I’ve wanted to move to California since I was 12 years old.
On my 13th birthday my friend gave me a bottle of pink champagne which she smuggled back for me from a family vacation to Hollywood.
The plan was to drink it on my 16th birthday, on our way to California in the Volkswagen Van we planned to buy with saved babysitting money. We were all psyched up to busk and (self) degrade our way to super-movie-stardom.
The Champagne lasted about 3 weeks, until the sunrise dance/pancake breakfast at our junior high school.
We didn’t actually drink it at the school, we drank it in the cemetery at 5am, watching a grade 9 girl bad-trip on acid. We called her mom to come get her and continued to the dance where Andrea proceeded to barf her guts out in front of the entire student counsel. I was called to office two hours later and suspended for contributing to the debauchery of a fellow student.
I was grounded for 3 months. Andrea.
When I was 16 I moved in with a punk rock band called the Dayglo Abortions and started an early career in alcoholism and public nudity, which overlapped effortlessly with aimless existence and disgruntled waitressing. Needless to say, my California dream was temporarily derailed.
At the tender age of 20 I inadvertently started a baby spawning business which, while leading to narrowly escaped catastrophes such as floral print blouses, embroidery and a dark and twisted postpartum obsession with Mark Humphrey/curious preoccupation with E.N.G., flourished nicely over the following few years
I continued to pine. I practiced audition monologues while washing cloth diapers and grinding homemade baby food; glued macaroni to construction paper and palm trees to my dream-board; wore Jacki O sunglasses and and took improv classes.
Somehow, somewhere along the way my life took a bunch of unconventional turns and crashed into a few pylons and meridians and next thing you know I was on a plane; hauling three kids and two cats across the country and back to my birth place in Eastern Canada.
California took a back seat.
I pasted magazine cut-outs of Butterfly Beach to an over-sized coffee can and started a Cali-savings-fund. The kids would donate a percentage of their allowance from time to time along with every penny they found on the sidewalks and in the couch cushions.
Eventually all $13.67 of it was spent on toilet paper, rice and lentils.
I perused realty sites and took virtual tours of million dollar listings. I registered with agent mailing lists who diligently sent me weekly updates of residents in my $600,000.00 – $5,050,713.00 price range which I scoured thoroughly.
Life took more turns and tumbles and yes, we moved.
I was ejected from the welfare system and evicted from our apartment and we moved.
We moved and moved and moved but still… here we still are. In Montreal. Not. In. California.
It’s been 28 years since the dream was first germinated and although the chances of me becoming a mega-super-moviestar are slim, I dream on.
I dream of a Spanish style villa with a pool and garden that goes on for acres.
I dream of a winter that doesn’t last 6 months or paralyze you in a state of deep depression.
I dream of guacamole that tastes like avocados.
I fall ill with a near fatal mystery disease that seems to have no name and no cure but never-ending tests and treatments. I think about how expensive this would be in the states and wonder if I should just be thankful to be here. I wonder if I should just let go and let the dream go. I wonder if I would have gotten sick in California…
I live my life, raise my children, job-hunt, update my blogs, eat avocados that taste like cotton, check all my trackers and web site analyzers and
WHAT’S THIS?
Damn Straight it looks right!!
It looks like a sign is what it looks like!!
Even twitalyzer knows I’m supposed to be in California! I’m supposed to be in.. Wal.. what? Where the heck is walnut?
www.wikipedia.com
Walnut is a city in Los Angeles County, California, United States.
Perfect!
The population is 30,004 and…
What?
The city covers nearly nine square miles (23 sq. km) and is home to more than 32,000 people and 600 businesses.
Um… I feel like we’ve had a bit of a misunderstanding and…
The history of Walnut dates back to the Indians who were of Shoshone origin. They were called Gabrielino Indians by the Spaniards, who arrived in the early 19th century because…
Yeah yeah whatever…
One of the most notable aspects of Walnut is the Walnut Family Festival. For one day each year during the fall, several larger streets are closed in the early hours of the morning and a parade is held in which many local clubs and groups participate. Later in the afternoon, a fair with booths, games, food, and activities is held in Suzanne Park, adjacent to Suzanne Middle School.
*cries*
For every 100 females age 18 and over, there are 93.5 males.
Okay! Okay! I get it.
The per capita income for the city is $31,196.
Alright! I’m over it already!
The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department (LASD) operates the Walnut/Diamond Bar…
The what now?
station.
Oh.
You know, my mother’s parents are both French. Maybe there is a way I could get my French citizenship?
I might be able to find a quaint Spanish-style villa in the south of France…
