Rule #1

Chances are, if and when I decide to leave my toothbrush at your house, our "relationship" is about to end.

Maybe it's because I've begun to spend enough time with you / sleep at your house enough to say, "fuck it, I'm just going to pop this in the medicine cabinet... for tomorrow." Or maybe it's because when you see it, you're so freaked out by my (sometimes rapidly) increased comfort level you decide to stop answering my texts and calls. Or maybe I'm just making all of this up. Either way it happens, and it's happening. This occurrence has left me singing The Mighty Mighty Bosstones' "Where Did You Go?" for the last two days. Great.

I'm moving to Atwater Village soon, which is this quaint little neighborhood near Los Feliz and Glendale. It's half a block away from where I work, which will cut traveling expenses and increase sleeping time. It's going to be really nice to have my own space again, as I've been sharing since the glory days of Alumni Village. I can't wait to come home, close my door and play my music.

People have told me that it takes about 6 months to become acclimated to living in Los Angeles. It took one month for the excitement to wear off; two more months for the homesickness to bottom out; one month of counting down to a trip home and one week in NY to make me realize that memories are fantasies. I move into my new place, officially, on my six month anniversary- which, coincidentally, is my birthday.