Lifestyle
L.A. Affairs: How I learned the difference between love and survival in a chemsex world
On Christmas morning, the man I thought I needed left me in another man’s cabin.
Hours earlier, Thom and I had been sprawled on the floor of a Santa Rosa utility closet where we’d been living, passing a meth pipe between us. I was 34 at the time. The mattress barely fit and it folded like a taco beside lube and dead torch lighters. Thom, in his 50s, had become my partner in chaos.
“Christmas. Anything you wanna do?” he asked with a tenderness I didn’t trust.
I scrolled Grindr. I’d traded seeing my family for crystal meth and the relief of nobody expecting anything of me.
After crashing my mom’s car and a stint in jail, I couldn’t face her disappointment. A decade in New York had promised stardom; by Christmas 2016, the promise had curdled. All I had left were men who only wanted my body. That was all I had left to give.
I showed Thom a torso-only photo on Grindr. “This guy’s having people over.”
He squinted. “That’s Ed.”
Thom’s Prius wound into Guerneville, a gay mountain retreat with meth undercurrents. That’s where Ed, a onetime costume designer, held his gatherings. Porn playing, GHB Gatorade, torch lighters that actually worked — everything we’d failed at. Billy, who was in his mid-20s, answered the door naked.
The cabin smelled of rot and wood smoke. We stripped down. It was part ritual, part performance. It’s how I’d stayed high and housed for the last few months. So I knew what came next. I knew my role. I pulled on a jockstrap two sizes too small.
Ed, who was in his 60s, grinned. “You’ve got that ‘West Side Story’ face, like you’re about to break into dance at the gym,” he said.
“Well, I played Tony,” I shot back. “No dancing for me.”
He laughed, and we were off, trading theater jokes, wardrobe malfunction stories and references Thom couldn’t follow. Thom’s jaw tightened as our connection excluded him.
He watched, his contempt spilling over, calculating whether I was worth competing for.
His face said exactly what I was: too much, replaceable. We were all using each other: Ed and Thom locked in an old rivalry, me the bait that kept older men supplied with boys. Billy was about to be replaced by me — I didn’t care. That was the cycle.
Thom yanked on his jeans, gave me one last sharp look and slammed the door. I waited for his car to circle back, even just to tell me off, but it never did. So I stayed with Ed.
Months blurred together without Thom. His absence weighed more than his presence ever had. With Ed, there was more than meth and sex. He spoke to the part of me that still loved literature, pop culture, acting — the part I assumed died. It wasn’t love the way people imagine it, but it was the closest thing I’d felt in years.
We settled into a routine of smoking, not sleeping, drawn curtains and dirty dishes until one morning I made peace with dying in a chemical haze.
“You really loved Thom,” Ed whispered over eggs neither of us wanted and then added, “I’m just glad I won.”
The words were petty, but I knew what he meant. I wasn’t just another Billy. In his own broken way, Ed cared, enough to know I didn’t belong there, not forever.
I stared at him, trying to read his next move. Was he kicking me out?
“If I let you stay here, I’d never forgive myself.” His voice was low, steadier than usual.
Ed was a dark character, fueled by his own hurt — he didn’t need to consider my future, he could’ve kept using me like everyone else had.
“Would you take me to L.A.?” I asked.
Ed nodded. “I’ve got an uncle in Venice.”
So we packed up his orange Honda Element. We tried leaving a few times, car loaded, engine running, but we were too high or too terrified of life on life’s terms. Then we finally made it. Even collapse felt easier in motion than rotting in that cabin.
The Central Valley stretched endlessly with dead grass and lawyer billboards. As palm trees started appearing, the air felt different — warmer, full of promises I hadn’t earned. But I told myself I would — if I could just get clean.
Ed’s uncle’s garage apartment reeked of must and jug wine. It was blocks from Venice Beach, yet still a prison. I didn’t know how to break free from the drug or the cycle that had trapped me. “Isn’t there a Ferris wheel on the beach?”
This was me trying to sound like I’d be willing to brave the world outside. But Ed knew better.
“That’s Santa Monica, the pier.”
The next day I reached out to Diana, an old college friend in North Hollywood. I’d told myself just get to L.A. — old connections would save me. But the look on her face when she saw me, my emaciated frame, the chemical burn under my clavicle, sour smell I couldn’t mask, told me otherwise. She hugged me stiffly, then pulled back.
“Jesus, Nick,” she said.
Ed said he was leaving and going back to Guerneville, but I begged for one more night. At a cheap motel, I accused him of hiding drugs.
“They’re my drugs,” Ed snapped. He grabbed his keys and was gone.
Abandonment had a sound — engine noise fading into Ventura Boulevard traffic. By morning, I still hadn’t slept. Outside, the sky burned neon pink and orange, the kind of L.A. sunrise that’s beautiful even if it’s born from smog. I just lay there, listening. Every car that slowed could be Diana or nobody.
At 10 a.m., she knocked, flinched when she saw me and helped me into her car. On the drive, she filled the silence with inconsequential chatter, as if nothing had changed. I pressed my forehead to the glass and counted palm trees to slow my heart.
Three months later, I landed at Van Ness Recovery House, an old Victorian in Beachwood Canyon under the Hollywood sign — 20 beds, three group sessions a day and nowhere left to lie.
The program director, Kathy, slid me a scrap of paper. It had a phone number with an area code I recognized.
“Ed?” I asked, though it wasn’t really a question. I knew what was next. I’d told the whole story in group. She knew everything.
“No contact. Ever,” Kathy said. I nodded.
“Tell him it’s over, and then hang up.”
Kathy handed me the phone. My hands shook as I dialed.
“Nick! How are you, sweetheart?” Ed answered, his voice warm and familiar.
Tears came before words. “Ed, I can’t … They say I can’t talk to you anymore.”
Silence stretched as Kathy watched and waited.
“But you helped me. You got me here. You …”
“Hang up, Nick,” she said firmly. “He’s a backdoor to your recovery.”
“I have to go,” I whispered.
“Wait, Nick, …” he started, but I hung up, Kathy’s eyes still on me. I handed the receiver back to her.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” she said. “This is your last chance. You can’t afford an escape route.”
Outside, the Hollywood sign caught the afternoon light. For the first time in months, no meth psychosis obstructed my view. It looked different, not a destination, but a witness.
Ten years later, I’m married to someone I met at an AA meeting; a quiet, steady love, the opposite of the chaos I once mistook for devotion. We bought a house in the Valley, have two rescue bulldogs. Today, when I drive past Van Ness — that old Victorian recovery house where I learned to tell the truth — I remember the Nick who thought survival was the same as love.
It wasn’t. But it got me to Los Angeles, where I finally learned the difference.
The author is a Los Angeles–based writer with recent bylines in the Cut, HuffPost and the Washington Post.
L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.
Lifestyle
Can you say no to a friend’s wedding? : It’s Been a Minute
Can you say no to a friend’s wedding?
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Getty Images/Getty images
Are we spending too much on other people’s weddings?
Going to a friend’s weddings can be so fun and meaningful… but it can also really hurt your wallet. A survey by LendingTree found that 31% of people who had been to a wedding in the past five years had accrued debt to attend. So what’s driving up the cost of weddings for guests? And what makes it so hard to say no to these expenses?
Brittany breaks it down with Allyson Rees, senior analyst at trend forecasting firm WGSN, and Annie Joy Williams, assistant editor at The Atlantic.
This episode was produced by Liam McBain, with additional support from Corey Antonio Rose. It was edited by Neena Pathak. Our Supervising Producer is Cher Vincent. Our Executive Producer is Barton Girdwood. Our VP of Programming is Yolanda Sangweni.
Lifestyle
Is it safe to eat from your garden after the Boyle Heights warehouse fire?
After the eight-day-long fire in a 500,000-square-foot Boyle Heights warehouse, eastern Los Angeles residents are contending with putrid smells, soot and potentially hazardous airborne chemicals after heavy plumes of smoke spread throughout the city. But those who grow food in nearby neighborhoods may also be wondering: How will the fires affect the plants and produce in my garden?
The Boyle Heights warehouse, owned by Lineage — a global temperature-controlled storage facility operator — housed 85 million pounds of frozen food and other products. In the days since the fire, local emergency visits for smoke inhalation and throat pain spiked while agencies still scramble to measure the amount of PM 2.5 — harmful fine particles — and heavy metals, like lead and arsenic, in the air.
According to researchers, any toxic airborne chemicals would likely stem from the charred foam insulation, metal exterior, burned solar panels and any lithium batteries that might have been present inside the warehouse.
After a fire, heavy metal particles can spread through ash and smoke over gardens and inhibit growth, said Olukayode Jegede, an agricultural toxicologist and assistant professor at UC Davis. Since the warehouse fire is so recent and cleanup has just begun, Jegede said the precise impact on gardens can’t be measured until comprehensive soil tests are conducted in the area.
While the L.A. city government hasn’t announced plans for soil testing, the Contaminant Level Evaluation and Analysis for Neighborhoods project at USC is offering free contaminant testing for Boyle Heights and East L.A. residents. Residents can collect soil samples and deliver them to Boyle Heights City Hall and other locations for an evaluation of lead, arsenic, chromium and mercury levels.
The good news is produce, plants and roots can still be preserved. According to Jegede, many of the soil tests conducted last year in the Altadena area after the Eaton fire showed that gardens and poultry were not as contaminated as one might expect.
“Quite a number of the soils we tested [in Altadena] were not really contaminated,” Jegede said. “We weren’t seeing many soils with concerning elevated levels of metal, so gardeners should not be too alarmed when these things happen.”
Nevertheless, there are several measures that gardeners can take to keep themselves, their children, plants and produce safe from potentially harmful contaminants stemming from the fire. Researchers, gardening experts and horticulturists offered some guidance on the handling, recultivation and cleanup that can keep you and your garden in good health.
How do I remove ash and contaminants from my garden?
Altadena horticulturist Leigh Adams said Boyle Heights plants and produce already live in a difficult environment, surrounded by industrial warehouses that spread contaminants daily.
“That area has been used industrially for 100 years, and the soil is impacted by many, many, many things,” Adams said. “Low-income neighborhoods and gardens usually don’t have a lot of resistance against dominant manufacturing.”
This means that the contamination of gardens in eastern L.A. won’t be as catastrophic as compared with those in Altadena, a more suburban environment, Adams said. But fallen ash still poses major health risks if ingested or inhaled.
An advisory from University of California Agricultural and Natural Resources last year recommended suiting up in an N95/KN95 mask, long sleeves, pants, close-toed shoes and gloves before attempting to deal with ash in the garden to limit exposure to potentially toxic contaminants. The advisory added that individuals should make sure all of this gear is cleaned thoroughly before bringing it back inside.
Once in the proper gear, Adams recommends removing the top two inches of topsoil from gardens, where the highest concentration of contaminants will settle after a fire. Using a plastic bag to collect the soil and disposing of it in the garbage — not green yard waste bins — will help to reduce the spread of airborne chemicals.
Gardeners with raised beds are advised to remove approximately six inches of soil, because excess ash can raise the pH level and prevent nutrients from soaking into the soil bed.
After this, watering the garden gently but plentifully will help to promote soil health and get rid of most of the ash present on plant leaves and stems. Adams said replacing the top two inches of soil with store-bought mulch or straw will help to contain any remaining ash and prevent it from spreading any further.
Experts say to avoid using leaf blowers if ash is present in the garden because they can send particles airborne. Doing so will increase the likelihood of heavy metal particles, which can carry lung irritants and carcinogens, being spread and inhaled.
A Boyle Heights resident keep a watchful eye on the fire at the 5,000-square-foot commercial building, which stores 85 million pounds of frozen food.
(Genaro Molina / Los Angeles Times)
Is it safe for me to eat produce from my garden?
Several studies, including one from the UC Cooperative Extension of Sonoma County, have shown that consuming produce in a fire-affected area poses minimal health risks.
Jegede said most root vegetables like potatoes and carrots, along with any fruit that has an outer layer, can be washed to remove potential contaminants, even if they were covered in ash. Peeling the outer layer of your produce can also help to reduce potential risks, he said.
Lettuce and other leafy foods with multiple layers pose a higher risk of contamination, but with a vigorous wash and peeling the outer layers, even the greens can be saved. The County of Los Angeles Department of Public Health recommends soaking leafy produce and fuzzy fruits like peaches in a 10% white vinegar and 90% water mixture.
Jegede said if the leaves or fruit are too delicate to wash or ash is still visible, it would be best to dispose of the produce.
How can I tell if my soil is contaminated?
After ridding your garden of visible ash, you might wonder how to tell if your plants will still thrive in the soil.
At-home soil tests that measure for alkaline, fertility and pH levels are widely available and can be purchased for $15 to $100 (for more detailed results) online. But Jegede said these tests can’t tell the full story of soil health.
Comprehensive soil testing is “something you can’t do properly at home,” Jegede said. “In labs, we are testing for metals like lithium and zinc, stuff that an at-home test will not show … If it comes to the point that you’re worried about your soil, I would just send it out to a lab.”
Wallace Laboratories in El Segundo, Babcock Laboratories in Riverside, Waypoint Analytical in Anaheim and other labs offer more detailed soil tests that measure heavy metal particles in addition to other fertility factors. Prices at Wallace Laboratories can range from $115 to $295 for a complete compost test.
The soil below two inches should be unharmed, Adams said, so long as new compost is set and plants are watered plentifully, which will promote natural biological cycles.
“What you’re doing is capping the soil, so that moisture stays in there, and instead of being dirt, it’s a living system called soil,” Adams said. “The more carbon we can get into our soil, the better.”
What can I do to help my soil recover?
For the last 12 years, Adams has been working with Metabolic Studio, a Los Angeles-based art and research hub focused on environmentalism, on methods for bioremediation, the practice of using additional fungi, plants and compost to decontaminate ash and break down contaminants.
Adams said straw, mushrooms, corn, rye and sunflowers are great bioremediators that can help to repair damage to soils. She said certain samples she’s worked on with Metabolic Studio have gone from testing at high heavy metal levels to nearly contaminant-free.
But for a more immediate fix, wash your produce, water your plants and have a little patience during ash cleanups. Your garden should look better in no time, Adams and Jegede said.
Lifestyle
Why Gen Z is movie-maxxing : Pop Culture Happy Hour
Inde Navarrette and Michael Johnston in Obsession.
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Focus Features
Two big horror films, Obsession and Backrooms, just smashed all box office expectations. So much of their success has been driven by Gen Z, which is now the biggest moviegoing demographic. But what makes a movie a Gen Z movie? Today we’re bringing you an episode of NPR’s It’s Been a Minute. Host Brittany Luse talks about this trend with Sam Adams and Reanna Cruz.
If you want to hear more about these movies, check out these episodes:
In ‘Obsession,’ love hurts. It really, really, really hurts.
‘Backrooms’ brings YouTube horror to the big screen
Zendaya brings ‘The Drama,’ we bring the spoilers
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