5 Things I've Learned Since Moving To LA
A year ago, after countless minutes thinking about leaving, I packed up my Honda Civic and headed west for bigger and better dreams. In my small frame of thinking I was both an idiot and making the best decision of my life, this is what I’ve learned:
1. Simply Put: You hate it or love it
There is this weird, ironic, Hollywood idea of moving to California that is fed to everyone from a distance, and it’s why people come. I mean, who doesn’t want to bank in the islands and eat with Italians and live in a $30 million house in Calabasas next to Drake? But no one tells you how hard it is to find an apartment in Compton with a roommate who won’t eat all of your Reese’s Puff cereal and wear your silk kimono while you’re not home. Either it’s a craigslist scam or your credit isn’t good enough, but how the hell is my credit going to be good if I can’t even get a credit card?
There are two scenarios I’ve seen, unless you’re coming with money and a true purpose. You can either find work and no place to live, or a place to live and no work. On second thought maybe I should have titled this, “Why Didn’t My Parents Move to LA with Me?" If you can make it a year, you can make it. If you can’t you’ll probably end up moving back to Wisconsin with your aunt and uncle who inevitably will need you to be their care takers cause Uncle Bill’s diabeetus is acting up, but hey . . . You don’t have to pay rent. Who needs art when rent is free and beer is cheap?
2. It's Lonely as Hell
One thing I’ve found about this city that is different from the 19+ places I’ve lived in the last 22 years of my life is that its way too easy to feel alone and isolated in a city of three million people. All of my closest friends live in LA, but what they didn’t tell me is that “in LA” is still over an hour of driving a stick shift in traffic, which, on the real, if I were to torture someone that’s all I would make them do. No sleep and make them drive me all over at rush hour with a stick shift. (Upon writing it seems more dangerous for me than them).
This is the first place that I have had to actively find something to do or someone to hang out with to combat the feeling. It could just be the anxiety of growing up and living in such a high paced lifestyle. It seems that everyone has it all figured out, and that if I watch even a second of Netflix and chill (by myself) then my entire life somehow has been derailed and my career is forever down the drain.
Even with a girlfriend (R.I.P.) I had that feeling of loneliness, though luckily she was there for me. I had buddies. Tons of them. They just happened to live so damn far away that I found myself moping and thinking of all the cool things I could be doing. I guess I could have driven, but this is LA. Who likes driving? I’m lucky to have some of the most solid and successful friends so close to me, but if you’re coming in fresh by yourself keep this in mind. Go to church, go to a bar, hang out with friends from work, and don’t live in Orange County.
3. LA Doesn't Care About You
Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE it here. At times it’s like an amusement park. “People watching” alone is worth the price of admission. Endless shows, endless celebrities, endless fashion, endless opportunity . . . if you know the right people. Where else can I go to a restaurant and see Clark Duke (the office), Minka Kelly (parenthood), and Steve Nash (NBA)? But that’s about all LA has to offer you. When you first get here its more about what you can offer LA, and if you have nothing, it doesn’t care. It will still give you a large amount of party drugs and take a large amount of your money all the while you never move forward to get anywhere. You want a job? Too bad . . . no one ever calls you back. You want a house? Too bad . . . too expensive, and no one calls you back. This is the place where you have to make a name for yourself by working 90 hours a week or by knowing the right people. Luckily I know the right people, and if you can ever get a hold of me after reading this, maybe I can help you out. Just remember, have a plan, know why you're coming, don’t come to “party” (unless you want to die), and always, always wear your roofie detecting nail polish.
4. Xanax is Temporary (but the memories are gone forever"
For the sake of integrity I have never taken Xanax, but I did drink too much NyQuil one night. I woke up in a haze and didn’t care about literally anything, except, of course, getting Starbucks and driving to my girlfriend's house. I’m a fairly anxious person so we’ll just pretend it’s the same. I have also listened to a fair amount of rap, so, basically, I get it. If Drake doesn’t take it, no one should. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Just know, at the risk of sounding redundant, LA makes you give 110% all the time.
From having to consistently look your best to having to consistently perform your best only to peek at the dark audience below and see only five people comprised of you, the two bartenders (who are already pissed they are missing the Rae Sremmurd show downtown), your best friend (most likely already successful), and the drunk homeless guy that sits in front of the Whole Foods you finally got a job at. If you don’t make any money tonight, you’ll inevitably get back in your Ford Fiesta, all the while knowing you just listened to the last episode of Serial and your data is up for the month, which means no Spotify, and sit in silence . . . and most likely cry. Here’s to hoping next Friday my mom finally comes to my show.
The upside to all of this? There are probably at least 10,000 other people on any given night that feel exactly the same way but end up numbing the pain artificially and wake up way worse off than you. Go home, turn on Drive, channel your inner Ryan Gosling, and eat a lot of tacos. You’re going to be okay. As much as it sucks, you’re going to be okay.
Disclaimer: if you are clinically diagnosed with anxiety feel free to do whatever you want.
5. Small World After All
This entire article, you’ve probably been like “why the hell would I want to move there?” Well, hopefully this last portion gives you hope. As big and “scary” as LA is, I’ve noticed that once you’re on the inside it’s a small world. Everyone knows somebody who knows somebody who can get you into some club on a certain night or into a meeting with someone who can get you connected to the personal assistant of the assistant to Leonardo DiCaprio’s dog groomer. On any given night you can go to Franklin Village and see the same person you met and drank with the night before in Silver Lake. Chances are they wont remember you, but the night before you got deep enough to find out they dated your cousin in high school and their best friend was in your mutual friend's wedding over 3,000 miles away. LA is the only place I’ve met someone totally random, mentioned his name to a friend, and then said friend proceeds to tell me his whole life story because he was in that friend's boss's wedding in San Francisco.
EVERYONE KNOWS EVERYONE.
Chances are you’ll run into your ex multiple times all over the city. The only way to hide is to stay home, change your religion, change your sexual preference, or become a monk. In all, go to shows, go to clubs, go to art openings, stay sober, and people will remember you. Or get really drunk and people will remember you because of the amount of times they snapped you. You choose your fate.
Once you get settled into the hustle and bustle of the city and remember that people are just trying to make it like you, it creates a level playing field, and your confidence is slightly boosted. Maybe I don’t know much. Maybe everyone else had a much better first year than I did. Or maybe everyone else is too high to see it! Either way, as emo as all this sounds, LA is the place to be. Sometimes, though, you just have to zoom out and look at the big picture and stop trying to get it right all the time. Take Kanye, for example. He knows it’s about our kids. He knows something that a lot of us may not. Don’t go with the flow of LA if you want to stand out. That’s too easy.
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