Omigod! I think I'm Bi-Coastal

So why did I leave the East Coast? I always say that it was because I hate the cold. And I do. Passionately. I hate wearing 10 layers of clothing to get the mail. And every morning that I froze my ass off to scrape and brush and warm the car before it would splutter to life and shake off the icicles that encapsulated it in the morning dew, I promised myself it was the last year I would put myself through that. But though I’ve always hated cold weather, I never seriously entertained the idea that I would follow through on my threats to leave New Jersey (the whirling vortex of doom).

This time it was different.

The signs were there that it was time to trade in most of my existing life for what's behind Door Number Two. My sister, the lifelong Manhattan-a-phile, had made the move a year before and was no worse for the wear. Sure she professed her difficulties in finding friends and constructing a social circle that rivaled the one that thrived for her in New York. But she did that in between attending parties at the Playboy Mansion and learning to snowboard. It was different for me. I never had problems making friends, but I also never held being social in too high a regard. One or two close friends were enough companionship, and with my boyfriend making the move with me, I expected that he would keep me in sufficient company. Or charm his way into friendships that he would then share with me. Besides, my friends were all starting to settle into their lives, starting new families, making great strides in their careers. For me, all of these things seemed stagnant and in need of an infusion of NEW.

I thought I was ready to leave my old life behind and start all over in California. In LaLaLand, I could reinvent myself. Maybe do all the things that my Jersey rut seemed to keep me from remembering I wanted to do. I packed my things, said my goodbyes to friends and family, prepared myself to find new apartments, discover new roads and new scenes, meet new people. Find a new job to sustain me, and complain about. And it all seemed to be coming together at an alarming pace — more signs that I was making the right decision and that luck would be on my side, for the first time ever.

But little by little those signs started blinking yellow and waiting for someone to direct the traffic in my mind. I had taken a New Job in a New Field. Yet almost immediately I found myself in the old familiar scene of working in a place where everyone was miserable, and for good reason.

And then the lights suddenly turned red, and it was too late for me to put on the brakes. My boyfriend, it seemed, was also a bit overwhelmed by all the change. He couldn’t stop me from leaving, and wouldn’t break up with me, so instead, he broke up with his sanity and sobriety. Maybe he’ll get himself back together and will join me in the Golden State of Confusion. Maybe it will happen soon. Maybe it won't happen at all.

So for now, I’ve teamed up with the virtue of solitude and a lot of second guessing. But fuck it, at least the weather is damn near perfect, and there have only been 6 earthquakes since I got here. Things are looking up already, and I’m sure I’ll find lots of things about LA that make me glad to be here.