I now have my own room in an apartment I share with two ladies. One is a scientist, one is a musician, both are in their mid twenties.
We live a block and a half off the famous Sunset Boulevard, in (the not famous) Angelino Heights, a historically Latino Community. Most of the people I pass on the street are speaking Spanish. That won’t be true in 10 years, and they know that in a way that I can’t. They know that in the same way the unions in Wisconsin know that their future will be a darker version of the past.
The police station’s helicopter circles over head a lot. Mostly, I believe, because the station itself is only about a mile away. I haven’t figured out if they do this because they are pursuing someone, or if it is a preventative measure. I prefer to think of it as the latter.
Right now the city feels like a new pair of shoes that I wish were already broken in. The old shoes having been thrown out, all I can do is go through this process. I am hopeful and excited about it, but also nervous. I lived in West Virginia for most of my life and found that, some things, no matter how long you wear them will never be comfortable.
Other things just need a bit of living in first.