Happy New Year!

Since it is already the 5^th, most of you have probably put away your party horns and finally sobered up from all of those champagne toasts!  I actually celebrated six months of sobriety yesterday – a decision I made back on July 4^th not as a result of alcoholism or drug addiction, but because I needed a very clear head to make an important decision that would perhaps alter my life in a big way - whether or not to leave Los Angeles.

As I am exhausted from traveling (and as a result developed a slight cold), I will utilize my activities and photos from New Year's Eve to tell a short story in how I made that difficult decision...

This past year was like a labyrynth of little bags of lights leading me on a path through the darkness of the unknown.  Some days it seemed like I was on the right path, only to be faced with a dead end where I would then have to turn back around and attempt a different approach. 

Once in awhile, out of the blue, a miracle would happen - like snow falling from the sky in Florida...

  

...or comp tickets to a Cheap Trick concert from an old friend, reminding me to remain hopeful and optimistic, things could change in a moment, often when you least expect them.

And while 2011 was full of obstacles and setbacks, there were several successes too.  Celebrating the New Year not with a toast of champagne, but sparkling white grape juice?  It took 20 years to accomplish that one!

And the next morning when I greeted 2012 with my eyes fully open - not influenced by alcohol or the opinions of others - I found that everything was suddenly so clear.  The resolution I tied on this 10-ft 'Resolution Dress' wasn't about zip codes, income, or job titles, but about my willingness to accept life's journey wherever it may lead me.

I know now that leaving Los Angeles isn't about quitting, giving up, or failing.  It isn't filled with anger or sadness either.  It is just another step in the adventure that is my life.  All I have to do is continue to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. 

TO BE CONTINUED...

Thankful for the Light, the Tunnel, & Valet Attendants

"Remember the light at the end of the tunnel may be you."
"Amazing" by Aerosmith

So even with the “fame” that comes with being in the LA Times, I am back to parking cars.  Last night I was running around in a very dark and wet Bel Air neighborhood, hoping the speeding cars down Beverly Glen would see my small frame in between the endless rain drops plopping down on their fancy windshields.  I was freezing.  My jeans and puffy white coat featuring the valet company logo on the back offered little protection.  For safety, I had a blinking glow stick hanging from my belt loop that I had gotten free two years ago for changing my oil.  I was happy to see the thing still worked and prayed it generated some attention to passing cars that I was not a ghost but female valet attendant for fancy private house party.

After parking the cars for the guests attending the party, I was left to stand for two hours in the dimly lit driveway, which resembled some covered bridge the headless horseman might gallop through on his way to collect skulls.  I tried to pass the time through conversations with my co-workers or wandering in and out of the covered bridge to admire the beauty of the landscaping. 

On one side of the bridge were the huge double doors closing off the property from the street and any curious onlookers.  With the doors closed, it was probably difficult to see through the vines and foliage that was obviously constructed for privacy.  A colonial-style lamp hung from the center of the bridge providing some light, but the rain still clouded any real chances of viewing.  In walking through the tunnel of the bridge to the other side, you were greeted with a stone walkway leading up to the front door and glowing windows filled with beautiful objects inside. 

It suddenly seemed so easy to walk those few steps through the tunnel of darkness into this new world full of so much light that I stood there for a few minutes forgetting that the rain was damping my hair and soaking my shoes.  I tried to enjoy the few moments of light knowing shortly I would have to return to the dark.  I wasn’t sad though.  I was just thankful I still had the energy and interest to make the walk.  There is usually some kind of light at the end of the tunnel, but the question is whether you want to continue making the effort in trying to see it.

In honor of Thanksgiving this week, I want to thank all of the people over the past year who have closed their doors to me in one way or another.  The cliché (about hope) says the light is at the end of the tunnel, but I think the brightest light is within us.  While I may be knocking on your door looking for an opportunity to shine, I am well aware that there is a whole neighborhood full of other houses that I can walk to.  Slamming your door in my face or cowardly hiding behind it and not answering doesn’t stop me.  It just prevents you from having fun people at your party.

Oh, and the next New World just might be discovered by a bored valet attendant, so you better be thankful with more than just turkey, stuffing, and some cranberry sauce.  I would say throw in at least a twenty if she used your Rolls Royce…

Happy Thanksgiving!

Driving my first Rolls Royce through Beverly Hills.