So I've been living in San Francisco for about 28 days now and it's definitely not New York. I still miss NYC a lot, but San Francisco has been treating me well and I forgot how much I missed living on the west coast. NY is great, but it doesn't have the west coast culture--people are laid-back, generally more pleasant, and don't look like they are always dressed to impressed hence the laid-back-ness. The weather is nice and I suppose for now, I am happy I'm not in the sauna that is NYC.
Anyways, my job has been a rollercoaster (and you know how much I hate rollercoasters). I've gone through many emotional rides with it. The first week was great; everyone was incredibly welcoming and nice and were taking the time to train me and get me up to speed. Then the second week rolled around, and I must've become invisible because no one acknowledged me. I was barely getting work and was told to go around to producers to ask for work to do. I know I'm the biatch of the newsroom, but why do I need to beg for work to do? Third week rolled around and I called my sister on my lunch break and had an emotional breakdown about how miserable and trapped I was. But being the good big sister she is, she told me to buck up and go through with it and she told me something that really has stuck with me.
She told me that I have passion. She told me that my passion has led me to one coast and back and that I have devoted much of my life to journalism and the desire to tell the story of the people--of the downtrodden, of the inspirational, and the quirky. What she said got my heart racing. Yes, I do have passion and I know I should be grateful for the job I have and that of course it's going to take a while for me to get where I want to be...but this is just a stepping stone to get there. I won't be stuck in this job for forever. I think what really got to me is that I left New York for a job I'm not really crazy about. I don't know if it was the wrong choice--well, I know it wasn't the wrong choice, because as I've said, I believe everything happens for a reason. The nugget of goodness that has come out of this is that I've realized this line of work--production and writing for a local news program--is not for me. I want to be out in the field, interacting with people, hearing their stories, and bringing it live through the visual medium. It's not my passion, but hopefully this job will put me a step closer to getting to it.
Besides work really dominating my life, I've explored much of SF this almost-month. Every weekend I make it a point to not use public transportation and take two to six hour walks around the city, people watching, exploring, and getting lost. The only missing piece is having friends to do it with. My worst fears are confirmed: I have no friends here haha I consider myself a pretty sociable guy. I don't smell bad, I'm not particularly shy, and have you seen my face? I'm gorgeous (kidding!...sorta). But as I've told people, I don't know if I really miss not having friends here. It's weird. My days have broken up into me waking up around 7AM, working from 9AM to 6PM, going to the gym from 8ish to 9 or 9:30, a quick dinner and shower, some catching up on news and emails and then bed! By the weekend, I'm tired as balls I just sleep and roam around the city like a hoodlum. Plus, everyone at my work is either way older than me or we just don't have chemistry. So what's a hot guy like me to do? I don't know...but it's kind of refreshing trekking this journey solo.
Anyways, it's getting late, and I just wanted to give a quick update. I have some funny stories I'll post up soon. But I'm tired as your testicles and wanna pass the eff out.
I miss you all very much (I'm assuming everyone reading this is a friend/family member of mine...if you're not...that's weird) and you will hear from me soon!
Holla!
P-boy
Foster the People - I Would Do Anything For You
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