Crossroads. Intersections. Detours.

(Why do we assign life decisions, nodal points so to speak, to driving metaphors? Fuck that. I don't drive. )

But, still, when I look around at my life at this point, I see the word Crossroads appear in my mind in the brightest, cleanest, freshest, light. True light. I see paths, and choices, and futures.

Like that Many Universes theory of time travel, within every second, a infinite number of possible divergent futures branch from a single point in time. Coming up for me is going to be a moment when my whole future might be decided.

I'm 24. I'm about to graduate from art school and then I have to make a decision. I can stay in San Francisco, find a job in the field I studied or at McDonalds if that fails, and live. I've settled here in this gorgeous city of blues and greens and hills and diversity and freedom. I can see myself spending the rest of my life, basically, chillin' in San Francisco. It's a relaxed, comfortable, place, where the pace of life is a snail's pace compared to that of NYC (my hometown.) I love it. I love the weather. I love the way streetsigns have little glowing images instead of WALK and DON'T WALK. I love the underground MUNI system, a small subway network that pales in comparison to the labyrinthine NYC subway (i can't help compare everything to New York. I'll never, ever, stop being a New Yorker, no matter where i love or how old i get. that's what that city is like). I love the people of San Francisco, the friendly, peaceful, mostly democratic citizens. And I love California, even though I wouldn't live anywhere else in the state but the Bay Area.

Or. I could leave. I could go to New York City. Always a possibility. I sometimes say that city runs through my blood like subway cars underneath Manhattan. I know I'll be back at some point. But, I'm thinking: not this time.

I could, and very well might, leave San Francisco and go hang out with my mom for awhile in Florida. She's kinda lonely and in a not-so-great-place. I know me being down there, just being around her, would bring her out of this funk. I love my independence, wouldn't trade it for the world, but there are some things, actually many things, that are more important than what I want. It would be great for me, too. I would probably do the lazy-bum-just-finished-college-thing. Write a book or something. That could be fun.

Or, one of the most intriguing possibilities, is go spend some time with my family in Israel. I haven't seen any of them in six years, since I last spent a great couple weeks in Israel when I was eighteen. So, I may, and do want, to do this. I have, literally, a herd of relatives over there. A room, for sure, for me, in Haifa with my aunt and a dozen others places I could spend some time all over the country. Yes. I know what you're thinking. The terrorism scares me too. I'd probably be taking a lot of buses or trains and those are #1 targets. My worries, and my american family's concerns for the same reason, may block me from doing this. But hopefully not. Once in Israel, not only do I expect a barrage of inspiration from the land of my people and my parents (like I experienced on previous trips), but Europe and Asia are a hop-and-a-skip-and-a-jet away. I want to explore! I want to take a backpack and a journal and GO. Go to strange places, do new things, meet people; see the world.

I have a choice to make. An intersection is on the horizon and I'm going to have to wait till I get there to see what color the lights are.

(dammit.)