<i>I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's
His hair was perfect</i>
I am moving to London next week. Good God, I hope I know what I am doing.
It’s not that I haven’t picked up and left previously. I’ve always lived a nomadic sort of life as I become so easily jaded without at least the promise of change (thank God I had the sense not to marry). I have been trying to escape for the last 12 years, but like a fine case of shower curtain fungus, Chicago keeps creeping back….or I back to her. No matter who does the creeping. I am here, aren’t I?
It’s not that I lack a genuine fondness for the city. Chicago will always hold that place in my heart reserved for “home”. It’s just that I would much rather visit than live here.
I am an expert at starting over in new and exotic locales, so why do I question my sanity now? When I left for Costa Rica, I had twice the liquid assets as I do now and everything was 1/3 the price. Now, since I decided to throw so much money into land over there that won’t be profitable to sell for another 3-4 years, I have half the cash and everything is twice the price. It is a bit disconcerting to visit the post office and watch them wave their magical currency conversion wand, turning your dollars into 50 cent pieces. Disconcerting and sad. Being of Czech heritage, this is especially painful, as there is a “Parsimony” protein which actually forms a rung on the ladder of Bohemian DNA.
So then, why? Because you only live once. Well…who knows how many times you live, but just in case it actually is only once, I want to make sure I get the most out of it while I still am soft and supple :)