Pieces.

The Prep.

"Mom, do you need this green bag in the car or can I put it in the trunk?"
"Will it fit?"
"Yeah. I fit everything I'm bringing in four bags. Two are in the trunk, two in the back seat."
"Well, yes then, put it in."

Fast forward 10 minutes.

"Mom, do you want the mini dvd player?"
"No. I have my book and my Nintendo. But they're in the green bag."
"The one in the trunk?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to pull over."
"No. It's fine... I just thought I'd finish the book I'm reading."
"I can pull over."
"No."

Fast Forward 30 seconds.

"And I thought I might play my Nintendo a little."
"I'm pulling over."
"Well, okay. If that's what you want to do. I have some fruit snacks back there for you too."

I love that woman.


The Drive.

Memphis-Arkansas-Oklahoma-New Mexico-Arizona-California. $135 in gas.

We made it in 2.25 days.

This country is breathtaking, and driving across it was one of the best things I have ever experienced.

And the one thing I never want to do again.

Ever.


The City.

I felt at home as soon as I got here.

The weather is perfection. I live in the middle of everything wonderful. I've taken walks through The Grove, explored the park across the street that looks out to the Hollywood Hills. I can walk to Ralph's, Whole Foods and Trader Joes. Nearly every road leads to the beach.

I've seen my first facelift, a little old lady with curly blue hair and Robert DeNiro.

I'm close to one of the best dance studios in the country and will begin classes there next week.

Next Sunday I will walk down the street to the Kodak Theater and wait with all the other gawkers to get iPhone pics of the celebrities walking the red carpet at the Oscars.
I've found my Target store.

I am in love with LA.


Work.

My first day of work was good. The drive was scenic. The traffic decent. I didn't get lost. I made it on time. The work was interesting and challenging.

And then The Man arrived.

The Man was pleasant enough, but he didn't say hello, introduce himself or interact with me. I shrugged it off and stuck my tongue out at him behind his back for good measure.

It was liberating.

An hour later I took my newly liberated self to the restroom and in the middle of trying out different poses in the mirror, I glanced to my right and saw the urinals.

After thinking for a split second that they were actually excessively tall bedets, then wondering out loud why in the world there were urinals in the ladies' restroom, my senses returned. I hung my head in shame, whispered a pathetic, "oh.", trudged back to our suite and went directly to the office of The Man.

I streteched my lips into a smile and said, "Hi, I'm Kilah. I don't think we've met.". To which he replied, "It's nice to meet you! How is your day going?", rose from his desk and extended his left hand for me to shake.

I extended my right hand. He dropped his left hand, swung his right arm back and forth and stuck his left hand out again.

I turned and walked away.


Me.

I'm suspended.

In 2.5 weeks I accepted a new job that I hadn't even applied for, packed my life into four bags, said goodbye to everything familiar, drove across the country to a place I've never been and began anew.

This dichotomy of crippling sadness and overwhelming jubilation has thrown me for a loop.

I can only liken it to the excitement of getting a new 1000 piece puzzle that you've had your eye on for a long time, opening the box and dumping all the pieces onto the floor only to realize that a puzzle requires assembly.

You stand there stunned for awhile before you accept the fact that while what you wanted may look a little scattered, all the necessary pieces have been provided.

Your job is to figure out how they fit.

So you take a deep breath, grin, roll up your sleeves, kneel on the floor and start lining up the pieces.

                                         ---------------------------

Let the fun begin.