A year ago today, the five of us were engaged in some pretty serious heart attacks.
schwa242, Deanna, Chris, Fofy and I were packing our things. We were spot-cleaning the kitchen. We were finalizing everything necessary with Budget Rental. We were preparing for our great trek out West.
A few days later, we were situated in San Francisco. With no jobs, no promises for a location for Tattoo Boogaloo. No assurance that the decision we'd made was the correct one. We did, however, have to start making payments to our business loan within the first week of our arrival.
Since then, we have opened our shop. Fofy and Schwa found work. Schwa has even found it twice. We've been voted AOL's City's Best before we were open for half a year. We've established a great clientele. We've been assured that all of our worries were for nothing, and that this was the best decision of our lives.
It's a bit premature to celebrate our one year anniversary with San Francisco, which we first married on the first of June. But it's difficult not to celebrate every day. The longer I'm here, the more I'm convinced that each day is an anniversary. I cannot contain the joy I feel each day that I am here.
This city engages me. I am in better physical shape than I've ever been because of the lifestyle this city forces upon me. I am happier than I've ever been. There are too many things I want to experience here, and I'm sure that in twenty years, I'll still be irritated that I don't have enough days off to discover them all. I've never been more balanced with my career. I have time to tattoo, draw, make art for the fuck of it, and fuck off. And I have a decent paycheck to show for it. I work with three of my favorite people. I love my shop.
I feel like such a braggart. I have nothing bad to say. I love my life. I love this city. I love it all.
The Ministry of Fools, and the Pity With Which Mr. T Regards Them
- A year in review.