Song of the South

What have I done?

I do apologize if that feels a bit too bleak to be an opening statement for a blog, but perhaps this story (if that's what it becomes) will be come one of tragic warning. You see it seems I have made a mistake. In my young, spongy mind the only thing I needed in my life was a drastic and unexpected change. So in Piscean fashion I skipped logic, packed up, and relocated myself with nothing more than an overabundant collection of DVD's, a few ironically funny t-shirts, and merely $300 to Chesapeake (word that seems harder to spell then it is), Virgina.

You see I was nothing more than a mere blip on the global radar residing in Beacon, New York. It was an up and coming arts community a mere stones throw from the glitz and glam the big apple; New York City. I was working in a coffee shop, fashioning myself a writer, and serving the local, thriving hipster community. I had garnered myself quite a reputation amongst these mac users and between you and me, made the best latte in town. Of course the bottom fell out, I grew sick of the over abundance of opinions floating around, and my coffee shop deciding to close its doors. I was unemployed, out of college, bored, and uninspired. This is the worst position a writer could find himself in.

My friend Mike, who was trapped within the confines of military service, had just settled in Virgina and offered me a spot in his new home. Well who was I to argue? I weighed the options in my head. The only things to stay behind for (aside from friends, family, familiarity, and a great bar) was my own comfort. I strongly believe that when you find yourself comfortable then its time to make a change. It was the fear that I had settled into the position of nothing more than a townie that convinced me to pack up and beat street.

Of course I could not do something so stupid alone. I called a meeting with my very own conscious and a few too many Roxy Rolles (thank you, you magnificent bastards at Magic Hat) I decided that I could not ruin just my life. How would I sleep at night knowing that somewhere in the back of my gray matter that I could have conceivably ruined two lives? I approached my longest friend and faithful confident Brian and asked him to join me on the excursion. He nearly pissed himself with glee.

So in traditional American half-ass manner we packed our bags, we bid our farewells, we nostalgically drove through the town that had shaped us, and we moved away... To Virgina. To Chesapeake, Virgina.

From the Union to the Confederacy.

I am now jobless, without a college degree, slowly loosing my only coinage, without a car, without a sense of familiarity, without a lick of information, and without any clue what exactly I am doing.

But I have a place to live so I suppose that is a start.

Within the first day Brian had his car towed and I realized I had no socks. I guess it can be said without hesitation that we are off to a rocky start. We rescued his car from the pound for $125 and rescued my feet from impeding stank with a trip to Walmart, draining from me another $4. We ate only one meal today consisting of the most expensive pizza I have ever had at $20. I'm not any closer to finding a job.

I can look forward to warming weather, the beach, and hurricanes. Apparently though I am just in time to catch the tail end of the 16th annual poetry festival at the Russel Memorial Library.

I'll let you known.

Thanks for reading.
Brian