Gitano

Dear Jack,

My little gitano!  You are free to live wherever you want.  I think you should live in Paris and study art and cooking.  Learn to speak French.  There's nothing tying you guys down.  Live on less than nothing and experience life, my little gitano...  I love you, Jack.  Tell Brian hi!

Love and blessings,
Dad

That's what my father wrote back when I wrote to him explaining our recent decision to move to Los Angeles, California.  Sure, it's no Paris (and no New York either) but it's definitely a step in the right direction.  At least Brian and I think so.

Sometime in October I think is when we first started to consider an out-of-state move.  Up until then, I was sure we would stay in Utah another year at least.  But one day while browsing online for new apartment rentals in Salt Lake City, I decided to do a search for apartments in New York.  Then Los Angeles.  I even looked into Colorado Springs where my siblings live.  I just started looking at various random cities and states as the sudden realization came over me:  we can live anywhere.

While there was a definite reason why I came to Utah, there is no reason why Brian and I should live in Utah now.  I came out here to go to Brigham Young University, and obviously that reason is now null and void.  I don't regret coming out here because this is where I met Brian.  In fact, I'm positive that he is the only reason I was meant to move to Utah at all.  We've been together two years now living in Salt Lake City (a place we moved to escape the bubble that is Provo/Orem) but there isn't a concrete reason for staying here.  We aren't attending school here, we're just working.  And the jobs we have are by no means our dream jobs.  I don't want to work in retail for the rest of my life any more than Brian wants to work at a movie theater.  If anything, staying put here in Salt Lake City is like floating when we need to be swimming.

So it was earlier this month that we made the firm decision to move to California.  With our lofty dreams of becoming movie directors and animators, it just seems the state to be in.  Brian can attend auditions for stage shows and movies and television series, and there are a ton of great animation schools I can attend once we've attained California residency.  Plus, I'll be closer to a lot of my extended family who live in the LA area, including my Tia Loca and my maternal grandparents.  It's risky just picking up and leaving, but we fear that if we don't do it now we won't do it ever.

Of course, it will be sad to leave our friends and family here in Utah.  We've been sharing the news with people little by little, and most are extremely excited for us even if they are sad to see us go.  Brian's mom, however, did not take the news so well.  We've been the most afraid to tell her, and we kept finding reasons to put it off.  We were going to tell her when they all came over for our early Thanksgiving meal on the 14th, but then decided we didn't want to spoil the celebration.  We even considered just moving and telling her once we were there, but that clearly wasn't the best idea.  So it was yesterday, on Thanksgiving, when she kept asking if we'd found a new place, that I finally told her.

You see, Brian was at work (the poor kid worked from 8 AM to 2 AM yesterday, an 18-hour shift) so I rode with Brian's sister Jenny down to celebrate Thanksgiving with the family.  I almost went to Thanksgiving with my roommate Mesun, but decided at the last minute that it would be better to spend it with the Keslers.  I'm glad I did, because at least the cat is out of the bag now.  I finally had to tell her, because she could tell something was up and she kept trying to get information out of everyone else.  We had already told his sisters.  So finally I said, yes, we are moving out of state.  She guessed California and I said yes.  And then came the waterworks.

She cried and cried and cried.  But not because she was upset with our decision, but because she was going to miss us.  Desperately.  Brian's mom admittedly has a hard time with cutting the apron strings.  She doesn't want any of her kids to move away from her... especially as far away as California.  "What about the birthdays?" she asked.  "What about the recitals and the concerts and the holidays?"  She misses us enough already, and we only live an hour away.

Poor thing.  Jenny kept assuring me that she would be all right.  I hope so.  And now that Mama Kesler knows, I figure it's safe to really make it known on my blog.  We're moving to Los Angeles at the end of this year.  We don't have every detail figured out yet, but we're moving no matter what.  I guess it's true that I'm just a gitano, a gypsy, and I have to keep moving on.  I need to add another location to my ongoing list of addresses...