
My LA Anniversary + Story
The City Of (Lost) Angels = Home Is Where The Heart Is
Today marks my twenty-seventh anniversary of living in Los Angeles—and boy am I feeling nostalgic.
Way back on May 2, 1998, I finally arrived in LA—me, my not-built-for-towing Toyota, and a rickety 5' x 8' U-Haul Cargo Trailer—after a 1500-mile trek from Texas.
I had planned to arrive on May 1st, but somewhere between El Paso and Phoenix, I came down with the flu. That final stretch from Phoenix to LA was especially brutal. By the time I pulled up to my then-new-boyfriend’s place in Silver Lake, I was wiped out and sick as a dog.
Seeing the state I was in, he and two of his college friends followed me to my new studio apartment in Hollywood and kindly unloaded the entire trailer. I couldn’t have done it without them. So I counted my lucky stars, gave them money to buy dinner, returned the trailer, and then slept for two days straight.
That boyfriend and I only lasted a couple more years romantically, but our friendship keeps on keeping on. These days, it's mostly the occasional phone call or quick text. But just last week, I saw him for the first time in years—and like true Angelenos (both by way of Texas), we picked up cussing, discussing, and fussing. Like the old friends we are.
In the nearly three decades since, I’ve had my share of ups, downs, and all-arounds here. I even took a one-year detour to live and work in Silicon Valley.
And while I do know the way to San Jose, I also found my way back to Los Angeles. There’s just something about this flawed, strange, unpredictable city that keeps calling me back.
Now, as I plan my next chapter just outside the city limits—in Pasadena—I’m reflecting on how this city and this state, for all their chaos and contradictions, have always felt like home. Not the tidy, settled kind of home I once imagined as a kid—but the ever-changing, realist kind I’ve (mostly) enjoyed for over half my life.
Twenty-seven years later, Los Angeles is still the City of (Lost) Angels to me. And somehow, still, it’s the place I call home.
Keep Calm + Keep California Dreamin’!
Clint 🌈✌️
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ON THIS DAY = MAY 2
BIRTHDAYS
1885 = Hedda Hopper = American actress and gossip columnist
1894 = Norma Talmadge = American actress of the silent era
1895 = Lorenz Hart = American lyricist 🌈
1902 = Mabel Hampton = American activist and dancer 🌈
1903 = Benjamin Spock = American pediatrician, activist, and author
1922 = Roscoe Lee Browne = American actor and director 🌈
1936 = Engelbert Humperdinck = English singer and pianist
1946 = Lesley Gore = American singer-songwriter 🌈
1948 = Larry Gatlin = American singer-songwriter, guitarist, and actor
1952 = Christine Baranski = American actress and singer
1955 = Donatella Versace = Italian fashion designer
1960 = Stephen Daldry = English director and producer
1961 = Catherine Opie = American photographer 🌈
1972 = Dwayne Johnson = American actor and wrestler
1975 = David Beckham = English footballer, coach, and model
1980 = Ellie Kemper = American actress
1985 = Lily Allen = English singer-songwriter and actress
EVENTS
1611 = The King James Version of the Bible is published for the first time in London, England, by printer Robert Barker.
1949 = Arthur Miller wins a Pulitzer Prize for his Death of a Salesman.
1987 = Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)” is released as a single.
2012 = A pastel version of The Scream, by Norwegian painter Edvard Munch, sells for $120 million in a New York City auction, setting a new world record for a work of art at auction.
HOLIDAYS + OBSERVANCES
PORTRAIT + QUOTES OF THE DAY
“I remember when I chose acting I thought, 'This is it -- for the time being.' I didn't think I was finished yet. I still don't. I keep thinking about what I should be doing.”
Roscoe Lee Browne
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Thanks for sharing your anniversary thoughts on moving to LA. It all passes much faster than we imagine. Its a nice read getting a glimpse of someone's llife story.
I was born in LA but haven't lived there since I was 7 - and God has it changed! Still - familiar territory, if I was ever forced to move back, would be like coming home.