Apartment Hunting

I have to let go to move forward.

Why is that so difficult for me? Why do I question and worry and stress about the inevitable? Because I'm human. And imperfect. And constantly striving to be better, but sometimes I fail miserably. But that's okay because I learn lessons every time I fall. I have found a thousand and one ways that don't work.

We're moving and this stresses me out. I've moved 12 times before: from house to house following my dad to Naval Stations, out of my parents house and into the dorms, from apartment to apartment, carried over the threshold of our first house as a married couple. But this time it's intangible. 

We're moving for work, because Mr. E needs to be closer to LA, Hollywood, the studios. Because personal assistants or production assistants or any job that will hire a fresh graduate needs immediate availability. As in on-call be-here-now. And that begs for a smaller commute. 

So we packed ourselves and the dog into our car for a family trip to scope out neighborhoods and dog parks and Costcos (priorities. We have them). 

Mr. E has been doing a lot of shoots lately in the Burbank/North Hollywood area so he was better acquainted with the streets and shops there. We have a little scheme between the two of us for road trips: Mr. E drives to all the new places and I am the navigator, juggling the dog (who MUST be half-way out the window), the GPS, the snacks, the phones and the music. This is the optimal set-up because otherwise I get terrible road rage, especially in LA where blinkers are a novelty and merging onto the freeway is about as long as your stride. So stressful.

We hit Burbank first (beautiful), then Van Nuys (not so great) and North Hollywood (has bits of both...but mostly not so great). Mr. E and I are on the hunt for a neighborhood that feels welcoming and away-from-it-all, not just an apartment. Goodness knows I can create a calming space to call our own just fine- but if we're stressed out getting to our apartment then we're not calming anybody.

Dichotomy of the day? Driving through run-down cheap neighborhoods with giant billboards for The Great Gatsby oozing oppulence and extravagance. Good idea, Hollywood.

The day wasn't a total loss, though. We found many MANY good apartment complexes in areas we liked, so the Listy McListerson in my head was sated. Now if only we didn't have a mad case of the grass-allergies to deal with...Any home remedies?