Dear Los Angeles: I quit

And it is with a heavy heart that I must turn in my resignation from my post as miserable resident of Los Angeles.

Wait, no.

SFX: Record scratch.

No, that's not right. I haven't a heavy heart at all, it's quite light in fact. Light like whipped cream on an Ikea frozen yogurt treat. I've been waiting for this for at least two years. I was in the midst of planning my jail break style exodus when I met my future husband. This of course sort of stalled my efforts. I say sort of because we agreed we would, in the future, plan to leave.

When we were getting to know each other, our main mode of conversation was my griping about LA. The people, the weather (I hate the heat and I have a major boner for the rain), the lack of non-puke covered public transit, and the constant feeling of financial failure despite doing all that you fucking can to succeed. Yes, we agreed that we hated all those things. And so now, we have agreed on a timeline for escape.

And in all likelihood, barring any possibility of emigrating to Canada, we will move northward to the Pacific North West. My homeland.

I feel like this is my Alcatraz. I'll swim with the sharks in the bay god dammit! I've been planning my breach of security for years now, and finally a date of expiry has been written in stone.

And so, when we announced this intent to our good friend Pedro, he seemed shocked.

"Why would you want to move there? People just get old there."

"Well, people get old everywhere, and it's not like we're some special breed of person that is getting younger." I replied.

Jab and I continued on our patented duet rant as to why we must get the fuck out of LA.

"It's hot."

"We want public transit."

"We want a smaller wealth gap."

"We like the rain."

"We want to get out while we're young."

"We want to be able to buy a place so we can have a dog."

And the list goes on.

But the most important fact is that it just isn't worth the money to be here. We pay a premium just to be in LA, and why? If there's anything, maybe it's the proximity to surfing, but I don't surf so I don't care.

I always wondered why so many Californians move to Oregon. When I was a kid, my dad even invented a product that was featured on several local news shows called "The Californian Detection Kit". It poked fun at everything that was stereotypical about Californians at the time (the late 80s). An offense to fine smelling air, blonde hair, dark skin combined with blonde hair, and the willingness to pay for bottled water (at the time, a sin). Through this, as well as his general bitching about Californians, I always wondered why they wanted so badly, and in such droves, to come to the northwest. I even misunderstood this so deeply, that I did the opposite, and moved to Los Angeles.

And now, it has become all too clear to me. Quietude, weather, the stretching of a dollar, seeing rain actually wash dirt and leaves away instead of people with their damned hoses. The idea is all incredibly relieving to me.

As my future husband says, "It'll be good for my lifehappy."

He's not retarded, he's just creatively articulate. I promise.

I've done my time. I've learned my lessons and had my experiences. I have the great clusterfuck of Los Angeles to thank for that. Of course I'll keep learning things, I'll keep having experiences, I'm not leaving town just to get old and die. I'm leaving town to get back some some freedom for my wallet and my brain.