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Too Broken(2)

By:JR Hunter


"Next I thought about Hawaii. Again, spectacular nature, and it would be  a real change of pace. I've lived in metropolitan areas all my life,  and I thought getting into the Hawaiian way of life of sand, waves, and  hanging loose would certainly be different."

Paulo nodded, eyebrows raised, but refrained from speaking.

"The practical side of my brain quickly put the kibosh on that idea,  though. Hawaii has high levels of unemployment; what would I do for  work? And yes, there's nature, but I don't scuba, or bike, and my  version of hiking is laughable. No, I'd probably drive myself insane in a  week, island fever and all that.

However, going through all of this did help me clarify a few things," I  say. "One, I want to move away from the East Coast. I want something  really different. Two, I know I want to be near water. I'm ruling out  the Gulf Coast because the south is far too humid. That leaves me with  the West Coast. The northwest is too rainy, and I hear Northern  California is pretty cold in the winter, so I'm thinking the City of  Angels. I lived there briefly as a kid, and it has some good things  going for it - the beach, fantastic restaurants, lots of ethnic flavor,  museums, theatres, sports. Plus, there are a ton of universities, so if I  can't figure out a new career right away, I'm sure I could find  something to bide my time."                       
       
           



       

"Los Angeles. Is this your way of telling me that you secretly want to  be an actress and are moving to L.A. for your big shot?" Paulo asked, a  small smile dancing around his lips.

"No, Paulo," I said emphatically. "I do not want to be an actress.  Although, if I happened to be ‘discovered' at the grocery store … "

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"No, no you did not," I said, laughing. "In college I did some theatre,  but it was never something I wanted to do professionally. Not really. My  friends and I liked to sit around and read Shakespeare. When that got  boring  – "

"When?" Paulo interrupted. "You mean after the first sentence?"

"Ha ha ha," I said. "When it got boring, we decided to start performing  it. Performing Shakespeare live is a far cry from being a film actress  though. No, I simply think L.A. has so much to offer. It'll be hard to  find my niche given the size of the city, but if I'm looking for a new  beginning …  Well, I have to think opportunities abound out there. Even  for those not pursuing careers in the entertainment industry."

"What about Victor?" Paulo asked.

"What about Victor?" I countered.

"Aren't you dating?"

I was really surprised that Paulo knew I was dating someone. Perhaps I  shouldn't have been; the university isn't that big and Victor was an  assistant professor in the Literature department.

I did consider Victor when making my decision. Given my age and desire  for a family, was it wise to walk away from a relationship, no matter  how casual? But as usual, I knew I was far more interested in Victor  than he was in me, and he had made it clear on more than one occasion  that he had no interest in having children.

I, on the other hand, remember clearly the day my biological clock  started ticking. I was 19 years old and at the mall, getting into an  elevator. Suddenly a hand darted in and stopped the doors from closing.  The next moment, in came a young mother with the most adorable little  girl eating a popsicle. I gazed down on that child and felt something  tug me towards the sticky little creature. It was so physical, and so  strong, it scared me. How I resisted the urge to snatch up the child and  make a run for it, I still don't know. But from that day onward, that  clock of mine has kept perfect time, and tends to do so rather loudly.

Thirteen years later, the alarm rings constantly and I can't find the  snooze button. If I'm being honest, that's one of the driving factors  for this change. I've been moody, and restless, and it was pretty damn  clear to me that my Prince Charming does not reside on the Atlantic  Seaboard. I don't necessarily have high hopes of finding him in the land  of silicon, perfectly toned asses, and fad diets, but I needed a  dramatic change, and L.A. spoke to me.

"Well, if it takes you that long to answer the question, I guess that  means the two of you aren't that serious," Paulo said, bringing me back  to the moment.

"No, no we aren't serious," I said.

"Does he know?"

"Not yet, but I'll tell him. We're going out Friday night," I said.

"I know this is your personal life, and I have no right to give you  advice, but I think you may want to tell him before then. Word of this  is going to travel fast," Paulo warned.

"Yeah, you're right, thanks Paulo. And, thanks for understanding. Or, trying to at least," I said with a warm smile.

"Kelli, I still feel like this is a really rash decision, which is very  uncharacteristic of you. If I can offer one more piece of unsolicited  advice - sleep on this a few more days. We can talk again," he said.  Then, as if something suddenly occurred to him, "If you'd like different  responsibilities, or a higher salary, let's talk about that. I can't  promise anything, but we should certainly discuss it."

I smiled sadly at Paulo. He really was a very sweet man, but my decision was made.

"Thank you Paulo, but I don't need to sleep on it. I will be leaving  D.C. in two weeks. I may not know exactly where I'm going yet, or what  I'll do for work, but I will leave, that I do know."



******



Although not necessarily easy, I was surprised by how quickly I was able  to close down my life in D.C. and get plans in place to head out to  L.A.

I lived in a great spot in D.C., so finding a subletter to finish my  lease was a piece of cake. Craig's List provided me the opportunity to  sell most of my furniture and appliances, and my best friend Rachel  agreed to store the rest of my belongings until I was ready for them. I  decided to stay at a residential hotel the first few weeks in L.A., so I  could explore and find the perfect spot to live. I was set.                       
       
           



       

On my last night in D.C., I had a going away party with all my friends.  Typical, right? Well, it's actually pretty damn stupid. I spent the  entire night thinking about how marvelous all my friends are, and how  much I am going to miss them. Of course, the party was held at one of my  favorite haunts; also stupid. About fifty times, I seriously doubted  the wisdom of my decision and hoped I wasn't making the greatest mistake  of my life. But I was too far gone to change my mind, so all I could do  was try and enjoy my last night.

I had made incredible friends during college and the majority of us were  all still hanging out. We were a big eclectic mix of oddballs and we  knew we had found our urban tribe by the end of our first year of  undergrad. Some of us got married and had kids - and by ‘us' I most  certainly do not mean me - but through our life changes we stayed  connected, finding a sense of acceptance in our collective atypicalness.

Outside the bar at 1am, it was extremely hard to remain upbeat, to  consider my decision a wise one. Hugging all my wonderful friends  goodbye, I was suddenly gripped by the stark realization that I was  moving 2,700 miles away, to a town where I knew absolutely no one, where  I didn't have a job or a place to live, to pursue a life I had no idea  how to start. I was jumping out of a plane without a parachute.  Voluntarily. And here I always thought I was smart.



******



Now, less than twenty-four hours later, here I am, at the end of the  Santa Monica Pier, in the land of fun in the sun, ready to start again.



******



"Alright, you've been gone exactly two weeks and already I can't stand  it. Come home!" Rachel gives me puppy dog eyes over Skype. I chuckle  softly as she continues, "Seriously, how are you? Do you like it? Are  you having fun?"

My eyes flicker to the picture frame holding a photo of me and Rachel  taken a few months ago at a friend's party. Physically, we share no  common features. She's petite (5'2") while I'm fairly tall (5'8"). She's  slim, while I'm 40 pounds overweight. [For the record, I wear it well,  with large breasts, a flat(ish) stomach, and ‘womanly' hips, but of  course I still spend at least ten hours a week in the gym in the hopes  of someday being in a single digit dress size.] Rachel has shoulder  length, naturally blonde hair and warm brown eyes. My bottle-made  mahogany locks fall past the middle of my back, the color chosen because  it calls attention to my hazel eyes.

Our personalities are fairly divergent as well. Rachel is one of the  nicest people you'll ever meet. She's honestly sweet, naturally smart,  and finds everyone and everything interesting. And while she'd say the  exact same things about me, few others would. I'm a little salty, a nice  counterpoint to her geniality. My life's been a bit more challenging -  broken home, poverty, that sort of thing - so I wear a world weary  demeanor with ease. My sarcastic wit is ever-ready, and my skepticism  and desire to question everything keeps people on their toes.