Love, Career, or Both?

Ah New York. As soon as I got off the plane I felt a huge weight lift off my chest. I was back. The producers of a short I did this past summer flew me out for the premier (they are by far the kindest people I've ever worked with). I was there for just four days and it brought me back down to earth and grounded me in a way I didn't even realize I had needed. I need both LA and NYC in my life. When I was just in NYC I felt myself beginning to get bitter. Here in LA I tend more towards the lazy side. Being bi-coastal evens me out perfectly. I hope that the bi-coastal thing happens sooner rather than later.

Airports are some of my favorite places. They are full of love. Parents dropping their kids off for the first time, lovers saying tearful goodbyes, and couples reuniting. All of the love is beautiful. I wish that anyone against same sex marriage could have seen what I saw last night getting off the plane. Waiting at the terminal was an 80 year old woman's elderly lesbian lover. The joy and pure love that shone in both their eyes when they saw each other was palpable. These were two elderly women who had found their true love. They just kept holding each others faces and smiling like they were the only two people on earth. It made me happy to know that that kind of love can last.

For other people at least . . . I don't know if with my career choice I'll ever be able to hold on to anything like that. I want to . . . so badly. I just don't know if its possible. I wonder what older people would say about choosing one's career over love. My grandmother was an amazing singer and gave up her chance with radio big shots in order to get married to my grandpa. They had a fairy-tale marriage. The kind that you think only exists in books. But I always wondered if she regretted giving up on her dreams. Then again, your dreams don't keep you warm at night. . . I just have to trust that I can have both.

Ok, that's enough of that sappy tangent. I am going to go bury myself in work now to distract myself from these things called feelings. You did it again New York.