And the decorator said, "No more apartment white...EVER!"

*UPDATE*: Check out this video story on Coastal housing from MSNBC - it will require Windows Media Player. Link here --> http://tinyurl.com/c7b2b
BE FOREWARNED: This post is a tinsy bitty bit long, and probably wouldn't seem so if it didn't skip around so much. After work last Friday, I drove to LA for the three-day M.L.K. weekend, unbeknownst to my honey-man! Yes, this means that when I arrived late that night in LA, as I unlocked the door and walked in, my honey-man was completely and most utterly stunned. It was a priceless moment, followed by a most welcome, most wonderful weak-in-the-knees "welcome home" lip lock. A Secondary 'PREFACE' of Sorts: In the case that anyone finds themselves confused at any point while reading the rest of what I'm about to share, juhhst for the record: I had a great weekend, I love and adore my Cali boys, and I still plan to move to California.

True to form, like any previous visit to LA, this past trip was fully loaded with lots of near-death-experiences amidst LA traffic and many mind numbing moments of self-discovery in which I have to not only recognize, but identify and deal with various personal fears and insecurities-galore on my part ~ And lucky for me, it's all with the most gracious help and support of my honey-man. I'm not kidding though. EVERY SINGLE TIME I go to LA to see my honey-man and his oh-so adorable angel boy-O, I always, ALWAYS have at least three mini-heart attacks while driving, and at least one, if not two, semi-minor, yet monumental, majorly painful, yet oh-so-healthy-for-me growth spurts. ooh! where the hell did that come from?!? did you see that? - "majorly" - ??? Is the Valley-girl mentality setting in already? EKK!!! Translation, minus the Valley-girl dribble: Nothing horrible ever happens when I visit LA and nothing ever changes physically, but at some point during each trip, some sort of personal "truth" is discovered and realized, and either my mind or my heart -or both- is greatly affected as a result = something happens that CHANGES HOW I SEE things.

So during this last visit, the seemingly brutal reality of living a life in California sank in deep, real deep, and I'm not just referring to the "dollars 'n' sense" part of it all -or should I say, the total lack thereof- which has already been seriously screwing with me for a few months now. K, so one might ask, "Huh? brutal? how the heck?" I'm talking about my mental preparations to move to Cali. It's become far more than an 'on paper' decision; more than simply scribbling the math on a piece of scrap paper. More honestly, it's gone far beyond my entering ALLLL the $$$ numbers in an Excel spreadsheet (as if the scrap paper calculations were terrifying enough!?!), ESPECIALLY after we looked at a couple apartments together! Speaking of which, I must digress for a secky and say that I found it very encouraging, nonetheless, that I liked the very first apartment we looked at and so much, and it was NOT $1700/month. By the way, if it had been that much? $1,700 is just $17.00 shy of my friend, Poppy's monthly mortgage payment!

Anyhow, back to "the seemingly brutal reality of living a life in California..."
When I first met my honey-man, I knew a relationship with him would mean I'd have to move to Cali. I knew it, without a doubt, and I have already accepted the fact that by leaving Las Vegas, I'll be leaving those I've known and all that I know here, but I've done it before -change cities, that is- more than a few times now, and I've learned that everytime I move, I always meet and make new friends without forgetting the others from whence I came, and I always find new things to do, regardless of where I am. I'm a flexible girl that way, and I always adjust, and I'm sure it helps a lot too that I'm easily amused - - my father says I'm "fundamentally happy." But anyways, moving to Cali? specifically California? or let's say, even Manhattan? To live in a super big, uber-crowded city with migraine provoking traffic, and mega inflated real estate prices and increased living costs to match, a regular joe-shmoe (that'd be me) CANNOT afford a house - - not unless yer big time rollin' in the dough. Another thing to note with my frugal financial practicality in mind, trying to own a house in California doesn't make sense in today's market.

What all this means: By moving to California, I'm leaving behind a way of life and various lifelong hopes and expectations that I've been raised with since I was a child, that my upbringing has reinforced over and over, time and time again, and I've been holding on to these expectations for years now and not only that, I'm now giving 'em up - - giving 'em up for love. That last statement is the most significant, and involves the two primary root issues at battle inside me right now... #1: There's a long-standing set of expectations revolving around my desire to own a house, to have all that a modest house could provide for me and my family. I will not at this time go into my long, long list of the many, many clear-cut reasons why I want a house (the list does exist in my mind, but that's a whole 'nuther post). Moreover, I want to clarify that my wanting a house has NOTHING to do with material things or social status; having a house does not mean having designer furnishings or showing up the Joneses, nor does it equate "success." Furthermore, I'm completely aware that most people in this world do NOT own houses for various reasons, some by choice and many without a choice, and I also know many people grow up living in an apartment(s) and they have happy, healthy, full lives, but I'm trying to deal with MY expectations here. Whether my expectations are realistic or not is another matter entirely, but it's something that I now must deal with by moving to Cali, in that my life's expectations thus far cannot be met in California. And issue #2: In the past, I've done a lot of things in the name of love -my friends and my parents would all say I've done far too much and all too often at my own expense- but this time it's not merely a matter of petty cash or how I choose to 'invest' my time, or in past cases, waste my time on the projects/passions of a significant other. With this one -my honey-man- I'm really starting over; I'm moving even further away from my family and I'm giving up a kind of quality of life that simply cannot be acquired or recouped in California.

BUHHHT I will stop there and quit rambling in such an obtuse manner about my personal on-going struggles re: the California lifestyle and all its grandiose living expenses. All this stuff that I think I'm giving up by moving to Cali? I may, in turn, end up having more than I ever dreamed I'd ever have. We just never know what's in store for us. Although I will say this: I still think they ("they" being anyone living in Cali) are ALL BUCK NUTS, including my honey-man, and that I still can't believe I'm going to willingly become a part of the they I'm now referring to... yet I never thought I'd ever live in Las Vegas either, better yet, willingly remain in Las Vegas beyond 6 months' time - make that SIX YEARS!?!

Annywaaaays, the title of this post is the very same as the title that was given to the listing description of the first apartment me and my honey-man looked at together, and I've included the original listing below with a couple pics my honey-man took later the next day:

"Rich, warm cappuccino walls in living and dining rooms with whipped creme crown and chair moldings. Huge mocha latte' kitchen with hand laid white Italian ceramic tile floor (there's that whipped creme again!). Custom art deco and tiffany replica fixtures throughout. Floor to ceiling wall to wall closets in the two huge bedrooms. Bathroom features more sparkling white Italian tile floors. Closets everywhere and storage, storage and more storage. Put a butcher block in the center of the kitchen if you love to cook and/or entertain, and still have tons of room! Rich wood floors throughout!! No, you aren't dreaming, it's for real and is nestled in a tropical like setting of tranquility and peace. Gorgeous swimming pool, your own very private patio that is larger than some single apartments, reserved covered parking w/storage unit, laundry facilities. It's double the size of any other two bedroom you can find, and is truly your own very private home. All this and yet it's only three minutes from the heart of the 'kuhl', happening arts district, great restaurants, shops, activities. Why yes, as a matter of fact, IT IS JUST PERFECT!! $1,295.00 w/year lease. Kitty will love all that room and windows, but sorry, no pooches. It's available now, but won't be for long."

The listing is soooo hysterical, is it not? We had to see the place and I had to share the listing's verbage here... Oh, but the place??? First of all, I've since learned that the word "huge" is simply a relative term when referring to any living space in California. The apartment was neither huge, nor was it "nestled" anywhere -however- the bedrooms were much bigger than I had thought they'd be and the closet space was ridiculously AWESOME, literally floor to ceiling, wall to wall! At this very moment, I'm coveting those closets. The wood floors were like new and the paint was, indeed, "warm" and the place was generally charming... a tab bit dark (ground level), but the living space felt very open, plus there's another 7 yr old living in the complex. In short, we liked it enough to apply, BUHHHT we don't know yet if we'll get the place, so the search is still on in case we may discover a better price and/or a better location.

All fingers and all toes are crossed, hoping that we'll find that right place we can call "home" in California, together. Also hoping that I'll calm my shit down and open my arms to the possibilities ahead.