So, I rented a car on Saturday and drove up to my old hometown.  Part of me is glad I did it, part of me is still regretting it.

I haven’t been back since I moved out to Los Angeles.  It’s been six years, so I had the mental snapshot in my head of how things used to be, and while I rationally knew it wouldn’t all stay frozen, I kind of emotionally thought things still might be like they were back in 2002.  I got the rude awakening literally the moment I got off the highway, when I found myself staring at a Starbucks that didn’t use to be there.  And it wasn’t just that there was a brand new huge Super Stop & Shop where the local motel used to be and that there were new businesses all over the place, it was that some of the stuff that I was used to wasn’t even where it was supposed to be.  Like the video store I used to work at — I pulled into the parking lot, only to find the place closed and a sign on the door saying they’d moved a mile up the street to a brand new building.

My next stop was the bakery where I used to get these things called chocolate logs — they took chocolate chips and made a log out of them with frosting, baked it, then surrounded it in phyllo dough, put more frosting on top and baked it again.  It was sheer decadence, and I wanted one.  So imagine my surprise when I walked in at 10:30am, only to be told that they were sold out.  I plaintively blurted out, “But I’ve been waiting six years for one!” and then asked about shipping… they don’t ship.  As I walked out of the bakery, I heard the woman behind the counter say, “Great, I’ve apparently ruined someone’s childhood… and it’s only 10:30am.” After that, things continued to go downhill when I visited my old high school, only to find that they’d built a new addition that dwarfed the original building and connected the two by knocking down walls, so I didn’t even recognize some parts of the school I used to walk through every weekday.

Finally, some stability when I met up with an old friend and his parents (they used to be our neighbors) at my old pizza place for a gorgonzola pizza, which they thankfully still made and had some around.  But on the way back, we saw the current residents of my old house standing around in the driveway… so I went over and asked if I could take a look around.  Big mistake.  You know how everyone says that the house looks smaller when you come back to it as an adult?  They aren’t kidding.  The place looked tiny.  In my mind’s eye, I could still see where all the furniture was and how things looked when they were set up when my parents and I lived there, and it was depressing to see it changed… and small.  But what really freaked me out was when we went downstairs to my old room — despite the fact that the house has turned over twice in the past five years since my folks sold it, the curtains my mother made are still hanging in my old room, and the wallpaper my parents put up in my old bathroom is still there.  Seeing those remnants still there tied me to that house a little, and it almost prevented me from getting the closure/emotional divorce I needed. 

But most of the effect I needed came a little later, when I was walking around downtown and the beach with another old friend… That town is no place for me, I realized.  While it was a great little place to grow up, I spent most of the time with that friend talking about my life out in Los Angeles and how I enjoy what I’m doing and the kind of life I’d built for myself out here.  There may be things I hate about L.A., but there are also things about it I really like, and I’m okay with that balance, since it would probably exist anywhere.  And I’m comfortable here. 

In Garden State, Zach Braff’s character talks about how between the time you move out of your parents’ house and the time you get married and start your own home, you feel homeless.  I identify completely with that, especially since I’m in that in-between phase.  But Los Angeles is suiting me at the moment, and it feels like the best home I can make for myself right now.