*Disclaimer: I should note that I actually am happy about all of this. It will be easy to forget this.
Hollywood seems like a million person bracket, with only one or handful of winners and all moderate successes losses. I got a long term gig, which might translate into a tournament win.
So I might actually be heading back up to San Francisco. FOR WORK of all things. It’s not totally clear what the job is going to be like, but I’ll be headed up the ninth to find out with training in Oak-town. It’s a bit odd really. To be quite honest, I don’t know what I’d be going back to. Or leaving. I think the past month has been my first to be really socially adventurous. With regular attendance at the Hi Hat, it really feels like I’m in the ground floor of an thing.
So there have been a lot of jump starts so far. They have been close calls, and mistakes and regrets. I’d like to think that the holes you climb out of make you a stronger person, but I do doubt it. Maybe you just get better at finding holes.
Sometimes there’s nothing scarier than getting on base. And getting a solid job back in the Bay Area is a definite base hit. But to continue the obvious baseball metaphor, I’d worry if I reach any other bases. How much value is there in continuing to fan in Los Angeles? Is it giving up on the friendships that I’ve made? Am I missing out on someone I seem to jive with?
I’ve tried to be a person proud of their mistakes and failures. I know I’d be happy generally in San Francisco, but the city so full of memory also brings an apprehension and pain. It’s hard not to feel like I’d be vomited back into the Sunset. There really isn’t a way I come back to the city anything but a sick dog.
LA has taught me a lot. I’ve probably changed more in the past year than any in my life. Smaller and humbled, it doesn’t feel finished for me down here. Growing up Catholic, you can get the understanding that the pain and doubts are central to growth, but the virtues of running into doors might just be forehead bruises.
Don’t know really.
This all sounds depressing when it shouldn’t.
It’s never as bad as I think.
Cuse is in the Sweet Sixteen after all.
The Life of Joe 