Last night I drove up to The City to attend a small event put together by Scott Beale, lead tentacle of Laughing Squid. I finally got to put my calling/business cards to proper use. I snagged two hours of fantastic conversation and went home feeling elated.
I awoke in Cody, Wyoming and asked some locals if my intended route to the north end of Yellowstone would be scenic and fun to drive. The hotel clerk responded in the affirmative, noting that he would sometimes drive the route just for a fun drive. I set out on 120, skipped onto 296, which climbed and fell to ludicrous extent before meeting 212, which would carry me through Cooke City (where I had a hot dog, met a fellow Minnesota expatriate, and mailed several post cards.
Here’s the view from Dead Indian Pass, which is a ways into 296.
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Day two broke across the Black Hills of South Dakota. I awoke and reloaded the car, eager to start the next leg of my journey: South Dakota to Yellowstone, or parts thereabout.
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Recently, I moved from Minnesota to California. You might already know this. You might also know that I drove my car and a load of my stuff myself. (the other four thousand pounds came via professional movers. Noah drew me a map, and drew a heart on the back of one of my hands and a smiley face on the other.
I called Radio K to request “Minneapolis” by that dog, but I didn’t get to hear it. So long, city.
I made it a point to call my mom and let her know where I was every time I stopped, and sometimes in between. I called the Keathlys, too. Sometimes I called and left messages on Sarah’s voicemail, even though it would be weeks before she would get back from Norway to hear them. The green fields of Minnesota gave way to golden South Dakota. I made it to the Badlands and called again.
“It’s beautiful here. I feel better,” I said. Both things were true.
Maybe that’s pessimistic — my apartment is half full: familiarity, but not family, arrived on a semi truck yesterday morning. The Websters came by to help me set up my television and stereo, but Donald’s headache got suddenly flattening, and after some time on the floor, he requested that I stop fooling with various bits of electronics and return to their apartment for video games — in this case Lego Star Wars: The Complete Sagas. I slipped back to my apartment after through warm night air.
The first day at a new company doesn’t usually mean much — just paperwork and access requests — so I am loathe to comment, but everyone whom I have met has been really nice and I feel like I could be doing real work yet this week — maybe tomorrow, if the truck with my stuff doesn’t suddenly show up and take up a whole day (I am hoping just a couple of hours, but who can say?).
Anyway, just as a side note, as I get settled in, you will probably hear very little about my job — that’s just how I roll. I’d rather tell you about shenanigans with the Websters (who are not the new Keathlys, but are an entity unto themselves who I would like to see interacting with the Keathlys for maximum superfun) or foosball with Bharat, or whatever SF shenannies I get into with Robert (if I ever get a hold of him).
P.S.: I played Beautiful Katamari on the Websters’ Xbox 360 tonight after we polished off the leftovers from the last time I was over, which was two days ago.
I called Noah just to say goodnight tonight, and he sounded like he was very nearly asleep when I called. If I ever get around to getting pictures uploaded, you will see that I framed and hung the last two pictures that he drew for me. They are just $3 clear plastic frames from Target, but still… I miss Noah and the Keathlys very much. For that matter, I keep wishing Sarah were here so I could show her how the sun is affecting my mood. Really, I want to show all my readers: California is spraying me with happy. Please come visit.
First things first: Google provides free WiFi in the city of Mountain View. I’m sitting at the Cal-Train station after having dinner on Castro Street here in Mountain View. It’s sunny, but I’m sitting in the shade and enjoying the breeze. Dinner was delicious, and added to the feeling of the last day of vacation before going back to work. I go to work tomorrow at 9:45 Pacific time.
Oh yeah, I have an apartment now.
Driving into California on I-80 last night I blasted the Dead Kennedys. Yes! I crashed with Chuck at his friend’s place in Mountain View, and boy howdy do I like the neighborhood. I’m at the other end of Castro at a Cafe slash Bakery because I wanted wifi. I have some apartments to drive by and call now, including the complex where my friends Don and Mary Ann are currently sleeping.
I had a wonderful drive from Rapid City, South Dakota to Cody, Wyoming today. I’m gonna go get a meaty steak and then probably upload photos and figure out my route post-Yellowstone.
When I learned to dive, or at least when I learned to fall into water from high places without injuring myself too greatly, there was a period of time where I would go to the edge of the diving board and stand there, shivering and dripping, not sure if I would be able to make my feet move to carry me in. The secret to diving is that it is just falling. You lean forward, whistle through the air, and want to do it again even before parting the water. California is the pool, and tonight I am climbing the ladder to a board suspended two thousand miles from my destination. Here’s to diving.
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