Hello. I guess I'm up again.

The strange thing about knowing my next step and the events that will transpire in the next few months due to the decisions that I've made about my life is that - I'm strangely in no rush. There is no resounding fervency, heated passion, blind naivete, youthful abandon-and-stuff, electric excitement of discovering something new and unknown for the first time.

There is a known destination, a few more recognized goals, as well as some vague outlines of paths on how to achieve them.

There is a bit more caution. A bit more fear. More pressure. More at stake. More stress, and, undoubtedly, more baggage.

There are losses that are already well known and understood, experienced.

I first moved to Los Angeles seven years ago - back in 2005, a fresh college grad. I still have a pair of jeans from that year that no longer fit me.

There was always something about LA that sat a little bit in discomfiture - a disquietude - something about the raging disparity between the socioeconomic classes so closely living together in the same metropolitan area; how so many struggle when their neighbors rest easy. It's a disconcerting thing.

And there was always something depressing about the city - the dirtiness of the real LA, the streets that you don't see in movies; the traffic, the money wasted on parking and traffic tickets.

But, then again, it is the city where dreams are pursued and stars born. It is a place where passion burns hot and creative hopefuls so heartily and sincerely pursue their dreams and their loves.

So, for me, it is where I am going to get back to pursuing my dream. Because, in the end, that's what I really want for myself this year. I want to get focused on my career, get established, get writing. Get back to the task at hand.

I have to stop worrying so much about what people will think. Or if I feel embarrassed or not.

Life is short. If your heart's not really in it, what's the point?

So I realized that my heart wasn't really into disappearing abroad this year. And being out of my comfort zone all the time, every day, in a foreign country. And it isn't into sticking around the suburbs until the semi-okay job that I could withstand doing for awhile rolls around. I kept thinking about LA. Dreaming about the things I wanted.

But when is it right to follow that? How do you know it's not just something passing? People want to take vacations all the time, they talk about it - doesn't mean that they would fit in. Doesn't mean that it would be economically feasible or personally responsible - just because you want something doesn't mean you should do it.

So how do you know if it's something you want, you truly want for yourself, for your life, for your career, and not just some passing fad that you only want on some mildly entertaining level?

Damn. No wonder I feel like I've been drifting from career possibility to possibility for the past 8 months.

I guess you don't really know - who really knows anything for sure? You just gotta take a risk sometimes. The things in life that are worth having usually involve some sort of risk.

I left LA and moved to Prague because I didn't feel like moving and finding another apartment. When I left, I didn't see myself as ever coming back.

And then this trip to my friend's wedding in LA happened, and the realization of the many things I really missed, enjoyed, loved about LA.

And that open mic night happened at the Improv. And I performed stand-up comedy.

And I wanted to get up and do it again. And try my hand at stand-up. In LA. And I just didn't see that happening if I jetted off again. And thus delay it for a year.

I guess I hope I'm not going to LA just because I don't feel a strong enough pull from anywhere else. Because I don't - have a strong enough leaning toward anywhere else - I even tried. So, I guess, I checked around to see where else would have me, and it didn't seem like there were any other claims. Perhaps that is where I am meant to be - LA.

And, I don't want to put too much stress on the open mic night as a strong pull. It's a pull - but not one of the 3,000-mile-move-inducing ilk.

But I suppose it's another thing being out of my comfort zone, in another way, by pursuing my dreams of becoming a (working) writer in LA. Of being in a position where I could make mistakes. I guess I have to at least try. Even though, seven years later, I probably have more fears than I did before.

I remember how I was back in 2005.

So...fearless.

The past seven years I've seen and heard about all the success stories, but I've also heard about the starving artists. The still struggling young professionals. I've learned more of what mistakes there are that could be made, the ones that I could make.

Perhaps God is giving me an opportunity to be fearless.

Wow. I'd forgotten about that. If God is with us, who can be against us?

I probably have gotten more fears of failure over the years. Man.

And if you don't give up, you'll never fail. Right?

But, I guess I may not have such strong, impassioned, juvenile pulls in life directions that I once did. Sometimes things may subtly suggest. Perhaps I'm supposed to know myself well enough by now to detect those things?

The problem of not knowing what you want is that you can't make any decisions in life because of it.

But, people always seem to end up doing exactly what they're supposed to do, in the cities they're supposed to be in.

I wonder, if I wasn't a writer, I wouldn't be such a neurotic fish about examining what I want and the reasons why I want them. And questioning everything, analyzing, pondering, prodding. What I found slightly unsettling was that I didn't go through all the thinking and planning of how I would orchestrate my move back to LA - I just kind of floated around to that decision. And I'm used to planning. Organizing. But this didn't happen. I just kind of went there.

So, basically, all these thoughts are a vast minutiae of what my usual or expected amount of research and contemplation would've been before reaching such a monumental decision.

Maybe if I was a man I wouldn't be thinking so much, so naturally, instinctively. I'd probably just be thinking about sex. And women.

I guess I don't want to go into it impulsively. I don't want to make such a major decision based on emotions alone, and figuring and recognizing that is an animal of its own.

But the rejection of the job offer wasn't that difficult to send over. The decision to head back to LA didn't hit me with a resounding gong like the undeniable passion I had when I first moved there. There was no defining moment, no dramatic sign, nothing. It was just a thought. And it just sort of floated over me. Yes, I'll move back to LA. Yes, I want to establish myself in my career. Yes, I want to do this. I guess strong emotions would've made decision-making easier; but life doesn't always point you with blatant instructions.

I feel like I've been waiting my turn at a game of bowling or Scrabble. Everyone else has been playing their frames, picking up and placing letters down, forming their next few moves. This whole time I've been watching everyone else play - only, I'm not restless for my turn because I haven't known what the heck my move would be. It's weird to not know what your next play will be. It means that you are at a standstill, you can't move forward or backward with no plan, no strategy - you can only sit and wait until you know what your next move will be.

I guess all the players have made their moves, and finally, I've come to a decision and I'm up again.

Time to make a move.