Sunday, August 21, 2011
About the time Michelle and I got married we came up with a secret plan. The plan was that in two years we would move to Los Angeles so I could pursue acting. We didn’t tell anyone about it, and didn’t really feel like it would actually happen anyway. Well, it did happen, just three years after the time we had planned, and only one of us made it out here, but we did it. We’re doing it.
Today is the six month anniversary of my first post. I wrote about my drive out here and how nice it was to get away and drive, and how it was already harder than I thought it would be. Now, that period looks like the easier period.
This has always been a joint decision, but truthfully, it was my idea and my dream and Michelle was the supportive one going along with it.
So, for my six month anniversary post, I wanted to write a tribute to Michelle. After all, she is the one supporting me emotionally and, well, financially. She works for a school, so she’s not quite a sugar mama, but I would call her at least a Splenda mama.
This is tougher on Michelle than it is me. It’s definitely hard for me, but I’m the one experiencing new things and I’m the one that is active in this process. Michelle has to go back home to our house, that doesn’t feel like our house. My stress is the hustling, hers is the waiting. At least the hustling gives me a sense, that I have some control in this. Plus, she’s a planner, and we’ve been living for awhile without any semblance of a plan.
We constantly communicate and some days are more difficult than others. But, here’s the thing, even when it is hard for her, she is somehow supportive. At the end of last summer when I came up with the idea of visiting here for a week to see what I thought of it, it was Michelle who told me I needed to stop talking about it and book a flight, knowing where it might lead.
Ordinarily, if Michelle and I are out doing something social, I’m always the one that wants to stay out late and close the place down. When Michelle was out here for the summer though, our roles were reversed. She was all over everything. I think what we did in those six weeks was what other people do in a full year. She was a madwoman.
Plus, when she’s not helping me, she’s helping junior high kids as a counselor. How important is that? Basically, I am like a gaggle of junior high kids throughout this whole thing, and she just calls me into her office and listens. It’s just her nature.
(You can send her a nice note on Twitter, here.)
I ended my first post with this: “This is going to be tougher than I had envisioned, but great things usually come from tough situations. Right? Right?” I still wonder and hope for that, and I tell Michelle as much. I can’t pinpoint those things yet, I think that is more of a thing for retrospection. If great things come in relation to how tough something is, then Michelle is going to get a really great thing in return someday.
I think I’ll throw her a party with Arcade Fire playing a concert in our backyard. John Hamm will be there walking around with his shirt off. All of her best friends will be there. Everyone will comment on how great the garden looks, and how nice the house is decorated. We’ll serve really good coffee, and I won’t even mention that I think all coffee tastes like poo, she can just enjoy it on her own. Everyone will bring dogs, and they will all want to play with Michelle. At the end of the night we’ll lay in the bed in the dark and she’ll talk about how great the party was and how much more she appreciates being together since we spent so much time apart. I’ll just say thanks.