The lights are on
Veteran Member - Level 11
This is the story of a man in his late twenties, whose life has taken many twists and turns, many of which have felt out of his control. When an old friend offers him a chance to start over in a new place and foolishly follow his lifelong dream of writing in the video game industry for a living, the young man grasps the opportunity. After years of living in the shadow of his siblings, after wandering through much of his twenties without much direction, he decides to re-take control of his life and take a huge risk. This is the story of a man leaving the life he knows and those he loves to follow his dream in the home of Riceroni, Chinese food, Harvey Milk, and the Rock (the prison, not the wrestler/ actor).
If you haven't figured out yet, this story is about me (as all my stories usually are). One of my best friends, Nick, (not to be confused with TOGNick) has lived in San Francisco since graduating college. He's a 3D modeler with aspirations to work at Pixar or another established animation studio. Every time Nick comes home to visit, we make sure to hang out. This past summer, I was at his parent's house sitting on the porch with his brother, father and him. The four of us were smoking cigars and drinking various whiskeys and bourbons. It was a quintessential night for us. It brought me back to all the nights we had spent sitting around the fire pit in High School. Only s'mores and coors light was replaced by cigars and whiskey (I don't condone underrage drinking, but it happens).
One of the things I always appreciate about Nick is that unlike most of my old High School friends, when we get together, we don't just reminisce about the good ol' days. We actually have things in common and we can actually talk about music, movies, video games, politics etc. So that night we got to talking and Nick, seemingly out of nowhere, told me I should move to San Francisco and offered to put me up at his place for a while. At first, I thought he was joking, or just not realizing how big an offer that was. I didn't want to take it seriously because, frankly, it scared me.
How could I move to San Francisco? My family is here on the east coast. My girlfriend, Taryn is here. Despite the problem's her and I have had over the last year, she is still the greatest woman I know and my love for her makes it hard to even imagine life without her. Meanwhile, my nephews are growing up minute by minute. How could I miss any of that?
Yet, here I sit. Just over one week from hopping on a plane to relocate to the bay and try to find something, anything, because what I have going professionally at the moment is minuscule to say the least.
So I will be going to SF with the goal of meeting some editors, developers, PR professionals, and anyone else I can. I want to make a name for myself and shed that online persona by actually showing people my in-person persona.
One of my professors in a public speaking class told a story about job interviews. He explained that he was interviewing for a job and sensed that the interview wasn't going well. The hiring administrator wasn't very compelled by what he was saying. So he decided to let his actions speak. He figured he had nothing to lose. So before exiting the man's office, he stood up, removed his suit jacket, and climbed onto the executive's desk. At this point he exclaimed that not hiring him would be the biggest mistake of that man's life. He got the job, and stayed with that company for over a decade. He and that executive are still good friends.
Sure, my professor's story could be completely fabricated, and I've often thought it is, but it also doesn't matter. He had nothing to lose, so he took a chance. The worst that could have happened was he would get escorted out of the building. The best that could've happened was that he'd walk out with the job.
Moving to SF is my version of standing on the desk. At this point, at least professionally, I have nothing to lose. I have funds to survive and I have a friend in the city. The rest will be up to me. If it doesn't work out, then I'll come back home to Connecticut, regroup and try to figure out my next move.
I will miss my family. I will miss my friends. I will miss my pets. And I will miss Taryn. I will miss everyone who has helped me survive to this point. But I know in my gut that this is what I need to do. I take a plane out to SF on September 18th, next Tuesday. I hope to write an open journal entry every day for the first month that I'm there. I will talk about each day's excursions into the job market, familiarizing myself with this foreign city, living with a roommate again (even if he is a great friend), missing home and anything else that may come up. This could be called a 30/30, but I don't like to announce those types of things since it could certainly fall through either due to my own laziness, busy schedule or just lack of new things to say.
I'll miss my family. Big time.
If people aren't interested in hearing my inner thoughts and emotions, I certainly understand. It's my life and that's what I'll be writing about. It may seem a bit narcissistic, but I'm honestly not doing it for anyone but myself. So yeah... I guess that's pretty much text book narcissism right there.
Anyway, this shouldn't affect my ability to still host and edit The JACKED UP Indie & Mojo Show (and we have some awesome things planned for this fall, so I wouldn't miss those for the world). It also shouldn't stop me from participating in Extra-life with all you fine people. Anyway, until September 18th...
You stay classy Game Informer
Now watch this clip from one of the greatest action films of all time to get a taste for the city as well as a cautionary tale about talking on cell phones while driving a Hummer at 100 MPH down a busy city street.