Ragamuffin

When you’re nearly 30. And you don’t know anyone. And you don’t know anything. 

After living in Los Angeles for seven years, casually seeing that guy from Step Brothers, who shares the screen with Will Farrell, at Kinkos in Pasadena or dancing with that red-afro-ish-haired guy from Workaholics at The Short Stop that one time, I thought maybe moving to Dallas wouldn’t be so different. Maybe I’d casually encounter a Dallas Housewife (even though I had no clue what they looked like) or Erika Baddu (same) or the holy grail... Willy Nelson. 

Then I focused up. 

I set my sights and my instagram stalks after the ultimate Texas target. Leon Bridges. I became convinced that if I moved to Texas, moved to Deep Ellum, and slid into his DMs around our Birthday (we’re both July babies), he’d be unable to resist my Leo powers. 

So I moved to Texas... prepped and ready to find and fall in love with a super star. I’m a pretty reasonable, realistic person, if you can’t tell. 

Obviously, I spent the first six months crying every day. Not meeting Leon. So, I’ve come up with this helpful mini how-to move cities guide. Especially when you have to make adult friends. Yeesh. 

1. Get a box of tissues, a bottle of wine and expect to rewatch Parks&Rec seasons two through six a couple of times. Look, it’s just gonna happen. You don’t know anyone, going out to restaurants and bars alone is fine, but bartenders are paid to be your friends, so... you get the idea. Your friends are gonna be super far away, so sidle up to the next closest friend: Netflix serving you Lesley Knope and Anne Perkins. Oh, and that mystery bottle of wine you gambled on at Trader Joe’s. Memorize parts of the Galentines Day episode, yell treat yo’self and cry uncontrollably at the final episode even though it’s sappy AF. This is fine. You’re grieving moving and leaving a safe space. But note: make sure you drink water with your wine and Netflix. Otherwise you’ll walk into your new job for which you moved half-way across the country on a Tuesday with a hang-over. And that sucks. Don’t do it. Pull a Jesus and drink water and wine. 

2. Ok, so you’re mid-wallow, but force yourself out of the house. Put on pants... not yoga ones, and get your ass out of the house on a WEEKEND night. Remember all those good times you had with friends in those dive bars or fancy restaurants in your old city? You probably met those friends taking a risk going to a party or through other friends you kinda barely knew or heck at a weird Whole Foods wine tasting. If you don’t put yourself out there, even though you’re still likely mourning your old city like that old pair of jeans that just got a hole in the crotch so you can’t wear them anymore, you won’t find new friends. And you want new friends! So put on some big kid pants, go find a fun bar down the street from your house or a weird event you’d have gotten dragged to with your old friends in your old city and force yourself OUT. When you get tired and lonely, then go back home to Lesley, waffles and the gag. BUT you cannot wear those jeans with the crotch holes you’re mourning. Not cute. 

Oh! And go to the weird work happy hours too Sad Sally. Especially the ones thrown by vendors. You do your job presumably because you like that kind of work. So do your vendors. Maybe you’ll meet some nice people there. Either way, you’ll get free drinks with the benefit of exploring your city. So tell me how that’s a loss? Also, I met my best friend in Dallas this way, so... big advocate, huge.

3. Research the FUCK out of your new city. Pretend you’re in college again, stuck in the back corner of the library at one of those terrible uncomfortable desks trying to figure out how the philosophy of aesthetics applies to the evolution of Doctor Who. Just me? Ok. Cool. Anyways... maybe you’ll at least find a favorite restaurant or park or yoga studio or dive bar out of it? And you’ll always have that color coded, iconographic map that you can share with people. Juts me again? Ok. Cool. 

4. Treat your fucking self. You moved cities. You have no friends (presumably, I didn’t... I’m projecting), you probably have very little money because moving is expensive, your apartment feels like a black hole of emotion. DON’T GET SUCKED IN. Beg your mom for some mad money, an early birthday present, something then TAKE YOUR BAD ASS OUT. Go to a fancy ass dinner where you can make yourself a regular at the happy hour, eventually those bartenders will remember you like unfiltered sake, chenin blanc and salmon rolls. Find a good manicure spot so you can look at your nails and feel fancy all week. What’s your jam? Seriously, what’s your favorite thing to do in the world? Do that thing, indulge in that thing. You just did a hard thing, I cheers you with my glass of sake. 

5.  Don’t be hasty young hobbit! A very wise wizard once said that and he’s right. Moving takes time. You’re not going to love your new city in a day or maybe even a year. It took me five years to fall in love with Los Angeles and I’m still learning to love Dallas. But using my Netflix, big girl pants, treat yo’self moments and research helped. My dog is official “bar dog” at the mezcal bar two blocks away from my apartment where everyone knows my name and order. I met my best friend at a work happy hour; through her I’ve made all my best Dallas friends. One a random night I took myself out, I met my boyfriend. I don’t love the city yet, but I do love the people I found in this city. I’m not saying this is going to happen for you – if you’re a millenial like me, you have to manifest that destiny, duh. But also kinda like RuPaul says, “if you don’t love yourself, how the hell you gonna love somebody else?”

6. Force your old friends to visit you in your new city. They all have airline miles credit cards. Seriously, I don’t know one person who lives by bank account alone (but if they do, who are you and what trust fund do you have?). If they love you, they’ll come to you. Maybe even for Halloween when you’ll all dress up like “Heathers” and accidentally go dancing until 2AM with croquet mallets (which are apparently weapons in some parts of the city). Also, you have airline miles too. If you miss your friends, get on a plane. End point.