And the “Y’all know I’m originally from New York, Shawty” bonus tracks

And the “By ‘New York,’ I mean state, not city — Long Island to be specific” bonus track

Also see: Part I and Part II

Now since my revelation, I also fell in love with and became engaged to a man who lives in a city that I never wanted to visit, let alone live in.

But visit I did. Imagine my surprise when I realized that I kind of like Los Angeles.

Los Angeles has palm trees, (mostly) 70-degree winters, and scads of beaches. It has amazing art museums and at least one dope art gallery.

L.A. has a more robust transit system than it gets credit for, and a food culture that mixes haute cuisine, food trucks, ethnic food, and mash-up eats with fresh-from-the-next-county farmers markets.

It has walkable neighborhoods. It has a growing bicycle infrastructure. When I step out of my apartment-to-be, I see mountains. There are recreation opportunities like a mother-f*cker out here and I’ll have friends to do them with. It’s kind of incredible.

In short, Los Angeles, has most of what I’m looking for in a city. I know! I’m shocked too!

I’m leaving Atlanta in about two-and-a-half weeks to shack up with Jason. Early next year, I will start a new job. Then in May, 2011 after what will be a 15 month and three days-long engagement, Jason and I will make our partnership legal.

Truth be told, despite Jason, I’d still be leaving. I just reached a point where I can’t do this any more. I doubt I would have moved to Los Angeles, but I would not have stayed in Atlanta. Ten years in a place that doesn’t motivate you to happiness is enough.

I am scared as hell. The next six months are chock-full of HUGE life changes. But I am also looking forward to leaving Atlanta. I have made a few friends here and I will miss them. I have my favorite restaurants, and I will miss those. I know much of Atlanta and DeKalb County like the back of my hand, so I am a bit unnerved by the prospect of having to learn my way around a new city.

But it’s time.

Read: “My Lost Decade, Part I”

For years, I have questioned whether it was me or the city. I thought my own inability to create deep, intimate friendships or find a community was internal. But I noticed something curious when I traveled. When I am away from Atlanta, I am a different person. I’m curious. I’m friendly. I explore. I have fun. I make friends. You might even mistake me for extravert. Something about Atlanta didn’t bring out the best in me.

I have a lot of bad memories here. I did, after all, nickname one of my two ex-boyfriends “The Dodged Bullet.” Every job I’ve had here pushed me towards burn out. Before I got with Jason, dating was a miserable experience. And oh yeah, there’s that great big bit of financial f*ckery.

I believe the appropriate phrase to use here is “bad juju.” Atlanta holds a decade’s worth of it for me. That’s not to say life would have been roses had I moved back to New York, or moved to the Bay Area, Portland, or New Orleans when I wanted to. But it is to say that I’ve been here for the last ten years, and that time has been more miserable than not.

I think my tipping point came a few years ago when I realized I had more friends in New York City and the San Francisco Bay Area than I had in Atlanta. Those New York friends are, except for S., not people I knew in high school. I have never even lived in the Bay Area. But I felt deeper connections both to people that live there, and to the cities themselves than I did or do for where I live now. That’s when I started to question the relationship between happiness and place.

Since that revelation, I have traveled a bit both internationally and domestically. I experienced a few cities that are larger than Atlanta. I experienced cities that are smaller than (or roughly the same size as) than Atlanta.

I took stock of what I enjoyed about those trips, and decided what I wanted out of my next city:

• A distinct, authentic, uncommercial, un-corporate city flavor;
• Kick-ass food culture;
• Reliable transit that isn’t hamstrung by a deep urban-rural divide;
• A walkable city, or at least a large number of foot-friendly neighborhoods;
• A visible art scene, preferably with high-quality museums and strong public funding;
• Liberal or progressive politics and policies;
• Racial and ethnic diversity and an integrated cultural experience;
• A plethora of opportunities in my current career, as well as opportunities to try a new path.
• Close to a coast, but a sexy lake shore will do

Bonus points for year-round warm weather and outdoor recreation. I don’t swim, hike, run, or bike on a regular basis, but I like knowing that it’s there.

That’s what I enjoyed most about the cities I visited. That’s what I want my every day to look like.

Next: My Lost Decade, Part III

Resistance is what you begin to embody when the culture changes and you find that you stand for values that are no longer fashionable. … I don’t get up the morning and decide to resist. But I have an impulse towards critical speech and then the culture resists me. That is the counterintuitive truth about how resistance works: just as lightning appears to strike from the sky downwards but actually rises from the earth, resistance runs not only from the individual towards the culture but, more profoundly, from the culture against the individual.

Feminist artist, art critic, and teacher Mira Schor on resistance and art in her essay The White List. The essay overall discusses the effects of resisting — of being a contrarian voice, a radically critical voice — in a culture that sees itself as progressive, but is really establishment and only slightly left of center. Yes, I am using capital-‘p’ political terms here. I think they’re appropriate.

I had not heard of Schor before hearing about her lecture at The Contemporary, but I am intrigued by what she said and plan to learn more.

Check out images of some of her pieces in the Brooklyn Museum’s Feminist Art Base. Or you can see a few of them in person at The Contemporary’s current exhibit “Substitute Teacher, ” on view until May 16.

Schor is also the author of two books, Wet and A Decade of Negative Thinking.

It’s really easy to complain and point the finger and eyeroll at what’s not fair, what others are doing, and how you’re being affected by it. I made an honest effort to not just want to change things about myself, but be an active and willing participant in making that change happen.

Derrick on what he’s doing with life in 2010.

Yes. This. Also see: this quote from Jim Rohn (via Jason).

If you don’t like where you are, change it. You are not a tree.

I have more to say about both of these points, but for now, this is enough.

They have self-design down, but somehow convince themselves that with enough self design, they can be happy in any situation. Ignore the fact that they have no passion for their job, they don’t communicate well with their spouse, and they live in a city where they hate the weather and the local culture.

That’s from David Croushore of 30 Days at A Time, in a guest post on Free Pursuits.

I related to this passage a little too well today. I’m in the midst a major life change that has caused me to reflect on my current situation, how I landed here, and possibilities.

I moved to (metro) Atlanta almost ten years ago. I have never loved it, and I have just worked up to I like some things about it. Yet, for a variety of reasons — which can really be boiled down to fear — I stayed. And bought a house.

I also traveled. New Orleans captured my soul. I fell in love with Portland. I came thisclose to relocating to the Yay. I developed a deep passion for New York City. I had fantasies of decamping to Barcelona, Spain and Essaouira, Morocco. I had a blast with friends and geeks for five straight years in Austin, Texas at South by Southwest.

And I noticed that when I am elsewhere, I not only have a lot more fun, but I am a lot more fun. I’m bubbly. I’m more outgoing. I want to explore and experience. I walk. I talk to people. I am more flexible and free-spirited.

That said, I also battle depression. It’s such a funny thing, that disease. It can really skew your perception of reality. I am aware of this, so I try to be mindful of whether I am really feeling a particular feeling, or whether it’s the depression (and anxiety, since I am on the subject) talking.

For much of the last ten years, I have attributed this feeling that veers between unease and misery I experience to me. I convinced myself that I need to change. But you know, maybe it’s my situation that needs to change.*

* Or the truth may be somewhere in between.

New York, and LA are bad for traffic, but according to a new survey by GPS maker TomTom, Seattle takes the cake.

TomTom used data from Tele Atlas speed profiles to determine the percentage of congested roadways in a given city.

[Via Elliott.org]

Jay Pipes of MySQL AB and co-author of Pro MySQL, comes to Atlanta this month to present “Join-Fu: The Art of SQL.”

I’ve seen Pipes speak before, and his presentation was incredibly informative. If you do a lot of development with MySQL, you should definitely attend.

Related:

• Jay Pipes’s Slides for Join-Fu: The Art of SQL (I and II) (I do not know whether this will be the same talk as the one Pipes will give next month.)
• RSS for Tech Events

I had a dead pine tree in my back yard that was 30 or so feet tall. A southeast arbor pro came, saw, removed tree, and didn’t damage anything. The stump left behind is almost flush with the ground. My grass (okay, my backyard is mostly low-cut weeds, not really grass) is in tact.

They did an awesome job and have no qualms about recommending them if you need a tree removed.

Bonus: they’re really nice folks.

Call them at 770-982-2813.

Highlights of Design Is Human include a wine tasting at Poliform SWITCH, the Belgium Design & Fashion Event for Darfur, and a modern home tour.

Ticket prices vary. Many events are free. More information is available at the Modern Atlanta web site (designed and developed by some ultra-groovy folks).

If the post-Sex 2.0 fetish and swing party isn’t your thing, but you still want to have a sex-centric Saturday night, I’ve got some options for you.

Atlanta Film Festival

These screenings and panels take place Saturday, April 12. Admission is $10.

• Out On Film: Distribution Issues in LGBT Film [Panel; 5:15 p.m. at Wyndham Midtown]
• SEX: The Revolution [Screening; 8 p.m. Landmark Art Cinema]
• FIGHTFUCKPRAY [Screening; 8:10 p.m. Landmark Art Cinema]

Will you be here Sunday too? Groovy. I’ve got some more goodies for you:

• The AIDS Chronicles – Here to Represent [Screening; 4:45 p.m. Landmark Art Cinema]
• Out on Film Shorts [Screening; 9:45 p.m. Landmark Art Cinema]

Strip clubs

More into strip clubs? All clubs listed below feature female dancers except for the Coronet Club and Swinging Richards. I have only been to one (Strokers). Information below is based on local reputation and/or the venue’s web site. (For your information: Atlanta strip clubs are all nude, but you can’t touch the dancers.)

Swinging Richards

1400 Northside Dr., Atlanta. Gay male crowd. Women aren’t banned, but bridal shower and raucous girls night out types of groups are. Please respect the space.

Coronet Club

5275-B Roswell Rd, Atlanta. All male dancers for a female clientele.

The Cheetah

887 Spring Street, Atlanta. The Cheetah is a ‘Gentleman’s Club‘ geared toward the business set. What does that mean? No poles. (Boo!) Rumor is that their upscale restaurant Alluvia is pretty good. Mostly white dancers.

Magic City

241 Forsyth St SW, Atlanta. Word is that Magic City is the premier strip club featuring black dancers. Ludacris filmed his ‘P-Poppin’ video here. The crowd tends towards ‘baller’ (as well as the ‘I just cashed my check so I can fake it’ set). I also hear the table dances and cover charge are higher than most places. Music = hip-hop.

Strokers

1353 Brockett Rd, Clarkston. It’s in a strip mall. Crowd: hip-hop. Dancers? Mostly black. Not as heavy on the eye-candy as Magic City is rumored to be. Dances are $10. Cover is $10. Music? All crunk.

Pink Pony

1837 Corporate Blvd., Atlanta, GA. Kind of legendary. I hear it’s fun. Dancers are mostly white.

All sexed out? (Impossible!)

Will you be all-sexed out by conference end? Here are some other options:

• Dan Marshall at Apache Cafe. $10
• La Moustache at the High Museum. $5
• When Something Wonderful Ends at Actor’s Express. $27 (Closing night)
• Doubt at the Alliance Theatre. $40 – $50
• Eurydice at the Alliance Theatre (Hertz Stage). $30

• Lea Donosky, interactivity manager, Atlanta Journal-Constitution
• Jeremy C. Garlington, publisher of The Garlington Report
• Greg Lisby, professor of journalism, Georgia State University
• David Rubinger, VP, Corporate Communications, Equifax

This panel will be moderated by Dr. John Knapp, Director of GSU Center for Ethics and Corporate Responsibility

I encourage all bloggers to go and be vocal about what journalists and businesspeople do and (sadly) don’t get about online.

Sex 2.0 will focus on the intersection of social media, feminism, and sexuality. How is social media enabling people to learn, grow, and connect sexually? How is sexual expression tied to social activism? Does the concept of transparency online offer new opportunities or present new roadblocks — or both? These questions, and many more, will be addressed within a safe, welcoming, sex-positive space.

I know there will be at least two people of color speaking, which I hope is a sign that race — and how sex and pornography are racialized as well as gendered — will at least be mentioned.

I will also try my best not to blush, giggle or tee-hee while attending.

Actor Doyle Reynolds does an amazing job of playing a total of 36 characters in two acts. He skillfully uses changes in voice, body position and gestures to draw each character for the audience. It’s truly an incredible performance.

The Pulitzer Award-winning script is based on playwright Doug Wright’s interviews with and research about von Mahlsdorf and her life. He captures both von Mahlsdorf’s life and the controversy surrounding her receipt of a government medal and involvement with the East German secret police (the Stasi).

Wright leaves the questions surrounding von Mahlsdorf unanswered, but explains why Charlotte is so important to gay history and identity: “I need to believe that a man could survive two of the most repressive regimes the West has ever seen in a pair of heels.” (I think that’s the exact line.)