El Hombre De Los Moleculos!
Now that all of that is out of the way, and I’ve my portfolio, demo reel, writing samples, and website all operational. I figured that I should take the time to give this blog a proper funeral.
We’ve had a great almost two years. We’ve tackled mean girls, re-elections, intelligent design, and Arrested Developments. I referenced Buffy way too much. We fell for a Veronica, got Lost, and traveled into the eternal sunshine of a spotless mind. Yes, yes, it’s been a good thing baby. But like all orgasms, this too can’t last forever. (Okay, if you hated my blog, this too shall pass.)
So, here’s one last highly personal blog – you know for conclusions sake…
(p.s. If you read my myspace, they’re not much of a point of reading on)
York, Pennsylvania is hell on earth. I could easily write a dissertation on the social, political, and economic reasons why this specific point on the map literally has driven me mad throughout my life. From the moment my family arrived here, when I was only three, I wanted out.
So, it’s not surprising that I was drawn to men I met from Huntington Beach or Fort Lauderdale or even the not so exotic Allentown as I stumbled through high school and that post high school limbo. I always wondered why people would ever choose to move here, the one place I’ve tried so hard to escape. I found the same answer over and over again. Fate fucked them. Most I knew came here with family or girlfriends so that they could be near other family, etc. Oh and there was a former heroin addict who came here of all places for rehab. How ironic? That’s another story for another blog.
I remember the absolute panic I was struck with when I had to leave New York five years ago. I remember crying constantly at the thought of coming back here. It was one of the five worst days of my life - the day I left. And here I’ve been ever since. I admit that it was worth it. I met and married my husband. I’ve made new friends and grown closer to old acquaintances. Where would I be without your love, Bob, Darren, and James… I don’t want to think about it.
But through this time I’ve been bitter as my friends travel the world, lived off their reletives while "finding themselves," or gone to ivy league grad schools as I was stuck here in hell. Then came the great exodus. Darci may only be 40 miles away in Baltimore, but her social calendar is always full and I only get to see her on holidays. Bob is in San Antonio, Kim and Justin in Atlanta, and Adam in Manhattan. Then there are my dear friends from college spread from Thailand to London to the mid-west to, of course, Los Angeles.
So while I have no idea what the hell I’m actually doing, I’ve decided to pack up and leave this Bush loving, segregated, redneck, culturally bankrupt, angry and hostile fundamentalist shit bag of a town behind. Hopefully forever – except mandatory Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners with the in-laws.
It’s officially official. I quit my job. My last day of work is May 31st. I’ll immediately be packing up and moving to Columbus, Ohio to crash in my dad’s basement until I find a job. I’m also putting the final touches on my application to Ohio State to get my MBA. While I don’t know how I’ll eat or feed the cats, or where I’ll store my obscene amount of shoes, or how to keep Ben’s Peanut M & M habit going, or even on what I’ll sleep, I'm comforted by the fact that at least I won’t be in York. I do have a job interview on May 1st... To work for of all institutions, the government. That's right, let the propaganda flow.
My friends are all I’ll truly miss about this place, but I’ve been saying goodbye for so long, it almost doesn’t hurt anymore. Anyway, isn’t that what the internet if for? (No wait, it's steal music and look at porn.) It doesn’t matter, as they’ll be gone too one day soon as anyone with compassion, conscience, and a 3-digit IQ blooms elsewhere or withers here.
Oh one more thing…
HELLS YEAH!!! I’m finally getting the fuck outta here!
So there you go my readers, who ever is left.
Put a stake in her… she’s dead.
(p.s.) you can still fulfill any stalker like need for information about my on myspace. That’s right, be my friend.