Trapped in the Golden State

someone once described my life as a mobile french film. a mixture of cynicism and romanticism, a pack of gauloises, a bottle of of syrah...it made sense. these days, my life feels more like a black-and-white film about the Holocaust.

Sadness.

I'm single again, for the first time in over two and a half years. I've lost my best friend, my lover, my world. Worst of all, I'm now alone in California.

You see, I moved out for here with my now ex-boyfriend so that he could pursue his dream. I left my friends behind, my awesome Astoria apartment, the impeccable city of New York. I gave these things up in exchange for the greater hope that I would be with the love of my life, and we would start a brilliant new future together in the land of warm weather and palm trees. I would get a job at my dream company, which I did, and he would have his amazing new job.

The problem was that there were problems before we moved. These problems, I realize now, were permanent, fixed. And California sucked. Still does. Always will?

So here I am. A year and one month after moving to California, I am living on my own in a San Jose apartment. I miss New York so much my chest aches. I spend most of my weekends alone. I struggle to relate to people, to make friends.

A lot of my struggles have to do with my hating California. I mean, who wants to hang out with someone who hates the place you happily live in? Nobody. That's understandable. Also, I'm sad. No one likes sad people, either.

I'm not sure what to do next. My immediate hope is to move back to New York City, to the land of the sarcastic and street smart. My people.

In this economy, it's not as likely. I need to have a Plan B.

My Plan B: I don't have one. Survive, I guess. Try to make friends where I can, exceed expectations at work, and do my best to create a new life for myself, a life in which I can be happy. A pitiful existence, perhaps, but it's the best I can manage.

What about Plan C? Can someone rescue me?