Friday, November 6, 2009 6:35AM

We just took off. I’m headed to Austin to look for an apartment this weekend. I started crying a little bit on the ascent. Not enough tears to hit my cheeks but enough to feel that prick behind my eyeballs and worry that I didn’t bring Kleenex. We are out over the ocean. Seems weird to since Texas is the other way. I assume somebody knows what’s going on. I’ve been caught up lately in the “Last Time.” Is this the “last time” I park at LAX? Probably, but I gotta catch that shuttle so I can’t think about it. Is this the “last time” I wait in line at security? Probably, but I gotta get my small liquids out and put them in that bin and that man behind me is being pushy. Is this the “last time” I take off from LAX as a resident? Probably. And that got to me. And I must admit that it wasn’t Melancholy. It was Relief. I feel that having such overpowering relief is a bit of a betrayal to my wonderful friends. I’m not relieved to be leaving them; they are collateral damage.

My career in Los Angeles (and so, by extension, my whole life here) has become a demanding mistress who I no longer want to indulge. At first, I was taken in by her beauty, charm, glamour and her requests. I wanted to satisfy her so I would meet her any time of the day at any hotel and bring her anything she wanted. Now, I don’t want to even take her calls. I let her leave a message. I’ve realized that I’m never going to marry her. She’s not the marrying kind. I am unseduced by her glamour. It feels sudden, but it’s not really. As I look back, we have been breaking up for a long time. And although it’s “amicable,” as they say in the tabloids, I think we ALL know that one person didn’t REALLY want it. Maybe we had “irreconcilable differences.” She wanted to take everything from me for an occasional thrilling ride in the hay and I realized the sex wasn’t that great and I’d rather be with someone who loves me unconditionally- even if that means less danger. I’m letting her down as easily as I can but the fact of the matter is, this relationship is over and I cannot wait to be out of her grasp.

They’re bringing drinks. Somebody ordered a beer. At 6:55AM? Really? I understand a bloody mary or mimosa but a beer? It’s a Bud Light. I should be happy.

My commercial shoots went super well. I’m happy to have potential money coming in and the Career Builder spot is supposed to be a Super Bowl ad (which isn’t always good for the actor because some of those ads only air that one time.) And it looks like I qualified for my health insurance for next year. So there is not that immediate pressure to get a job. Although I better get one because the cats sure won’t.

Broad next to me has the sniffles. Keep ’em to yourself, lady.

I love flying. Airports have always struck me as such high-stake emotional places. I miss the days when your loved ones could meet you at the gate. Once when I was at DFW waiting to take a flight, I saw, at another gate, a plane full of kids disembark who had been at camp for the entire summer. They each came TEARING out of the Jetway and into their parents’, grandparents’ and siblings’ arms amid screams, hugs, kisses and cries. They looked like they were running FROM something but really they were leaping INTO something. I feel that way. I had a great time and I wouldn’t trade my adventures at camp for anything (and I have the arts & crafts to prove it) but I’m just ready to be HOME.

And now we descend. Here come the real tears. Maybe I can borrow a Kleenex from Sniffles.