But I'm discontent. In came the city, the dog and the condo. Out went all of my creativity.I have a small, nagging feeling that most of my melodies and pretty words were born from my longing. And I'm not longing for too much anymore...except for more longing so that I can write a proper fucking Blues song.I was thrown into my Happily Ever After suddenly. It feels like it's been years since I left Sacramento, but it's only been months. And, while I still haven't worked out a solid list of things to miss about the city by the river, I'm jussst a bit worried that I might have left my pain right there on the dance floor in that little gay club with the racial slurs and the tears of the f*g hags.I don't have anything to bitch about. I mean, it won't stop me from trying to find something -- but I don't. My boyfriend's wonderful, my dog is cute, San Diego's sunny in October and most of the negative-energy friendships I acquired in Sacramento are gone for good, as are their ties to my enemies.I got what I wanted. And I always knew that I'd get what I wanted. But I didn't work out what to do when I got it.I know that I have so much more to do. Find a job, make new friends, put a band together, train this damn dog to stop lunging at cyclists. But my Blues were my motivation for action, and I don't have any Blues. Unless you count the No-Blues Blues, and you'd be a fool to.I know that I could take myself back to that place, if I really dug deep for it. But I don't want to re-live any of the shit I had to go through to get here. It hurt, yo. I don't want to be that Christian St. Croix again. Nor am I making any plans to fuck it up again out here in San Diego for the sake of my art. I've grown, despite myself. I have absolutely no interest in reviving the drunken mess who didn't know how to walk away. This guy now laughs in the face of gay scene racists, will decline to record with any shitty lesbian rock bands, and would knock a Twitter bully smooth out if he saw him in the street. I'm a bit stronger now, and I like it like that.But it's un-acceptable for my music and my writing to be the trade off. Something has to click inside these broad shoulders of mine soon. I'm not cut out for the "Housewife" genre, and I'm at my best when I'm surrounded by conflict and diversity. I'm going to have to get out there and immerse myself in something before I get bored. I've changed, but not enough that I'm a Buddha for the quiet life yet.So.I made it, I'm here, I got the man, the house and the dog.Now, what else is there?What would Cinderella do?I'll be damned if I don't find out.

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