And Wear Sunscreen

"What you decide on will be done, and light will shine on your ways." Job 22:28

"When its 100 degrees in New York, it's 72 in Los Angeles. When its 30 degrees in New York, in Los Angeles it's still 72. However, there are 6 million interesting people in New York, and 72 in Los Angeles." ~Neil Simon

I'd say it was a chance meeting. But I don't believe in chance.

Still, after White Collar's writer told me I should throw my proverbial writers cap in the Warner Brothers ring, I've been thinking of roaming again. This time to the city of Angels. And before I become to hard for my own good.

I must be losing my on the verge mind. I thought New York City suited my personality. Now I realize Steinbeck was right, littleness gets swallowed up here, and my neurotic, anxious, impatient, and angry self swells in this city's magnitude.

The vicious grit and tolerated sleaze of my grand town just justifies my tough exterior and clenched shoulders as a rite of passage to being a true New Yorker. Scoff Scoff.

Plus, it's still unkindly cold here. Damp and dark. And something about skirts, sandals, and sunshine has me hearing "Go West" in my balmy, career flourishing daydreams.

I wonder.

Leaving Broadway Stages tonight, I turned up my wool collar and kicked at a tin can in the middle of the industrious and stark streets of Greenpoint, Brooklyn. Another 13 hour day spent on a sound stage. A stiff breeze carried the scent of salty air to my runny nose and wide open Southern California dreams drifted in.

As I made the turn around the last vacant warehouse, a vision came so clear and captivating, it stopped me in my filthy tracks and shone a light on my dark and misty path.

Manhattan's unmatchable skyline shining just like the sun.

Looks like I'm staying. For now.

Would you call constant reconsideration a form of manic behavior?