NY Girl in an LA World

After graduating college, I decided to make the big move from NY to LA. After spending four years pursuing a degree in French, Spanish and Japanese with minors in Journalism and Art History, I had finally decided what I wanted to do with my life . . . go to fashion school. Makes complete sense, right? Truth be told, I think it just took me four years to get the balls to actually go for what I wanted instead of trying to find something that was more practical to do with my life, (not that the dying field of journalism or the oh so profitable world of art history were much more practical goals). Anywho, there I was a young, bright eyed, bushy tailed, college grad at the end of June lugging my overweight suitcases through security at JFK. Having traveled to 20 different countries over the course of the past few years, the prospect of traveling to another state did not seem quite as daunting, well, that is, until I got here. It wasn't until a few weeks after being in LA that I finally began to process what I had done. It was like I had been drunk and then woke up to find glitter in my bellybutton, someone else's pants on and an empty bottle of jack, causing me to question what become of my life. Only in this case, it was more like I woke up to the sound of the skype ring tone with crazy roommates from the mid-west, a leopard print wheely backpack (listen - they're cool in fashion school) and a tap bus pass, slapping me across the face with the realization that toto was not in freaking Kansas anymore. Since then, I have managed to shake the crazies from the midwest and embrace the crazies from the bus. While LA will never be NY, it is slowly becoming home.