…retarded

I just passed our house, or what would have been our house. The new owner did nothing to it. What a shame. It made me ask the question… do you think we’re even?

I’m in Gulf Shores, Alabama. The first stop on my way back to LA. It’s a lovely little witesand, southern haven. I’m sure it gets crazy red-necky on the weekends, so I’m glad I’m shoving off on Friday. Next stop Nola.  It was Juma’s first time at the beach or seeing the ocean. The sea scaredhim half to death. I lifted him up and held him and I waded in the warm water, knee deep. Maybe he’ll be better today. 

So enough about you… what about me and what I did?  How am I responsible for this too?  I’m sure there must be reasons and blame on my side, but a one-way blog isn’t an ideal forum for feedback.  I may never be able to make amens in person, but without knowing my part in it, I’ll never be able to in cyberspace either. Whatever it is, whatever it was, I’m sorry. 

Thanks for the text. It scratched the scab, but the familiar pain is somehow comforting.  You know how many times I have replayed every day, every event, every argument or issue from Costa Rica?  Too many.  What the fuck happened?  You liked, even loved me me because I push back, and as you said “gave you the proverbial backhand” when needed. Every action and attitude was for it not to work. Fear, really?  After all that?  It still doesn’t make sense. You know where we’d be right now?  I mean besides in some lame argument…

The show, I mean. Apparently my poor relationship with the showrunner (head writer) is irreconcilable, so I’m leaving the show.  I don’t like to leave anything early, but there really is only one resolution, so I’m off. First stop Nola. I have to take a few days here to get my affairs in order, ship my clothes and kit, etc. it’ll be nice to be home after being gone for three months. It seems so much longer. 
PS, was out at a restaurant, sitting at the bar, talking to a girl, and Born To Run came on and pretty much brought the night to an end.  I don’t think I liked her anyway, so thank you. 

I don’t know if I “told” you, but I’m thinking of moving back to Nola. I bought that house with the intention of nesting with you, but since that didn’t happen I’m not sure why I’m there anymore. I’m trying to give LA a fair break, but I just don’t know if it’s home anymore. I’ve gotten used to a smaller town, and it may just be too much for me. I am going to do a renovation on the downstairs when I get home so that the downstairs is a completely self-contained unit. I’m thinking that I’ll rent out the top floor and keep the bottom floor for myself, when I come to LA. Or I may rent them both out.  Either way, with what I could rent the house for, I could take the profit and live in Nola virtually rent/mortgage free.  I would be able to save a ton of money that way, so it’s a huge incentive. Anyway, didn’t know if I told you. 

It was supposed to rain, but now it’s just cloudy and humid, as only the south can be.  I survived another week of this crap show, barely. My UPM however did not. I had to let him go yesterday. He’s a really good guy, but couldn’t manage the finances as well as he should have, and it left me stretched too thin. I have an inkling the studio may have cut me loose too if it wasn’t for my contract and they’d have to pay me out. As crappy as that would have been, I might not have minded going home right now. Speaking of going home, tickets went on sale for U2 and Beck in New Orleans. What a fucking line-up, eh?!  And it just so happens to fall as I’m passing through Nola on my way back west.  A little light at the end of this dark l, humid tunnel. I feel like Andy Dufraine in Shawshank Redemption, crawling my way through a half mike of shit to get to freedom (spoiler alert). Your mama texted me the other day. I owe her a reply. I’ll stop by and hang on the deck, and catch up when I’m in town. Dave has been busy with all that construction. Who knew he was such a carpenter. I should bring him out to LA to help me with my pergola. Have to run. Have doggie training in an hour. He’s a sweet but willful boy. Talk (one way of course) soon. 

I just watched the season finale. What a great show. The main character found the woman that he loved after year and years of searching, and as he expounded about how and why he looked, I welled up knowing that there’s still love in my heart for you, and it hurts. 

Can you believe they scheduled my high school reunion the same weekend???  The audacity. 

So fucking bored here.  It’s a cool city, but I don’t really have any friends here, and I’m not good at making new ones. I can make acquaintances easy enough though, but those aren’t real and bore me. I’m going to go for a hike tomorrow with the pooch. He’ll probably trip out. I’m sure he’ll stop every five feet and I’ll never even get to break a sweat. He’s such a puppy.  The show is still super tough, but I feel that now that we are shooting, things have eased up a modicum. It was a surprise to see your instagram request. I’m sure you were worried about what you might see, but as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s no one. I worry about the same, but quid pro quo, right?  Gotta run. I’ve been super-slack about exercise since getting the dog, but now that he can deal a few minutes without me, I’m going to get my sweat on.  Have a great weekend.