jb

I’ve made up my mind. I’ve moved back down to Southern California. I tried to love the northern part of the state, but at the end of the day, I’m a SoCal kid through and through. The rhythm, the energy, even the weather. It feels like home in a way the north never did.

I struggled up there in just about every way you could think of, but I don’t regret the decisions I made. Sure, I could have planned things better or thought a few choices through more carefully, but regret isn’t the word I’d use. Every step was part of the process, and I own all of it.

Driving back down, I took the 1. The scenic drive. What should have only taken me seven hours to get to my destination ended up taking fourteen. Between winding roads, the ocean views, and the stops along the way, I just let it stretch out. By the time I finally got in, I was wiped out. I picked up a six-pack on the way, knocked myself out once I arrived, and didn’t even bother unpacking until the next evening.

Since I drive a small sporty car, I couldn’t bring much back with me. A lot of the bigger stuff, mainly furniture, had to stay behind. What I did bring were the essentials: my clothes, my books, my music, and of course, my camera. Everything else I can replace over time.

I’ll admit, I’m a little bummed that I couldn’t make it work up there. But now that I’m back, I want to see how things unfold differently this time. Maybe I’ll reconnect with some old friends, maybe I’ll find new circles. Either way, it feels like the right move. And I’m ready to see where it takes me.