Welcome to the fault line of my life; where everything just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Most of you probably already know this, but barring some sort of natural disaster (a global ice age, alien abduction, California falling into the Pacific, etc), it looks like I am moving back to Los Angeles the end of May. I’ve been talking about doing that for as long as I can remember. I grew up out there and since leaving, have always missed it on some level. I admit to having sort of a love/hate relationship with the City of Angels. There are things about it that definitely make me crazy, but at the same time I think it is the place my soul is tied to. I can’t really explain it, but it’s where I feel I’m supposed to be… at least at this crossroads in my life. Maybe that’s a temporary thing. Maybe I’m just suffering from Wanderlust. Maybe I just want to get out of Atlanta so badly that I’m trying to justify my escape in any way that I possibly can. I’m ok with that. Call me Horatio Alger. Call me Jack Kerouac. Call me Roland the Gunslinger. I just know that right now my road lies to the West. (Along the path of The Beam for you “Dark Tower” fans.) I found a great apartment on a cool estate that will let me bring my horse along. It was serendipitous. I call that Fate and I’ve learned not to fuck with Fate. Fuck that I don’t have a solid job lined up. I will find something temporary to pay the bills while I search for the job that I really want. At least I will be a local then and can be there to interview in person for said jobs when they come up. One of my brother’s friends said recently, “You can be unemployed anywhere. You might as well be unemployed in a place that makes you happy.” I like that idea. I think I’ll keep it and run West with it…
"Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles." -- Frank Lloyd Wright
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