Oh, the congestion

So I've been saying LA, and I've been saying LA. And I've been dreaming LA for years longer than I'm willing to admit. And when I finally have the chance to go...goddamn it if I didn't decide on a career path.

I'm clearly a little stunted in the whole life thing, as I still have a little of the "I can save the world" in me. Probably the lack of personal offspring. But it's more serious than just "can". It's a must. I know that I would feel guilty if I took that cush office job and didn't do something.

So I've decided to go into international development/child welfare. I hate the first term. That assumes that these societies are in a place that is unsatisfactory. All societies develop though, I just hope I don't become part of an organization that forces the develop. I think Lenin proved that was a bad idea.

Anyway, my point is, I want to work in the sphere of international aid. It seems the only way to do that in LA is to sit around trying to collect money from starlets.

I mean, obviously, best case scenario, I'm not even doing most of my work in this country, but I have to be based somewhere.

I've been holding out on Chicago. I love Chicago, and I've been saying that I want to settle there. It dawned on me this week, I'm not 18 anymore. I'm closer to 30 than I am 20, and while I don't need to "settle" per se, it's not a bad idea to head to a town that I love and that in general has more love to give than Los Angeles.

How can I have done so much and still feel like life is passing me by? I will never be able to die satisfied. I will never have seen enough. I will never have experienced enough. Maybe I should go ahead and make my bucket list so I'll have something to satisfy myself if I should, god forbid, make it to old age.

I'm starting with that ground up snake bone spread I saw on Travel Channel today.