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Personal Narrative: A Career In L. A.

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My lukewarm acting career in L.A. had turned cold. I was twenty-two and lost. Therefore, I got swayed to move to Berkeley with my boyfriend, Mark, after he received his acceptance letter from UC Berkeley.
For his major, Mark decided on biological anthropology. I felt uneasy with his choice, since he had shown no prior curiosity in the subject, and the curriculum would be difficult. Also, he would need a Master’s degree or Ph.D. to land a teaching or research position at a university, or to work in law enforcement. Despite all that, he had made up his mind and planned to leave L.A. with or without me. I wavered, and then compromised. “I’ll try it for a while,” I said.
Mark’s sister, Vivian, lived in Berkeley. An advantage, since she was on the …show more content…

She lived in a two-bedroom, wood-framed house that she shared with her aging Alaskan husky, Alpine, and an occasional roommate. A globe trekker, she loved to cook her favorite dishes from around the world for us and her eclectic group of friends. Many of whom worked in Academia, the restaurant world and a handful of artists. Scott, her boyfriend from college, had graduated with a PhD. in molecular biology and was an assistant professor at San Francisco State. Despite his credentials, Mark disliked him and felt he wasn’t good enough for his sister. They often butted heads over politics being Scott was a Republican, and Mark the epitome of anti-establishment and a former college dropout. But he put aside their differences one Saturday when Scott used a coat hanger to replace the radio antenna of his car torn off by vandals rather than to buy a new one. This clever act of mechanical ingenuity impressed Mark, and they kind of …show more content…

But preferred to take solitary walks in the Berkeley Hills, where he could attain an altered state of consciousness without a hangover. Since I had overindulged in food and drink, I asked if he’d care to join me for some fresh air. He led the way, and held the front door for me, and I walked through to the porch.
The sky seemed remarkably bright covered with a blanket of stars, and a full-moon above that resembled a Christmas ornament. The roundness of its face appeared so near that I felt tempted to reach my hand up to touch it. Instead, I leaned my head back. Malcolm followed suit. Rather than show off and point out The Big Dipper, or other constellations, or stars, he stood there with our bodies close and said nothing. At one point, I felt his left hand entwine mine. I didn’t resist, but held on tight and thought. Perhaps he wanted something, only what?
Roused by the beauty of the heavens, I let slip. “Oh, earth, you are too wonderful for anybody to realize

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