My concern is that, possibly, the place I want to move to does not even exist.
As I write that, I realize that I should come to terms with the fact that, possibly, the place I imagine moving to does not, in fact, exist. Maybe this should be the starting place when searching for a new home...
As biology would have it, we are pretty piss poor predictors of our own future happiness. Without going into the details of how I know this to be true (you can do the reading just like I did—ask for my reading list!), I will say that this knowledge makes it imperative that I make any decisions about moving very carefully. This is because, 1) I have a lot of stuff to move (including a piano, fer christ sake!); and 2) I am not young, so moving is not the kooky spontaneous adventure it once was. In other words, when I move, I ain’t coming back, and I doubt I will then move again. Therefore, when I imagine living in a beatific idyllic city with rolling hills, a country store, and a bar where everybody knows my name, I need to also consider that this place will not be Southern California. Meaning, the weather may suck the big one.
I was raised in San Diego. San Diego has the nickname "America's Finest City". Now I don't know if this is just narcissistic posturing or actual research based fact, but I would say that San Diego is pretty darn fine. The finest, tho? Eh! Who's to decide these things? Nevertheless, i am a California boy, tried and true. This means that normal weather, to me, is sunny and 75-80 degrees. This means that bad weather is when you have to take a jacket with you when going out at night. A light jacket. This means that snow is something created only for decorating holiday card pictures. In other words, I am used to living in the best fucking weather in the entire world.
Given that, I must take into consideration the effect of weather in any city I plan to move to. Especially because I am a bicyclist. Rain I can deal with, wind I can kind of deal with, cold and heat I can deal with, but snow is a no go. So that crosses out any city that gets snow on any sort of a regular basis. I know I could just get a car, but I don't want to. Really these car things are not so great. And you don't know what you are missing by being in one all the time. But that is another post for another day.
So far, Portland is at the top of my list for places that I might like to live in. Now I know that Portland gets a lot of rain. Not as much as Seattle, I hear, but a lot compared to Los Angeles. And yet even with all this rain, Portland is considered the Bike City of the country. So I gotta figure that if I can deal with pharmaceutically enhanced, entitled, ADD, impatient, multi-tasking drivers in L.A. without the benefit of bike paths, then I can most probably deal with a little moisture from Mother Nature. And if you have ever ridden a bike in a light rain, then you will understand me when I say that this is not something that you want to avoid. It feels fucking marvelous. Imagine being warmed up from the riding, and contrast that with the cool shock of raindrops, and you will know what I mean (I usually take my shirt off for maximum effect--delicious). I have a feeling that Portlanders know what I am talking about.
But could I give up all this sunshine? Could I?