I'm from a far away land called the Midwest. I took the military enlistment route out of town, and was stationed at another location in the Midwest for several more years. After the Air Force, I did the exact opposite - I went to art school. I hung out with the art kids, sketched hairy naked girls in drawing class and found my calling as a designer - gaining the confidence to escape the landlock (both physical and mental).

To decide where I wanted to move, I got a big map of the world. I closed my eyes and threw a dart at that map. The dart landed somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean. So I chose San Diego instead. I felt SD had room to grow, and room for me. Everything about it exuded positivity and a way of living I had never experienced before. 

WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO CALL SAN DIEGO HOME (BESIDES THE WEATHER)?

First of all - the rent. I love the challenge it presents every month. Will I, or won't I? Keeps me on my toes. 

Actually, the first time I had ever been to San Diego - and California, even - was the day I moved here in August of 2007. I packed my car full of the only possessions I was bringing with me, and as I drove west on the 8 into SD, I felt like I was entering a paradise. Turns out I was. When you stop referring to the town you grew up as "home," and start thinking of your current address as such - you know you've found your place. There's a certain newness about San Diego that I appreciate. We're still young, still hopeful, still growing. Still evolving. There are possibilities unseen. I relate to that, and I hope I always will.