Goin' to California

I want to start off by apologizing for the paucity of posts on the blog. This is something I hope to remedy in the coming weeks, as I'm sure to have new material: I'm finally moving.

After four years and much discussion, I'm abandoning America's Heartland for the sunny, soul-less West. Los Angeles, to be exact. I'm living in an area called "Silver Lake", which is home to a burgeoning indie rock scene, a stronghold for the hipoisie. I expect to be greeted with flowers and candy.

I'm actually trying to hold off on expectations. I've been to this place twice in the last six months, but I don't pretend to have any real knowledge of it, nor have I formed any opinions that go beyond, "Neat!". The obvious things: traffic, smog, widespread plastic surgery, have seemed mere curiosities.



As I've explained to Dasein, my confessor, my main preoccupation as of right now is to hold off on drinking the Kool-Aid and becoming all California'd out. I have some things working in my favor. For example, I can't stand the beach, prolonged exposure to sunlight (30+ minutes) causes me to break out in boils, and the parts of my physique most prime for surgical augmentation are those that I try my best to keep as far away as possible from sharp things.

The photos peppered throughout this post are of my new place. I'm considering getting bunk beds, not for visitors, but just because I've always wanted them. It's a studio, so if anyone wants to visit, please call first, and I'll put some clothes on. If all goes well, D-Day will be in about a fortnight. I plan to document my cross country journey as well, provided that America's finer motor-inns now have wireless access.



By the way, thanks to everyone for their enthusiasm and well-wishing. I'm going to California, but not without an achin' in my heart.