We now pause for a moment of self-reflection.

I've spent a lot of time these past few weeks "what-if'ing." Not in a regretful way, but in a grateful way. Like the guy I dated for 3 minutes who introduced me to some sure-to-be lifelong friends... Like the job that drained me emotionally every single day, but taught me so much about who I am and what I'm capable of... Like the first time I tried squid ink pasta and didn't die.

Like...

What if I hadn't invited myself along on my horridly jealous, eventually unbearably unpleasant college boyfriend's summer road trip? Would I have ever seen the Pacific Ocean, let alone lived next to it for ten years?

What if I had gone to grad school instead of taking a corporate job right out of college? Would I have been able to visit Belize, Australia, Hawaii, Alaska, Puerto Rico, Colorado, Seattle?

What if I had bought a house in California as I, until recently, intended to do? Would I ever leave that state?

My guess to all those questions is "no." I wasn't adventurous ten years ago. I wasn't adventurous three years ago. And here I am, in a new town, basically alone, totally comfortable, happily exploring everything and everywhere, putting myself confidently out there to potential friends and potential employers. I honestly haven't had one single moment of doubt since I got here. The last moment of truth came this morning when I bought a single ticket for two upcoming bands. Until now I haven't really wanted to go alone to a show, but this morning I realized I just didn't care, and it would all be fine.

So - gulp - I think I hereby repress my worry that something terrible is going to happen. And I hereby succumb to all you "it was meant to be"-sayers. That's right. Not only did I think it, I WROTE IT DOWN.

Aaaaaand... let the games begin. GULP.