This blog...

is like an addiction for me…

or a new love.

I love the first feelings of meeting someone new.

Don't you?

I love what happens to the mind - exploring daydreams, seeing yourself in new, fun and different circumstances. You get inspired. You start to get to know yourself again as you teach the other person about yourself.

What about rediscovering the familiar?

Revisiting feelings that are fantastic, romantic and provide that ‘time stood still’ feeling that often gets spent solely on childhood memories.
The first time you ever kiss someone, the first time you fall in love, get your heart broken, accomplish something great, get recognition from a loved one, witness something breathtaking, take part in something amazing, feel beautiful, touch someone's heart.

As we get older, we feel it all again and again, if we are lucky, but sometimes get desensitized to the magic of living with feelings that are no longer new, but just, part of life, happiness, success, pain and failure.

It's been a few weeks that I've been back in NY and I feel like time has paused, there has been no holiday, no one else exists, there is no life in California, there is just my family and the fact we are facing, as a unit, the battle against a disease.

Everything was still up in the air for me before I left LA.

The medical 'band-aid' I was using to substitute for surgery was not the appropriate fit and I was either to live in discomfort for the three weeks I would be in NY with my family or go down to Long Beach and pick up the new prosthetic (see previous blogs for details). Ok, I don’t have the time to go to Long Beach, so I will have to live in discomfort until ’09 when I can get down there and get re-fitted.

Time was still ticking away for my homelessness but I was resigned to let it all go and deal with the greater needs of my family. I’ll still be homeless when I get back.

I was fully riding the crap of my current life and new that better was just around the corner.

Two days before I left for NY, I just so happened to look at the Westside Rentals on line rental list, one more time, to see if they had any new listings. Surely there wouldn't be a new post, with my requirements, in Santa Monica less than a week from Christmas....

But there was.

A single,

with a kitchen and a bath,

in my price range,

in Santa Monica,

with parking,

AND, 1 block from the ocean!!!

This one is mine!!!!!!!

I woke up early the following day so that I could be the first to see the apartment.

It was the one day this year that we had pouring rain alllllllll day.

I recruited Bryan and we went to look at the place together.
He's extremely finicky when it comes to searching for a place to live and since we've had four apartments, two cities and eight years together, I knew he would give me the unedited, crucial opinion I needed to make the decision as to if this would be my next home or not.

I didn't know the area he lived in too well, so after I picked him up; I told him he could drive us back to Santa Monica.

As soon as we got into the car and drove around the corner, with the roads as slick as they were and one LA driver's head in the clouds, we were rear-ended.

One should always be as cool as I was in this accident.

After I told a friend of mine that I was in an accident he said, "Really? What more?"
I said, "Of course!" and, “it’s ok!”

I took it in stride as just another thing to add to the list of voodoo magic making its way like the flu, through my life.

Soup and toast, is right around the corner.

It was a lesson. It is like that thing that happens when you are in love and in the best mood ever.
Then you get a parking ticket.
It just doesn't seem to matter much.

So, we know what its like to feel such happiness that we don't care if little things happen.
The same goes for extreme pain.
Things already suck.
Then we were rear-ended.
Everyone was ok, physically.
The cars would have to be repaired, but it's just another thing to take care of and it will be taken care of.

Besides, I'm on my way to see my new home and nothing, not even a car accident or rain is gonna keep me from seein' it!

There it was.
And there I was.
On the floor, crying with glee and relief.
Bryan, laughing away at me.
This is it.

To save you the details of the rest of this story, it was not, in fact, easy to get this place.

Self-employment aside, they wanted something more and I was rejected.
I got the call that night, as it was still pouring, right before a jeep cut me off on Sunset Boulevard and ricocheted a stone off its wheel and smashed my windshield.

The day before I left, I felt like Kiefer Sutherland AKA Jack Bauer in the critically acclaimed TV show, 24.

I had with a ticking clock in my head.

Six hours before I left for NY, I called the apartment management company and asked them to take a cosigner.

I faxed the paperwork to my mom and she filled out the info.
Only, she was worried that because she was a self employed realtor, that she might also be rejected. She filled out the information for my dad and in his weakened state, he signed his signature and my mom faxed the lease back to the management company.

And I waited.

Five hours before I left for NY, my doctor called. He was driving up to LA. I could meet him to pick it up the new prosthetic, if I want.

I want.

Four hours before I left for NY, I meet my doctor at a Starbucks. It looks like a drug deal, on caffeine, as he takes out his medical bag and hands me the latex insert to help my bladder.

I laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants.

He told me, “well that’s what we want to avoid!”

I gave him a hug and happy holidays.

Three hours before I leave, I get the call from management that my father and I have been approved for my worth the wait, better than all the rest apartments. I need to drop off a very large certified check before the office closes in one hour.

I have the money in the bank from the last apartment I lost so now, all I have to do is get to the bank, get the check, get to the office, sign the lease and it's mine, January 8th. Woo Hoo!!!!

Two hours before I leave for NY. The sun is setting.
Washington Mutual, apartment management 10 minutes before they close.
I see the lease with my name and the name of my dad, Richard Searle. It's sad and sweet. The idea of him, having an apartment in LA, with me,somewhere warm, where he would love to be, where he will never see.

1 hour, get my bag and crawl through traffic to get to the airport.

Crawl.

Be prepared to arrange for another flight.

Get to the airport.

Check in.

Sitting on airplane.

Chatting with make-up artist to the stars.

Cute, but gay as the day is long.

Take my Xanex-like-drug left over from my last medical procedure.

Wake up.

Descending into JFK.

Bag is the 43rd one out.

Sister is around the corner.

Coffee is even closer.

Home is soon.

I've come so far.

We've only just begun.