The Humbling Bathrobe

I was getting ready to leave my grandparents’ house, dressed in my favorite new super cute, Lucky Brand Maxi Dress. I was feeling sexy, confident, and soooo LA. As I pulled my suitcase toward the door my grandma stopped me, touched my dress and said with a voice full of concern, “Aren’t you going to take off your bathrobe?”

God bless my grandma.

Remember when I said “I always feel so much cooler here than in LA.” Well, thanks to my grandma (and a few others) I also feel so much humbler.

I always think I will excite my friends and family with stories about celebrity sightings, fast-paced city life, and crazy auditions. But when I arrive, stories at the ready, I realize how ridiculous, self-centered, and boring I sound. Nobody cares (and why should they) that I am living in LA. No one cares that I saw Lucy Lieu at the gynecologist (ok, ok, I’ll let it go….) Nobody cares about things like that. And thank goodness.

In Los Angeles, I can get so wrapped up in myself. What movie I audition for, what car I drive, what restaurant I frequent. In my hometown, people care if the crops will do well this season, where you can get the best roast beef (Valley Meats in Valley City, ND) and whether the school will stay open for another year. They care that I'm still the same person I was when I left, that I am happy and healthy, and that I visit when I can. When my ridiculous stories fall on deaf and indifferent ears, I gather my pride from the pieces on the floor and remember that it really doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that I still have two amazing grandparents that care about me and get excited when I guess the puzzle on “Wheel of Fortune,” that I have friends that still love me enough to put up with my silly LA stories, and that I have a place I can go to get some perspective.

And Grandma, now that I look at it, maybe my dress does look a little like a bathrobe…