Santa Cruz

Jay is in town for ZendCon, but on Sunday we had nothing to do. I suggested taking the long way to Santa Cruz, forgetting that he had been sitting all day. An hour and a half of white knuckle mountain roads later, we were at the beach. I really have to thank Jay for going with and patiently gripping the “oh shit” handle without complaint while I tried to drive us off of cliff after cliff.


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Nothing but static

I was listening to local station 89.7 KFJC and thinking about the midnight scenery strolling past my car windows. Hangar 1 at Moffett Field grew and shrank as a shadow. I had just dropped off Jay at his hotel — I’m just freshly Californian and already I’m the host. How long, I mused, until the things around me lose their newness, and my eyes relax their fervent attempts to catalog everything they perceive? Sign. Tree. Exit. Building. Sign. Tree. The radio was playing some out there hip hop based sound collages, and I wondered if I could call in and request Doomtree. I have the CD. I could just listen, but what if, I pondered, I could drag a little bit of my hometown out for someone else?

I turned on to Rengstorff and crested the overpass. “The Wren,” by Doomtree, came on the air. I got home. Engine off.

The car cooled and ticked arrhythmically, but I couldn’t hear over the song fading to a hissing hush.

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Norwegian Blue

Last night Donald Webster and Mary Ann Baik, who are married, but are not the Websters, came over so we could go get tacos at a local taqueria. Don texted me from his blackberry:

Coming over soon.

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Road Trip Part Two

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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Beach Blanket Jesse

On Friday, work took the day off to go to the beach. Since work is infested with hardcore cyclists, some of us chose to bike from Los Gatos to Santa Cruz. Since I enjoy cycling and am generally up for anything that won’t kill me, I jumped on the bandwagon and drove myself to Los Gatos with my bike wedged into the back seat.


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The Road Trip (part one)

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.


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My Apartment is Less Than Half Empty

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.

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First Far So Good

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.

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Internet in the Park

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.

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California Über Alles

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.

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