Now I live in San Francisco

It has been an interesting past two weeks, with my final week in Boston being a mixed bag. I was having moodswings that would rival the menopausal. I didn't realize how hard it was going to be to leave behind the amazing group of people I had come to know and love. After a couple back to back nights of trying to go out with friends and saying goodbyes I realized how lucky I have been, and how "whats behind door number two" is always a risk no matter how good it looks in theory. Now I'm planted in Bella's attic in Oakland until I get a place, and couldn't be more stoked. She definitely laid out the red carpet and a million thanks are due. First and foremost, if you need to do a cross country move, make sure there are good people like Brad on the receiving end. Here's a little recap...

I was officially on the road the afternoon of December 1st. It might have taken yet another day if I didn't have the good friend who took a week out of her life to keep me focused/distracted. Our first stop was rolling in to whoknowswhere upstate new york at "america's best motel" which smelled like shit. Seriously. Had I followed the advice of the bird riding shotgun, the whole thing could have been avoided. I think the bed had some type of mites, cuz it was itching all night, and every time I would wake up, it was to the smell of shit. Lesson learned. Next day, driving through Cleveland proved to be ugly and depressing. In the evening we hit Chicago and stayed at Joanna's. She made pierogi and we all went out and drank many rounds of $1.25 drafts (in frosty mugs) at the 2-way lounge. Next day, lots of driving with nothing interesting and then a motel outside of Omaha which seemed like the ritz carlton when compared to the one two nights prior. Took a small detour to Denver and was met by the welcoming arms of Taylor and Kendyl, who I had missed earlier this summer when we did round one of this drive. They took us out to Watercourse for some vegan country fried steak and potatoes, and showed us the town. Next day, drove straight to Salt Lake and ate at Shanghai Cafe with the Moms and Sister. Hung out with Richard and Morgan for a second and played some atari. It was awesome falling asleep by the fireplace, and waking up to homemade cinnamon rolls! This is why moms will always win in the end. The next day was supposed to be the long haul to SF, but got interrupted by a snow storm near lake Tahoe. Lacking chains for the uhaul, (and not wanting to spend over 100 bucks to get 'em) we turned back to Reno and stayed at the Sands casino. Woke up on my 28th birthday to snowy skies. I got out of the shower to find a mexican man with a rattail delivering a piece of pumpkin pie with a candle in it, and an entire box of coffee just so Justyna could make the room service minimum! What a sweetheart. An accident on I-80 meant we were going nowhere fast. Pulled over before Truckee, and killed some time with a drawn out brunch and some video poker. Luckily things cleared up just in time for our second attempt at the summit, and we made it to SF just after sundown. Tired but excited, we met Jay and Jacqs for tapas at Ramblas, then saw Boombip at the Elbo room. All in all, a good birthday and a welcome end from the uhauling.

A couple consistents within the trip: the uhaul was so loud that conversation suffered both in the cab, and on the phone. The back of the uhaul had the most ill though out mural painted so we were constantly getting brighted by people on the interstate, and we were flagged down twice. (once by a cowboy.) fuck you uhaul. add to this the raping cost of gas (1200 to propel the sacajawea emblazoned piece of shit) I hope to god that the beauty that counts really is on the inside, because gas station attendants across middle america are some fucked up looking individuals.

Spent the first night in SF at Justyna's place, then the next day unloaded all of my shit into a storage unit with Brad's kind help and tolerance. (yes I brought 5 eames chairs, 7 bicycles, and 3 motorcycle helmets with me...) Later that night we ate Ethiopian food, and got a drink at a dive bar where I met "the roadie" Pete who was having his 50th birthday. It was told to me that he was the first roadie for the subhumans, which makes him practically punk rock royalty. After finding out where I had been living, he immediately started up an intoxicated sermon about how boston was actually where the English won over the americans. I was advised to avoid all conversation about soccer. I spent that night on Leah's couch after tea and cookies. The past two days I have sold some clothes at a consignment shop, biked around SF and Oakland a bit, met up with Faith for a couple beers at cassanova, met my downstairs dfl neighbors Dave and Lisa, and have seen more vagrants and junkies than the past 5 years in Boston combined.

There were many people I missed before leaving, and didn't spend nearly enough time with those dearest to me. Please come visit when I find an overpriced place to live. On my list for this week is selling more of my shit off, getting my r80 some california plates, enjoying the warm weather, and trying to find living and working situations. I saw this blind guy doing a rubik's cube and at first found it funny, then sad: