When we were preparing to move to L. A. we knew I would be earning quite a bit more, but we also knew rent would be outrageous for something decent. What we didn't realize was how much taxes and insurance would take out of my paycheck. I wasn't taking home as much as we had anticipated. Ryan had found a job working for pennies (seriously) at a bike shop in Manhattan Beach with an occasional side job selling window coverings. Our place was cute. It was a charming 1940's two bedroom apartment with hardwood floors, crown molding, lots of windows, loads of storage, and a big, beautiful tile kitchen located in West L.A./West Hollywood.
It even had an avocado tree in the back with an area for grow boxes. We lived 2 blocks away from Little Ethiopia (some of my favorite food), the Le Brea Tar Pits, and Museum Row where you can get in free after 5. But, to be honest, it was miserable. Money was so tight we couldn't do anything fun. Ryan was so busy driving back and forth between work and band practice that he never had time to actually work creatively on music. Plus, I had to deal with the occasional cockroach (I have a phobia), not to mention we lived a stone's throw away from a hospital where sirens blared at all hours of the day and night. What do you do you when you have 8 months left on your lease? I felt trapped. Land locked. I was withering away sounds dramatic, but I honestly felt that way. Too much noise. Too much cement. Too much smog.
When I was younger I had two visions of myself when I was older. I could never decide which was one was the "real me". One vision was of me living in a major metropolitan city like New York, Chicago, or even L.A., living in a high rise apartment with ultra modern and sleek furniture and abstract paintings on the walls. I would wear fashionable but severe designer clothing and work for a top design firm.
The other vision was of me living out in the country in an old farm house on a few acres of my own. I would have a couple of horses, a milk cow, chickens, goats, sheep, geese, and beehives. I would grow my own organic food, churn my own butter, make cheese, and bottle the abundance of summer for the winter months. I would sew and quilt and paint. I would be outside. I would breathe fresh air. I would be amazed by beauty every day. I would love to do what this woman does. Take some time and check out the site. It's pretty extensive. I really want to stay at her Bed & Breakfast.
Living in that charming 1940's apartment just outside the beating heart of the city has taught me that I am the farm girl more than the city girl.
Time for an upgrade.
I didn't exactly upgrade to an old farm house in the country, but it was a step in the right direction...even if it was an itsy, bitsy, baby step. Bekah put me in touch with an apartment manager, Beth, in her ward. The company Beth worked for needed another apartment manager at one of their properties in Valley Village. Ryan and I interviewed and Ryan got the job. He quit his job at the bike shop and we packed our things, broke our lease and moved a few days later. Although the apartment complex isn't as "cool" as our place in West L.A., it is cozier. It feels more like a home. It has carpet. I never thought I would want carpet, but I actually like it. I can do sit-ups (not that I ever do), without breaking my back. I can walk barefoot with out my feet turning black. Although there isn't a space to have a grow box, I have a balcony that I put my herb pots on. There are more trees and single family homes around and I don't hear sirens all night. The streets are wider and more open. It feels more like downtown Salt Lake/9th and 9th area than L.A. We even have a pool to swim in.
Upgrade.
Within a week of moving into our new place I felt less stressed, happier and more peaceful. We can actually ride our bikes without fearing for our lives, and we are within riding distance of Griffith Park or Balboa Park for a longer rides.
Upgrade.
Since Ryan is managing the 30 or so apartments we get rent and utilities free in addition to a $250 stipend. This essentially is the equivalent of Ryan making more than triple the amount he did at the bike shop. We can actually have a little fun now... like going to Six Flags Magic Mountain for our 1st anniversary...and start paying off my school loans.
Another upgrade.
(There should be a video here but it wouldn't load...help?)
By the way, I recommend taking ibuprofen with you to Six Flags. Ryan's phone fell out of his pocket on one of the rides and it was most likely smashed to smithereens. As a result we bought him the fancy new google phone...MyTouch.
Upgrade.
Because he works from home, Ryan has more time to work creatively on music and is only a few blocks from band practice. Before he left the bike shop we bought Ryan a road bike on a pro-deal. It's a pretty sweet ride. Now he has time to road bike with me.
I consider that an upgrade.
I might start to like it here. Ryan's making out pretty well with this change too.
