't help but think that we jumped to quickly to move away from our life in Westwood.

West Covina

Now that we're coming back to West L.A. I have those same feelings of loss, although our new apartment won't be as much of a shock. I really like the new place, and when I walk in (even though there are boxes piled from floor to ceiling), I can already imagine myself having coffee on the patio in the mornings, coming home for lunch in the afternoons, sitting and reading a book in our light yellow living room. I feel bad for poor Boyan who will now have to endure the commute I suffered through for the past nine months, and only hope that the winds of fate will change and he won't have to make his way east for long.

I can't say I'll miss the apartment in West Covina as much as our apartment in Westwood. I have a lot of memories in West Covina, but they are all from my childhood and in a different part of the city. I feel like our part of town is too industrial, too cold and too unfriendly for us to develop any nostalgia. I can't speak for Boyan, but I know that a big part of me can't wait to say goodbye to West Covina forever. But in the back of my mind, in the pit of my stomach, is the fear and anxiety that comes with change.

We should be completely moved in by April 25th, Boyan will probably stay behind for the last week of April as we had to pay our rent up until May 3rd. We'll re-paint the walls white with primer and clean the carpets in order to get as much of our deposit back as possible. But before that is Boyan's birthday as well as my brother Pat. They happen to have been born on the same day three years apart. I don't know what we'll do for that besides dinner with the family, but for those of you who are interested (and invited of course) we will probably have a Birthday/Housewarming party in May.

I have not had too much time to write with all this moving and packing tumult. It's frustrating not being able to devote my time to something I feel I so desperately need to do. It almost feels like I'm neglecting a crying baby; I want to hold it and comfort it, but I'm tied down by necessities of life. I hate it. I'm just going to have to sneak in time here and there. I know once we move I'll have a lot of time alone to write, as I'll be waiting for Boyan to come home from work; I just need to suck it up until then. I'm a third of the way through my first revision, and I'm finding a lot of places in the story where I need to add back story and even a couple more chapters. I think I've said this before but I want to say it again. Writing is the hardest thing I've ever done, and the most rewarding. Even if the things I write don't get published there is something to be said about creating something. Building something from the floor up that stands on it's own with you as the progenitor. It's an amazing feeling.

I see myself spending a lot of time at the library working on my book. I'm hoping that I'll get accepted to Bennington, or get the Tinhouse seminar scholarship (both would be amazing), so that I could have some help work shopping the book. Right now it feels like everything is floating around in my head and I need to get it all organized in a way that makes sense. I can honestly say I'll probably revise this book at least six times if not more. I want to get it done done by the end of the year so I can start looking for an agent. It might be hard as Boyan's sister Natalia is coming to live with us for three months, but I'll just have to make time. I'm hoping to buy a bike pretty soon, so if I need some alone time I can just hop on and ride down to the library or to Cacao which is just up the street from our new place.

I keep having these dreams that I open our mailbox to find the large Bennington folder. I've dreamt about it so much that when I do open our mailbox, I swear I hallucinate that the big thick white envelop is actually there. It's insane. I hate waiting to hear back, it's torture. I had a crazy dream last night that I got caught up in a tornado, and when the tornado hit me I floated and was weightless. I woke up a second after the tornado hit me in my dream, and I swear I woke up feeling like I was floating.

I looked up the meaning of tornadoes in dreams, and it says that it's a "loss of control dream." I sat there hoping the tornado would skip past me, helpless and when it came there was nothing I could do. In a world where everything is crazy and tumultuous, my writing is something I can control. It's something I actively do to better myself. I wonder if my inability to write because of our move has made me subconsciously feel out of control. Or if it's because I'm waiting to hear back from Bennington. I guess it's something to think about.

So, that's my update. A lot going on right now, a lot of unknown variables but that's okay. That's what life is all about right? If we knew what was going to happen it wouldn't be so exciting.

Until next time, this tornado loves you.