Deciding to leave California would’ve been a lot easier without these jerks.
[P.S.: Arthur, I’m stealing your photos, thanks.]
We were truly, incredibly fortunate during our time in California to meet so many great people. In fact, I’d venture to say the proportion of swell-to-crummy people in California is much higher than in Philadelphia. Or, at least, they take better Instagram photos. Still, Arthur and Eric were in a league of their own (God, I can’t even get three paragraphs in without turning this gay.)
Arthur and Eric were fast friends to us, allowing us to consider California a home for however brief a period of time we lived there. They folded us in to their extended network of friends, inviting us two weirdos to parties and get-togethers when we knew nobody and hadn’t really earned it.
These fellas were one of the main reasons we struggled, even until the very end, with our decision to move back to Philadelphia. Good friends don’t come along all that often, y’know? You can’t break any ol’ person’s glassware or call them dumpy and get away with it so easily.
We ultimately made the decision to go back to Philadelphia because, looking at the whole picture, it seemed like the better move at this point in time, for both of our careers. But I won’t ever say it was easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy to come back.
Thank you, Arthur and Eric. Thank you to my parents for visiting so frequently. Thanks to Phil and Michael flying all the way out to California–selfishly, we needed it more than you know. Thanks, too, to everybody else who extended a lifeline to us, even if you didn’t realize it. Thank you, thank you.