Diary of a Decision, Part I

The following are excerpts from my handwritten journal, along with explanatory notes.

April 4, 2006
I was born to do this. I was born to do this. There will be blood on the paper because this is the only thing I know beyond myself. It is myself.

That’s it. Do you feel the tingling? Someone sitting in another place, doing another thing, is having an impact on your life. The moment before the pendulum repeats its arc. No stopping now. Do it.

I’ve wanted to live in New York City for over ten years. In 1995, I decided that I wanted to go to school at NYU for broadcasting and eventually work for MTV News. I’m a bit of a news junkie, but I realized in high school that my peers were having less and less interest in traditional media and I wanted to figure out a way to get a message to them in the media that was most likely to hold their attention.

Unfortunately, about $10,000 of my financial aid for NYU fell through at the very last minute. I deferred my admission so that I could try to work something out and attend NYU in the spring, but it didn’t work out. I wound up at the University of New Hampshire (my state school), which didn’t even have a broadcast program. What UNH did have was a very strong print journalism program. I know that I wound up at the place that was best for me at the time.

I finished college with honors in three and a half years and applied to graduate school, still convinced that I wanted to try my hand at broadcasting. Again, I applied to NYU as well as Columbia University. I was accepted to both, but Northwestern University in Illinois had the superior broadcasting program and would afford me the opportunity to live and work in several places during the program. So, NYC eluded me again.

After all of this happened, I decided it was really the right time to cut ties and pursue what I want to do with my life. The short list of possible next destinations included New York, Los Angeles and Atlanta. L.A. made the list because I’ve lived everywhere in the U.S. but the west coast. They have gorgeous sunshine there and it’s imperative that I live within driving distance of the ocean or I can’t function.

However, the streets are filled with plastic bobbleheaded bitches and I’d want to end it after one day of dealing with them. Cross L.A. off the list. Atlanta has a little piece of my heart because my whole fam is down in Florida and Georgia and it would be so nice to live near everyone. Plus, the city is just a fun place to be. Oh, and Nina lives there. However, it is not the place to live to do the things I want to do professionally. I’d be out at the strip clubs every damn night and get nothing done.

Ahhh, New York. What sealed it was back at the beginning of April, I was talking to a guy and he was telling me about he was about to move to California. This was a really successful guy; president of his company at the same age as me, owned a beautiful house, had tons of close friends in the area. He was going to give it all up to pursue a film program at a school he had always wanted to go to. How cool is that? And I’m on the phone with him, telling him about the things I wanted to do, and he says to me “You’ve got too much flava for Manch[ester].” Now, when a white boy is telling you that you have too much flava, it’s time to get the f*ck out.

Continue to Diary of Decision, Part 2 by clicking here.


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