WEIRDOWOOD

Lisa and I are getting ready to move–temporarily, indefinitely–to Los Angeles. Ever since I started writing and performing comedy, and getting any kind of traction with it, I’ve heard that question: Would you ever move to LA? My standard answer used to be, Not if I can help it. Later, it was revised to Not unless something pretty great brought me there. Well, something pretty great is bringing me there. And, whether she likes it or not, that pretty great something is bringing Lisa there, too.

It does seem odd to use the expression “getting ready” when talking about our move, though, because neither of us feels especially ready at all. Really, we aren’t even sure how to feel ready. We can’t really start looking for an apartment until the end of this month, for a move the following month. Consequently, we don’t have a new address or even a move date. We just have a few solid but disconnected plans: We will pack up our stuff and move it to Los Angeles in some moving company’s truck while we rent a car and drive together across the country and hope we all arrive on the other coast around the same time, at an apartment for which we have a lease and keys. There’s also the business of getting our cats to Los Angeles–subjecting them a 10-day car trip seems unnecessarily cruel to everyone on the vehicle, but flying them out early means they’ll have a month to hang out somewhere in Los Angeles in advance of our arrival.

Oh yeah, and cars. Two cars. Purchasing one car seems like a six-month research investment, so purchasing two, in a window of just a few days, seems fairly insane.

Oh yeah, and neighborhoods. Lisa will be working in Santa Monica and I will be working in Universal City. Are we supposed to just rent a trailer parked on the median of Pico Boulevard? What is even considered a reasonable commute compromise? And what is considered a reasonable compromise? One hour? Four hours? And will we ever walk again?

Oh yeah, and we have about three dozen more “oh yeahs” to sort out over the next few weeks. Sometimes Lisa and I become paralyzed by our own checklists and that’s when days like today occur, where the only progress we made toward our relocation was spending several hours at Sol Moscot buying new eyeglasses for her and new prescription sunglasses for me. (Now I can enjoy my own genetic weaknesses in style. LA style!)

I’ve lived in the same city for over thirteen years, and the same state all my life. There are so many ways I feel connected to New York that on good days, I try to look at this sudden move as an “adventure”–a corny truth I believe. However, on bad days it’s more like a “terrifying change,” a “tremendous imposition”, or a “stress test of the bond of marriage.” That said, no matter how things shake out with this new job I’m glad Lisa and are embarking on this tremendous imposition together.

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