San Diego 2000
Life is built on the choices we make, an endless series of crossroads. Growing up is learning that every choice we make limits the options left open on tomorrow’s horizon. A seemingly insignificant moment can quietly morph into a point of no return.
I moved to San Diego on December 31, 1999. Besides the impending Y2K disaster and the dawn of a new millennium, the move was a major crossroads for me.
More than one person has asked why I left Los Angeles after film school. Some days I have sufficient answers to that question. Other days, I’m convinced those answers are bullshit.
This is what I knew:
• The City of Angels was killing me. Enough said.
• I was itching to work on my own artist’s vision.
• Perhaps most significant: the art of film made my heart sing; the business of film throttled me. Success depended on networking. I would rather stick a hot poker up my nose than network for the sake of networking.
I fell in love with America’s Finest City and haven’t left since.
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I needed a part-time job when I landed in San Diego and saw an ad for “kennel attendant” at a local veterinary hospital. What could be more fun? Walk the dogs, pet the cats, get a paycheck and meet a few friends while I move closer to that Academy Award.
And then God laughed. Again.
I fell in love with veterinary medicine. Working with animals nurtured a piece of me that nothing else could. I experienced first-hand how the bond between animal and human can call a person to a higher level.
I discovered the Holy in the eyes of every dog and cat I met. Ok, maybe not every cat. I’m a dog person. Cats befuddle me.
I became a dog mom many, many times over and realized that being a part of a pack brought me more joy than almost anything else I had done in my life.
A part-time job picking up poop changed me at a cellular level. That wasn’t part of the plan.
Working in veterinary medicine has been the one constant in my life over the last 13 years. Through fits and starts with writing, the death of my father, the disintegration of two significant relationships, a half dozen new apartments, an unwelcomed prescription for reading glasses and at least five more plans, I have stayed grounded in my close proximity to the lives of my canine and feline friends.
For the record, two cats currently share my house with me. I don’t necessarily claim them as my own, but we have managed a congenial co-existence. Except when they bring lizards into the house.
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For four decades I have chased the perfect ending to this bio. An admired, envied ending that finally wraps up all the potential I started with.
Some time in the last two years, I realized that in targeting the ending with such vigilance, I managed to miss out on a crapload of scenery along the way. I hate being a cliché.
So, I’ve decided to chuck the ending and stay present with my distant cousin, Ambiguity. She makes me itchy, but here goes…
I don’t know when or how this crazy ride is going to end, but until then, this is my To Do List.
I want to write. I want to finish my novel. I want to hang with my dog peeps at the beach. I want to laugh a lot. I want to hike and run and ride my bike. I want to tell my family and friends that I love them. I want to continue the search for the Sacred in every day, strive to be the most authentic individual possible. I want to meet adversity with compassion and grace. I want to honor God in the Other. I want to honor God in myself.
I want to pay attention and catch the scenery, maybe a sunset, sunrise, or twelve.
I’ll keep you updated on my progress. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go type up this plan.
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