I am one month away from the anniversary of my arrival in California, so I want to do a general life update for anybody tuning in late to what Jules calls, Jenni in the Valley.
Today, June 1st, 2018, is a Friday. I am 24 and fluctuate between 115 and 122 lbs. My hair is making a comeback from when I used to wash it every day. I live in Alhambra with a woman and her boyfriend is moving in this month. I’ll be paying ~$700 in rent. My neighbors and I are friendly. There’s
Double D the corgi-owning normie from Texas,
there’s the two Vietnamese aunties vying for my love via food,
there’s little Gina and her grandma,
there’s the stoner and his stepdad who look like they’re the same age,
there’s Norm and Norma who are both normie Calstate biochem students,
there’s Lion who wears a lion pin,
there’s Eve the leasing agent who laughs at me when I humor
Joe, the maintenance man who has most likely entered our apartment without permission based on the way my roomie’s dog barks at him,
there’s the corner apartment family that’s had bouts of domestic abuse issues,
and Tiff, who I hope is doing okay.
I fall asleep without needing to watch anything. I’m retraining myself to not need white noise. My dreams are coming back to me and they are always warnings I take very seriously.
When I’m happy, I jump up and down and say things like, “I feel like things are going too well. I feel like something tragic is going to happen. Like I’m going to die in a car accident.” When I’m sad, I walk around in the dark and talk angrily to myself. I eat junk and write on walls. I sit on the toilet and take hot, unnecessary showers. I clean and organize and rearrange my space until I’m happy again. I say yes to things not knowing whether they will be good or bad. I say yes to all the things at least once and probably twice. I am beginning to realize not everything deserves a yes.
I have a job I work at five days a week and an internship on weekends and the increasingly occasional evening. At my job, I serve people food. I have coworkers who both entertain and annoy. I get free coffee and all the cookies I could ever want. At my internship, I do whatever the curator asks me to do. I prefer the things people don’t prefer: vacuuming, dusting, holding pieces of wood in place for the artist, talking about gentrification with a different artist, showing I care very little about an unpaid internship at 24, etc.
There is a man I want to text me and a few men on the radar. I confidently think I can have them all and I only successfully used a tampon for the first time a few days ago. I still don’t like tampons. I want to be stronger, but more vulnerable. I think a lot about the kind of person I’ll end up with. I have no clue.
The only thing I do have a clue about is what I want to do with my life. I’m exploring venues of writing and finding what I do and don’t like. I’m befriending people who inspire me.
I’m learning I can be proud of who I am;
I can disagree with people even if they inspire me;
I inspire others;
and I space out so deeply, so often – thinking about the world, the people on it, the way it works and holds all our experiences – that even my closest friends think it’s much.
I ask questions nobody else asks. I do things nobody else does. And it’s all okay to say because it’s true.
This month I want to reexamine my health, career, and my financial goals. I’ll lay things bare? Bear? Because… nobody care.
A STOR¥ BY ? 