I Still Don't Know Why They Call It An Apple, Though...

I can't believe I haven't written here since July.

Actually, there's a lot of things I can't believe at the moment, including the fact that I ever lived in Lost Angeles because even though it's only been two weeks since I've lived in NYC I feel like it's been forever. The good-way "forever"--not the bad way.

So, yes, finally, finally, finally I'm here. And finally, finally, finally I'm sitting at a desk at my desktop computer writing this rather than on the couch with my laptop which for some reason just doesn't work for me, that whole laptop thing.

Moving is a bizarre reality check. I was thinking about something I heard years ago that's always stayed with me: "Your parents know you as who you were, your friends know you as who you are now; and strangers know you as who you're going to be." Which, when you think about it, is true. Well, except that strangers know you as who you are now and who you're going to be. For instance, when I meet people here and they ask what I do and I say "I'm a writer and my book is coming out in February," I almost feel like I'm lying or something. It's the truth, but it's just so...weird. I guess because it's my biggest dream come true and yet it feels like it took so long to happen. Plus, I'm so used to having to say "Well, I was a TV exec for a long time, but then I left to write." That part is true, too, but it finally feels like it's way in the past and has been put to rest.

And now I have to actually go write. Not that what I'm doing this moment isn't writing, but I have to go work on the stuff that will result in people giving me checks so that I can afford to live here.