Well, I’m a Los Angeles resident now.

I’ve been living here for a little over a week, and so far the transition has been pretty tough.

I guess every big move comes with adjustments, but dang…

Before I left, I made arrangements to have most of my belongings moved here by a moving company.

I had looked them up before and wasn’t happy with some of the stuff I read, but then they called me back and the lady on the phone did her job by selling me the company and making me feel secure about my move and their company, so I went with them.

They picked up my stuff on April 30^th and promised that once I gave them an address my stuff would be there about 2 or 3 days after.

I could write all about the drama that followed after, but that would just be boring. Long story short, I have been promised 3 times that my stuff would be here, and I still have not received my furniture. I was once again promised that it will be here this weekend, and after getting off the phone with them once again, I was now told that Maybe my stuff will get here between Sunday and Wednesday.

To make matters worse, I just looked them up and they have a terrible history with the Better Business Bureau. Ugh.

Lucky for me, the first day I got here I ran into my old friend, Kevin, who offered me an inflatable mattress along with a blanket and pillow. If it wasn’t for him, I’d be sleeping on the floor.

Because I have no furniture, I’m not home much at all. So I spend most of my days walking around the city more than I’d like to. (Ask Kate Duffy; Cesar hates walking!)

I think because of this, the adjustment to the move is a lot tougher because I often get more homesick than would be normal, I guess.

I’ve walked so much that I’ve gotten to know Hollywood Blvd more than I cared to get to know it. When they refer to this stretch of land as the “Blvd of broken dreams”, they ain’t lying. Kinda sad, really.

In getting familiar with this street I’ve gotten familiar with all the crazies here as well. Oh, there are lots of crazies here.

Like, there’s the one I call “Scooby Shades”; a dude that walks around in shades day or night and always hanging on to a stuffed Scooby Doo doll. There’s also the one I call “Thug Not-Really”, a dude that walks around and randomly stops cars in traffic to flash fake gang signs at them and yell at the driver: “I’ll kick your ass you fat white boy!”, no matter who is driving or what their race is.

There’s also the one I call “Star Lover”, a youngish girl who I see late at night crying at the stars on the Hollywood blvd.

And just two days ago I met a dude I call “Dale Mexicart”. See, I was walking down the street and saw him up ahead fumbling with his cart.

I walked past him and somehow this set him off, because as I was walking, I heard steps and a speeding cart, and then he ran passed me while giving me the stinky-eye. Once he passed me by a few feet, he started to walk normal.

Then as he was crossing the street, his cart got stuck and I just so happened to walk past him again.

Well, he unstuck his cart and once again ran by me giving me the stink-eye.

So I decided to take on the challenge and started running. Before I knew it, I found myself racing a homeless man with a cart. I beat him, looked back and winked at him.

He looked sad and mad at the same time.

That’s a just a few of the crazies I’ve gotten to know. But I have to branch out to get to know the rest of the city because if I ever find myself walking down Hollywood Blvd. and “Scooby Shades” says “’Sup, Chicago?”, I will know I’ve spent too much time on this street and in danger of becoming part of the Broken Dreams Club, something I hope not to do.

At night I spend time at iO West, the sister theater to Chicago’s iO Theater. That’s been an adjustment as well in that things seem to be quite different in this theater, and that makes me miss iO Chicago a ton.

I guess I’ve grown accustomed to having that “Norm!” moment when walking into iO for so long, that it feels weird walking into a place that’s supposed to feel like home and feel like a stranger in a strange town.

From time to time I see people I knew from back home and that helps. But unlike home, people at the theater are pretty spread out throughout the city, so not many hang out because they have to drive home.

So I too go home to force myself to sleep, then it’s the same routine the next day.

But there has been some bright spots to my adjustment; Last week ended on a good note because I got signed by an agent, which is any actor’s goal when coming out here.

This agency seems really nice and seem to really want to work with me and do good things together. Some other Chicago folks whom I respect signed with them so that made me feel better about signing with them as well.

I’ve only been with them a few days and already they have had me go on 3 auditions this week alone, and good auditions too. I’ve never been treated so well in all aspects with an agent, so this is pretty cool.

I’m excited about them and hope to do great things with them.

Before signing with them, I seriously considered going back home for a week or two to figure things out. But they helped me feel better about lots of things.

Well, them and other friends I have here. Like Allyson Brown; this girl has been great. She’s taken me out of the house and has gone out of her way making me feel welcomed here. She’s a great friend. Her and Kevin are gonna get lots of drinks on me because if it wasn’t for them, I’d be one miserable kid.

As for the adjustment, I’ve talked to several people here and they all say the same thing: The first month is the toughest in terms of adjusting. They say I’m just going through the normal things a newcomer to the city goes through and that things will get better.

I’m pretty sure things will start to get better and I’ll start to feel at home –especially if and when my stuff gets here-, but until then, I’m currently in an adjustment period with seemingly good things on the horizon.

So when the homesickness kicks in and I badly crave the life I left behind, I remind myself that I haven’t been here that long, that I have great friends here, I have great friends and loved ones at home sending me their support, and that I got signed by an agency that likes me and is showing it.

Then I take out my phone and look up something my good friend Steve told me before I left:

“…go make the world laugh, bitch. Quit worrying about where you’ve been and enjoy where you’re going.”

Then I look out my window and I’m like: “Bring it, Bitch.”

Then my dogs go: “Hey Asswipe, when’s our stuff getting here?

Then I go: “Maybe between Sunday and Wednesday. Maybe.”

That’s the first 14 days.

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A long time ago, I finally was able to afford getting a car I had this weird affection to: A 1987 Porsche 944

The same weekend I got the car, I found myself driving home on an almost deserted Lake Shore Drive in the wee hours of the morning right as the sun was coming up.

As I was driving I remember noticing how great the lake and the city looked and feeling like a confident giddy little kid that had finally gotten something he was after for a long time.

But that was years ago.

Early this past Saturday morning, I was driving on Lake Shore Drive to meet my sister who was taking me to the airport.

The sun was coming up and LSD was almost deserted. I noticed how great the lake and the city looked and I felt nervous and scared at the fact I was about to embark on a journey to try to accomplish my goals.

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Late last year, I decided that I finally wanted to give moving out to Los Angeles some serious thought –again. (If you’ve read past posts you’d know I almost did it 3 years ago)

Well, I gave it some serious thought but in the end, money stood in the way and there was no way of getting my hands on that kind of money no matter what I came up with. So I sort of let go of that dream and continued being happy doing what I was doing in the city I loved living in.

After a rough year that included the closing of a significant artistic door for me, this year started off great. I started booking some great gigs and before I knew it, if my calculations were right, the minimum amount of money that I thought would be needed for a possible move out west was going to be available by the end of April.

I think fear of the unknown kicked in because although I gave it some thought, I didn’t really give it some REAL thought and almost tried to ignore the situation I might be in.

Then another artistic door closed for me.

I’m a cheesy believer that things happen for a reason, so I took a look at what was happening to me this year and after some long serious thought and calculations, I decided to try to make the move out West.

The first step was letting the place I called home know of my plans.

I met with Charna, owner of The iO Theater, and told her what was going on in my life, and how that led me to believe I should make the move.

Actually acknowledging and saying out loud that I was going to be leaving the place that I held so dear to my heart hit me like a ton of bricks and I got a bit emotional about it.

Charna was sad to see me leave, but she gave me her blessing and helped me plan my future and a good bye tour of sorts.

For the next month I was an emotional wreck. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of the people I had met, the people that I loved, and the theater that I loved.

If the thought of having a “last show” crept in my head, I had to force myself to think of something else because it was embarrassing getting teary-eyed on the bus.

If this was so hard, then why leave?

Well, so that I never have to wonder “What if”.

I think a lot of people in the community I’m a part of would like to make a living entertaining, and I’m no different. For most of us, the dream is to get plucked out of Chicago. With the right doors open and the proper talent and drive, I believe that is still very possible for lots of people in Chicago.

Unfortunately for me, the extra avenues for this to maybe happen for me someday from Chicago had been re-routed or closed. So I had to make a decision to go after my dreams and goals elsewhere, where the perception or belief is that there are many more doors cracked open for people with my background and training.

So I made a decision to give it a try, but I also promised myself not be ashamed to come back if I didn’t find that the move was benefiting me artistically.

In our world, we’re always told that We are our own business and that We must do what’s best for Our business. I’ve never been good at that self-promoting stuff, but if I was going to make this move, I better start getting good at it and follow the fear.

I spoke to close friends about my plans and to the tee, they were super supportive, encouraging, and helpful.

So the decision was made.

With almost no real advance warning to even myself, I had to go through the process of making moving plans and letting my friends and loved one’s know of my plans and intentions.

I decided that my final show would be a Monday night ‘Armando Diaz Experience’.

This is a show where the cast is driven and inspired mostly by a person’s monologue(s) who is called “Armando” that night.

I already had a crazy fun ‘last night’ with my regular Harold team, so I figured being ‘Armando’ would take the pressure off of performing and would be an easy and calm way to say good bye.

I was happily surprised how many friends and loved one’s came out that night, and of course got a little nervous. For a suggestion, I asked for a question that had nothing to do with what I was wearing or this night in particular.

Someone yelled: “Where am I going?”

Oh, boy.

Rather than let the question (that may been rhetorical ) drive me to talk about where I myself was going, I decided to let it make me think of where and when I have heard that question.

The wonderful cast that night was amazing. They had a great show and the more I watched from backstage, the more I felt that I was going to be able to end the night on a nice simple high note with no personal break downs for me.

From back stage I have a view of Del’s ashes, so before I went out to try to end the show with a nice little tie or knot to the original question, I looked at Del and said ‘Thank You for everything”.

Oops.

I think doing so made me incredibly aware of where I was.

This is the same stage that I started performing on a long, long time ago under Del’s direction.

This was my favorite stage at the theater. The one I felt most comfortable on and the one that made me feel safe.

So as I closed the show, I felt compelled to share a little bit of that, and then everything snowballed out of my mouth.

What this place meant to me…what Del meant to me… what Charna meant to me…what the work meant to me…what my friends meant to me…and the realization that this was the last time I may be performing on this stage, and how much THAT meant to me.

I tried to keep together, but I couldn’t.

Am I embarrassed? No.

I was happy, proud, humble, sad, and grateful all at the same time, but not embarrassed.

The only thing I feel bad about is not properly mentioning or properly saying good bye to those I love, because I missed a lot.

I had an AMAZING time at iO Chicago and I am incredibly grateful for the friends this place allowed me to make.

For months I have been trying to write about this process but the fear of not knowing what was going to happen and the fear of getting emotional writing about this process didn’t allow me to do so.

I am now sitting in a Borders in Los Angeles writing this and stopping every 5 minutes because I’m trying to keep it together.

Leaving Chicago, Holly, my Family, Friends, and iO was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Hopefully it will be worth it and I will be able to come back and make those people proud that I gave this a shot to begin with.

To those I missed saying good bye to: I’m sorry. I hope you know I love you.

To those that showed me support my last week in Chicago: Thank You, I love you.

To those that closed those doors on me: Thank you opening them up in the first place.

To L.A.:

Les Do Dis.

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