Home is where the heart is. At least that's what I used to think...
But if it were true then I should have never left Miami. At the beginning of November my world was once again in flux. My landlady decided to raise my rent and I decided to move out. And so began the month-long headache, ahem, I mean search for an apartment. After way too many "Hell no's" and "I would rather die's" I started to despair. On more than one occasion I had to be talked down from the proverbial ledge. A very wise friend told me "Bea, this is not a race. It's a marathon." But a race was exactly how I viewed New York: a speedy, furious race where the ultimate price was a glittering career. Why had I never thought of it as a long-term stay? Halfway through the month I put the apartment search on hold and flew back home for my sister's wedding. My baby sister was getting married and I couldn't be happier for the way her life was unfolding, so why couldn't I be happier for mine? Why was I so restless? I realized then that I'd been clutching on to my old life while still grasping for my new one. So that night I danced like a maniac with my cousins, kissed my mother a million times, and cried way too much during my maid of honor speech: it was time to let go.
I came back with the determination that if I was really going to give this a try all chips had to be on the table. More than anything external it was a shift in mindset and "home" became the place where I hung my hat. I eventually found the perfect nook in Brooklyn and now it was time to grow some roots, like paint the walls and buy a TV (kind of a huge deal for me). I had done it. I had my first grown-up apartment! It all felt so permanent and I had the sneaky suspicion that this was how it should have felt the first time around. Along the way I also managed to land a freelance job hostessing for a company's Facebook page- a job I could do anywhere as long as I had my Blackberry, a job I could do while waiting to be seen at an audition. Sometimes I don't give the Universe enough credit. As Thanksgiving rolled around I already had such a long list of things to be grateful for but as I looked around our table full of good food and wine, I saw what I most thankful for: my urban family, my home away from home, my friends. I am nothing if not for the amazing people around me and Miami wasn't going anywhere because home is not where the heart is but rather you carry your home in your heart.
Needless to say I didn't do much auditioning this past month or much of anything for that matter. And I simply can't apologize for that because for the first time since moving to New York I didn't feel stuck in a humdrum routine. So as cold December approaches I'll be nesting in my cozy apartment; curling up with new monologues and plenty of hot chocolate-filled mugs. I'm going to make snow bunnies, re-read Uta Hagen's book, put up a tree, create a new marketing plan, see Broadway shows, and take in all the beauty that is Christmas in the City. Come next year I'll be at it again full-throttle, guns blazing with the same drive that led me here in the first place. Till then I'll be reading Harry Potter 3 in my cocoon because it's a long and winding road and it is after all a marathon. And there's plenty of time. I live here now.
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