Location Association

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Los Angeles, CA:  As I drove around what seemed to be a never-ending maze, looking for my newly appointed temporary home in building "T," I finally found a spot near the entrance.  I was lucky this time. That spot will go up up for grabs as soon as I leave and I can only pray that there's another one available within walking distance when I return later that evening.  But no need to worry about that now -- I was curious to get into my apartment and see if it's anything like it was 15 years ago.

Entering the complex hallway gave me the same sense of déjà vu I had felt pulling into the guard shack off of Barham Blvd.  Walking past a few doors, the smell of weed permeated the air.  I entered my apartment and closed the door behind me, in hopes it would silence the mix of chatty girl voices, gangsta rap and a baby's loud cry, all within a few feet of me.  I dropped my bags and surveyed the premises: a clean, yet bland, one-bedroom setup with a kitchen, dining room table and living room that looked just like it did in the brochure. Nothing out of the ordinary, yet I could feel my chest tighten and my mind start to wander.

I was having location association.

It's similar to the smell of oatmeal cookies, fresh out of the oven, reminding you of your childhood home.  Or hearing Billy Joel sing "only the good die you young" and being transported back to your college bar, drinking pitchers of cheap beer, purchased with the help of a fake ID.  Except in this case, it's not just a reminiscence of a particular place, it's an actual reenactment of years before.


The Oakwoods are an international chain of apartments, designed for short-term stays in various cities around the world.  The Los Angeles Oakwoods (technically, via the USPS, but really more Burbank), are designed for 3 groups of people:  child actors, up & coming bands and college students.  I know this because I was a kid actor in an up & coming band (false, but fun to say)...  OR (more accurately) because I was an Emerson College student in 1997 and took a semester to live "abroad" in LA.

Overall, The Oakwoods are fine for what they are -- they offer affordable rent for people who don't want to live in a hotel for an extended stay of time. They provide basic apartment-living amenities, such a a full kitchen and a laundry room down the hall.  Plus, they have pools and grills and a convenient store on site that sells wine and snacks laundry detergent.  Is there much more that you could ask for?


But my initial experience here was a bit more complicated.  I'm from the midwest.  Going to Boston for 3 1/2 years was a challenging (yet amazing) experience, but living on the west coast was a whole other thing.  You have to drive everywhere.  There's traffic all the time.  And people are not super friendly while you try to change lanes (or in general, unless you can help them succeed in the movie industry).  And in 1997, there was no such thing as GPS's or google maps on iPhones.  We had a Thomas Guide, which was a physical spiral-bound book that showed all streets in the LA and surrounding areas.  When you wanted to go out, you planned your route with a highlighter and took the book with you (um.... everyone did that, right?).

Plus, 1997 was a huge crossroads for me.  I was graduating in May.  I desperately wanted to get into the music business, but still not sure how to.  I was told by everyone that I had to be in LA if I wanted to make that happen, yet my lack of finances and parental support would make that nearly impossible.  I spent my time praying that one to give and don't think I truly embraced the excitement of living for four months a few miles north of Tinsel Town, with THE REST OF MY LIFE looming before me.

Even though it's been 15 years, it's easy to slip back into past stresses when you're dealing with location association.  I decided to turn to my writing as a refuge and compare the then's and now's of living at The Oakwoods:

THEN:  I had to unplug the phone line from the phone and into my Compaq computer to connect to the internet (complete with the annoying sound of a dial up connection)
NOW:  Free wifi on my MacBookPro

THEN: I shared a room with a fellow Emersonian in a room with 2 single beds, as a part of my college room & board (which I would repay eventually with student loans)
NOW:  I have the place to myself with a surprisingly comfy king bed, as part of my on-the-road expense

THEN:  My days consisted of going to my unpaid internships and scouring multiple music mags for any openings into any job that would hopefully maybe lead to a road gig
NOW:  My days are spent driving to a studio lot where my musical boss of four years is filming a TV pilot for a show that will (hopefully!) air in the fall

Sure, there are still the multiple speed bumps you have to drive over to get to your unit and annoying children and band members (same same) to avoid, but I wonder if this introspection has less to do with the physical location and more to do with my feeling of where I was then and where I am now.

As I write this on my 8x4 "patio," drinking convenient store wine, I hear a song playing from another window. It's "Thank U" by Alanis Morissette.  After further research, it turns out she wrote it in 1997. Thanks to Wikipedia's analysis, "the lyrics, such as 'thank you terror' and 'thank you frailty,' lend the song a sense lyrical reflection on cynicism, despair, personal triumph and hope."

I can't help to compare it to my own personal journey at The Oakwoods from the terrified and searching young girl in '97 to the more confident yet still (and always) searching not-as-young woman in '12.

Granted, the girl playing that song at The Oakwoods was probably listening to it on the oldies station.



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