When I decided to move to Los Angeles, it was, at that point, the most liberating moment I had experienced. Although it seemed that it was just another sporadic, spur-of-the-moment decision that fit my usual style of living, this was actually a case of me saying “Yes” to a goal I had set for myself when I was in high school. What felt like spontaneity wasn’t spontaneity at all.
I have a soul similar to a gypsy, and felt alive and limitless. I had, only a year earlier, moved backed to my hometown Chicago after living in New Orléans for 6 years. I was working in the film industry, and once the projects I was working on wrapped, I was searching for another gig. I worked a few odd jobs, eventually landing a management position with a luxury handbag company, but was not happy. Once I said, “It’s time to move to Los Angeles”, it took me only two weeks to pack my belongings, have a going-away shindig, and there I was, on the road to La-La Land. Cheers to the pursuit of happiness!
The drive was an ambitious and nerve-wrecking task, especially because I was alone. One of the greatest aspects of the journey was that I had plenty of quiet time to think about what I wanted out of this upcoming experience.
Driving through Colorado was the roughest part of the journey. It wasn’t easy driving a packed, 2 door, rear-wheel drive, convertible sports car through the snowy Rocky Mountains. The exciting part, and always my favorite part of any journey, was the scenery, particularly in Utah. I pulled over to snap a few photos. It was beautiful at every turn, serene, and memorable.
After the 48 hour trip, I made it to the City of Angels, and knew that some of the best years of my life were about to begin.