The beginning

This is my blog.

Welcome.

Oh, watch your step.  Yeah, I have to get that fixed.

In case you haven't heard, I'm moving from Los Angeles, where I've lived for the past five years, to New York City.  Why?  Because, that's why.

Oh, you want a real answer?  I've lived in California my entire life, where I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area and attended UCLA for college.  Now, don't get me wrong, California is great.  It's probably one of the nicest parts of the country, if not the world, which is why until there weren't any, you know, jobs there, people would move to California from all over the country, if not the world.  But, except for vacations and a travel study program in Paris, California is the only place I really know.  I feel safe, and I feel comfortable.  Hell, some of my best friends are from California!

But, from what I've gleaned over the last 23 years of my life (and I've done a lot of gleaning), and from what I've heard from TED talks (like this one)(or this one)(or this one), happiness isn't going to come from playing it safe or avoiding risks.  Happiness is going to come from new experiences, different experiences, and, most importantly, having interesting stories to tell my grandchildren someday.

I could be wrong, and God knows it happens a lot, but what's the worst that could happen?  I could end up alone and homeless in the middle of Central Park, where I get up to pee one morning and find myself in the middle of a Shakespeare in the Park performance of Hamlet, and though I try to fit in (but, of course, the bright orange Gap jacket, something I fished out of a dumpster on 74th and Broadway and that reminded me of middle school when Gap had all those catchy commercials -- I'm sure you remember them, too -- where the people were singing about being mad about Saffron, and being called mellow yellow and whatnot), I can't hold it any longer and end up peeing all over the stage, and since I'd been holding it in all night, you know, I'd had a large reservoir building up, and then it starts to spill over the side of the stage, and people are running away from it, worried it's going to get all over the towels they've laid on the ground, or soak into the picnic they brought for the day, and then I just feel awful.  Anyway, that's probably the worst that could happen.

So, moving to New York, I'm off to new experiences, new stories and new insights into who I am.  Hopefully I'll make a few friends along the way, and if I'm really lucky, I'll find some buried treasure or win the lottery or something, and then I can just buy happiness.  I'm living the American dream.