The Beach

I have arrived at a new revelation in this life, and, as revelations are wont to do, it is difficult to describe the moment of clarity itself, but conceptual warrior that I am, I shall  embark on a journey to elaborate, with metaphor, my trusty stead and confidante, by my side.

I now understand what it means to go to the beach on a day when it is too cold to swim.

Growing up land locked, the concept of a beach held a position of reverence in my mind. Seeing water without being able to see the opposite shore was a bit of a thrill for me all the way through my late teens, whereupon I went through a serious bout of moodiness and the only things I found thrilling were drinking, rugby, and touching boobs. I remember one cool summer afternoon amid the flat a's of rural Minnesota, gazing out over what turned out to be Lake Michigan and thinking that water must go on forever. Apparently, I had never heard of Canada.

I went on to date a number of beach folk, and, I should say, east coast beach folk because I do believe there is a difference. Lovers from Biddiford Pool, Maine to significant others who summered in The Hamptons for whom la playa was never further away than their Nantucket Reds or a glass of iced Chardonnay. Beach for them was less of an adventure and more of a given--a home rather than a destination. It occured to them but not to me that one could go to the beach as you were, sans coolers, towels, sunscreen, volleyballs, mar-gay-ritas. You could just go for a little while and listen, even when it was too cold to swim.

"Why would you go to the beach if you couldn't swim?" I thought. "That's like planning a trip to DisneyWorld during a thunderstorm when all the rides are closed."

I took a meeting yesterday in Santa Monica, which is something I do, and for those of us not so well versed in Los Angeles topography, that means I was right next to the beach. I donned my running shoes and a Jameson hoodie and went for a jog. On the beach. When it was too cold to swim. With the sun about to set.

Halfway through my jog I stopped to sit on a collection of rocks beside gulls and crashing waves and watched the sun go down. I should mention that I have a similar anxiety with sunsets as I do with beaches: a sort of New Year's Eve-esque fear that I'm not making the most of it and everyone else is having a better sunset than I am. I sat on the rocks and thunk. Let thoughts pass through my mind, casually reminding myself that I should really be meditating because I've been meaning to do more of that, sat... nam... but not really even trying very hard to do nothing.

And I watched part of the sunset. No self-imposed pressure to stay until the pink and golden orb broke the horizon, just watching it until I had watched it enough.

I didn't dip my toes into the water. I lingered for as long as I cared to linger, and then I got in my car and drove away.

It wasn't a beach day, it was a day I happened to spend about an hour and a half on a leisurely jog with a little bit of sunset.

Once home, I closed my eyes and gathered in my hands the memories of all my beach days, each one sizable and heavy, adding to the pile this tiny little moment, which, strangely, was enough. All the days I didn't make the trek to Coney Island or to my lover's house in Long Island because it was too far. There was too much expectation. Who has a whole day to waste when there is so much on the line?

But I live next to the beach now. I can go there anytime I want. Even when it is too cold to swim.

Scout on Scout

SD: So, Scout. We hear you moved to Los Angeles to be famous. Are you famous yet?

LS: Yup. Sure am. 

SD: Really?

LS: Nope. I actually just took my first job waiting tables in as long as I can remember. Training starts next week.

SD: That sounds depressing.

LS: Meh, not really. I have a couple of new exciting developments coming in, and I feel generally positive about the direction my life is headed. The service job was more because I moved three months earlier than I expected, so I didn't get to save as much money as I had hoped. And out here I'm not doing any cabaret, which was my job in NYC, so it was either find a new job for the next couple of months or live off Ramen and say a nightly prayer to the credit card fairy. I just got some exciting news yesterday, though, so depending on the timing of things, I may only be slinging classic French Bistro fare for a week or so. Life changes fast out here, and having lived as a starving artist in NYC for most of my adult life, I decided it was time to go above 14th St. and get a real haircut for a change, which means having the cash to pay for it. Service job, j'arrive!

SD: No cabaret!?

LS: Not yet, but as I said, there are some exciting projects in the works. I think I needed to totally unplug before I was ready to reboot. I'm rebooted now, have a newfound addiction to coffee, and am ready to rock. There was a lot I needed to let go of, a lot of listening to myself and downloading meditation podcasts, and then listening to the meditation podcasts, which I did. There was some hiking that needed to happen, and a lot of journaling. I talk to my mom way more often than I used to, which is amazing. Man, that woman sure has lived an incredible life, and I feel lucky every day to have her in mine.

SD: Yeah, yeah. Your mom is an angel. We know. More on these new developments. What can you tell us?

LS: Nothing is in the bank just yet, but I just pitched my first project, which is exciting and helpful in building the confidence and skills and confidence in my skills to build towards pitching even bigger projects. Letting things get quiet is a great way to listen to what the universe wants of you, no lies. It's scary when things are quiet in the biz because not working is the ultimate fear of any performer, but there are some amazing lessons to be learned by letting yourself totally check out for a while. Oh! And I have new videos coming out soon, which is great! They involve puppets and my ukulele, which are a few of my favorite things.

SD: Do you ever go a day without quoting "The Sound of Music?"

LS: Sure! There are plenty of musicals to quote.  You'd be suprized how often shouting "good morning, Baltimore!" makes perfect sense.

SD: You are quite the wordsmith, Ms. Scoutington.

LS: That's Dr. Princess Lady Scoutington to you, Ms. Durwood. I didn't get a phd in cuddling for people to call me Ms. Yeah, out here they're having me do a lot more writing than I'm used to, and by writing, I mean staring at my computer and wishing I were more clever than I actually am. Just kidding. It's a little writing joke. If you were a writer, you would understand. No, but seriously, writing is a huge lesson in being kind to yourself. You can't force yourself to be hilarious. You have to love yourself and inspire yourself, and work hard and tease the funny out. Alternatively, you can lock yourself in a room with a pot of coffee and a large bottle of cheap red wine, stay up all night and cry for a while. I've gotten good results with that method, too.

SD: You are quite a drinker, eh?

LS: Yes! I am. So much so that I made myself give up drinking for a month to make sure I'm not an alcoholic. I threw up on the plane flying back to LA from NYC before we even took off. Maybe it's because I'm a bad flyer, maybe it's because I was up super late drinking whiskey and playing bocce ball the night before I flew, maybe it was because sometimes I look at my twitter feed and realize that I don't remember tweeting about a third of what I send out, but whatever the reason, I decided, barf-bag in hand that I needed a break. It's all sober for me until February uno!

SD: Do you think you're going to make it?

LS: I already cheated. I had wine with dinner the other night, then a couple of drinks at a bar after to grease up the ol schmooze monster. The next day I woke up with a migraine, so it's back on the wagon for me. On the upside, I am taking a lot of cold and sinus medicine because all this flying has given me a sinus infection, so at least I'm not totally sober.

SD: Wow. That sounds like the makings of a proper celebrity drug addiction if I've ever heard of one. Let us know when the diet pills come out. We'll get your made for TV movie special going for sure!

LS: "Poor Life Choices: The Lady Scoutington Story."

SD: Speaking of poor life choices, how's the love life?

LS: I mailed an extremely important letter to my ex, and am now saying a prayer to the US Postal system that she gets it. Either way, I feel pretty good about things. I'm keeping busy, and I just finished sharkweek.

SD: Wow. Looks like you have nothing but good things ahead of you.

LS: Thanks. I feel good and am just trying to stay positive.

SD: Yeah, but are you famous yet?

LS: I said... I feel good and am just trying to stay positive.

SD: Well, thanks for taking the time for the interview. Best of luck with everything, and you know we always have your back.

LS: Thanks, Scout. Learning to love myself has been a huge lesson, so I appreciate your support.