So obviously I didn't keep this up very well last time. Apparently, blogging did not "stick" that well last time around. Few reasons for that that needn't be explored much beyond saying my life went sideways for a while and I thought I was too busy for myself. Which is utter crap, when you get down to brass tacks. Never claimed it was a good excuse, but that's what happened.

I have been doing quite a bit of throwing things against the wall recently, and life has been sticking much more. I'm happy with how my life looks, for the first sustained period of time in years. Anyone who knows me knows I'm traditionally a very happy person, and tend to be happy as a default setting, even when shit gets shitty (eloquent, I know). There have been some stretches over the past year and change that have been less than optimal, however, and I didn't really love where I was at, what I was doing, or where I was going.

Upon cognition of that craziness, I switched my life up. I quit my job. I packed up my Saab and left my life I'd made for myself over the past 5 years in Southern California behind. I liken it to shearing dreads; metaphorically, I was cutting ties with all of the energy, history, and insanity I'd accumulated over the course of those tough times. To greener pastures, but shaped by the experiences of my past.

That's the beauty about the past: it may have been amazing, it may have been trying, but it will always be. I have a lot of fond memories of San Diego with the people I loved, the places I frequented, the sun that never stopped shining. I have some painful memories there, too. Parking lots that nearly brought me to tears walking through, drives I could hardly make without tasting the bittersweet nature of my past. . . it was all there. Regardless of what it was, it was. And that's important. I look back on it and am stronger, happier, and a more complete human being because of it. I wouldn't trade my past for anything. And it took me leaving it behind to really appreciate that.

To tie this back into my main point: I moved back to Portland. Home. It always has been home, even when it wasn't. I'm brewing twice a month now, lovingly embracing my creative side for what is authentically the first extended period of my life. I've been dating, which has been a revelation and fantastic in its own right. I've coached a 4th grade girl's basketball team that has been so ridiculously entertaining I can hardly contain myself. I'm working some 40+ hours a week at a new law firm, and have really been enjoying it. And I see my family often, siblings included.

I feel . . . happy. Completely content. What the future holds, I don't know, but I certainly know a few more aspects of my life are going to stick now that didn't stand a chance in San Diego.

Forgive the re-introduction. The next post will be more observational-introspective and less self-indulgent. For real.