In June 2011, when I finally decided to leave CA and strike out on my own, I wrote myself a little reminder. I wanted to make sure I could remember why I was leaving, what I wanted to accomplish and be able to hold myself accountable. I posted it on Facebook for my friends to see, but I think it should be on my blog somewhere, and here it is:
Damn me and my stupid desire for a clean slate. Know what that means? I’m going to make myself poor and move. Not just poor, but poor and far away from everyone I know and love. Wait…this plan doesn’t sound like a good idea. For those of you who haven’t heard, in a few short weeks I will be packing up my faithful Maxwell and hitting the open road heading east. Destinaion? Chicago, IL. Home of deep dish pizza (you guys know how much I love dough, so really it already feels like home to me…see, good idea).
The point of this “Manifesto” is really two fold; One, to call myself out on some bad behaviour and use this opportunity to start anew and fix it; Two, have my friends hold me accountable for my actions; Three, I need three points apparently, to have some basis of comparison from the beginning of this social experiment. And so it begins…
I, Royce, being of sound mind (when I’m not hungry), body (after a decent workout) and heart (during after-glow) do hereby declare this to be my Chicago Manifesto:
I will give this my all to make it work. I can’t go, pretend to look for a job or a good living situation and come home after a few months saying Chicago didn’t work out. I will be gone for at least two years. Yes, two years is how long I think it really takes to become at home with a city, feel like you belong and get the full experience of living there. Like I did with San Francisco, where you’re not a true San Franciscan until a homeless person defacates on the sidewalk in front of you and you don’t bat an eyelash (Why did I think moving to SF was a good idea?). I dont know what Chicago’s version of that is, but I’m staying until it happens. Hopefully it has less to do with homeless people (or me falling on my ass in snow boots) and more to do with getting that mid-western mentality of being nice (or eating pizza). Which brings me to my next point…
I will not dislike or discount people without reason. Most of have you have been through the hazing ritual that is me. I would apologize for it, but there is no need, it’s just who I am and thats why you love me (or some version thereof). Not liking people off the bat is a not always a bad thing, but I do feel like I should start giving people the benefit of the doubt once in a while. We’ll see if I can pull this one off. Along with that, I’m going to curb my insults, insinuations and just be a nice friendly person. I know I’ve built up a bit of a reputation for not being that guy, so I’m going to fix that in my next life.
Speaking of discounting people, let me take a moment to talk about refreshing my dating life…or current lack there of. Going to fix this as well with the move (or so I lead myself to believe) with the following; I will date age appropriate men (26 – 40); No sex on the first date (I was told I have to wait until at least #2…lame); Dates must be ACTUAL dates, none of this “lets hangout at your apartment” business, I need a little effort this go round; Follow up with guys I actually like. I’m not going to assume they’ll call (cause they don’t), so if i’m interested, I’ll call, not text; Guys that treat me bad, flake or otherwise have no manners or social skills are not an option. I do not want a project boyfriend; He has to be willing to be a cheer/rugby/hockey husband at least once in a while and I in return will support his activities. I really don’t think that is going to be terribly difficult, especially since i’m going to be the nice guy…yeah…
Thats mostly it really. Except for the rando left over stuff. Like…workout more and eat better (i’ll be forced onto the “Bunny Diet” al la Derrick since i’ll be poor. Hello tuna and black beans), go to jail at least once (not for anything serious though. I might just go a visit with the inmates), do more art (includes writing), and stop apologizing for shit that isn’t my fault (fuck you very much customer service background).
So that is all I’ve got, at least for now. When I start my journey and you actually care to read what I have to write about, not just see my 4square check ins, I’ll have more to say on the subject of my soul makeover (i’m SO Cher from Clueless right now, just…prettier and I eat meat).
Good Times or Good Stories 