I haven’t been in about a year-and-a-half, and the last time I went I had a surprisingly good time. We didn’t go out, and spent the majority of the trip in Newport Beach, on the beach, or biking around docks, me being introduced to old Friend’s family and friends. We did a lot of things I like, and I came back with a new sense of respect for the place.
I was spared the uncivil, superficial aspects of the city that I’ve come to associate it with after visiting several times over the years.
But at a time when I’m considering what I want to do with myself – long-term – I’m nervous that this trip could go either way.
What if I love it? What if I meet movie folk and am inspired and decided to become a M.A.W. (though, in my case it would be a W.W. – a “Writer or Whatever,” instead of “Model, Actress or Whatever”)?
Could I actually leave New York?
It seems implausible; but, considering I left League City, TX four days after high-school graduation, I know I can be impulsive if it feels right.
What a change that would be. Maybe it would work out great and I’d look back a year from now and cringe that I hadn’t had the gall to pursue something earlier for fear of change.
But maybe I’ll get there and remember why I couldn’t move out there post-college in the first place. Who knows?
It does give me the opportunity to draw back on one of my favorite clichéd flicks from the 90s. “Swingers”! It was silly to say for so many years, but remember “You’re so money, baby”? Oh, to have coined that phrase.