Oh California, it's always been too long.

This is a fantastically overdue entry. My California trip back-blogged. All of this happened the first ten days of October, 2010:

Within seven months I found myself in another chair in the sky. This time for a "vacation," though that description is lacking. It was a deliberation.

I returned to San Francisco for ten days to recenter and unwind or relax and smile. When I arrived on a Friday at Jeff G.P. / Will / Kendra's beautiful Mission District apartment I was met with mutual friend-guests Jefflar and Kalen. We immediately ventured out for gourmet ice cream.

The following weekend Kalen, Jeff, Spencer, Rob Little (not pictured!), and I appreciated a few acts at the "Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival" in Golden Gate Park. Jonathan Richman, Randy Newman, and Mondo Cane. None are considered bluegrass. We watched The Social Network and decided the movie was well made.

Monday saw last minute errands before a solo backpacking trip in Big Sur. I bought provisions, stove gas, and a pocket mirror (never used it). I zoned out and listened to music while enjoying the all-too-familiar California sun in Dolores Park. Jeff and I requested a craigslist rideshare to Santa Cruz and offered to pay for gas. A recent UCSC grad with a radioless Outback treated us to door-to-door service and a lot of (now novel) naive political positions. J&I visited The Food Bin, the ocean, and crashed at his parents place near Capitola.

Man, I love Santa Cruz. Tuesday we ate at Walnut Street Cafe (as usual, we knew our waiter, Josh, awesome), drove to Pacific Grove with Jeff's parents' Forester and picked up Fletcher. A few hours later we were hiking a fire trail in Big Sur

(this is a rad art installment by Fletcher) and wandering around a beach with purple sand (garnet deposits). We consumed some unsatisfactory expensive food and beer and then Fletcher was off again north. Jeff and I attended an Arcade Fire show at the Henry Miller Library. A surreal backyard party in the redwoods with approximately 300 other people.

This band sold out Madison Square Garden on two consecutive nights earlier the same tour.

I instructed Jeff to drop me at Fernwood Resort and leave. My plan was to stay in Big Sur for several days and just find a ride north. This was the closest I'd get to carefree and freewheeling while tethered to a fulltime job. It was 11pm, very dark, and the AF after-party with S.F. indie-psych band The Fresh and Onlys was about to get started in the Fernwood Lodge. However, sleeping was the priority at this point. I decided to immediately lose myself in the woods with my headlamp and find a soft spot to pitch my tent illegally (Fernwood charges $40 a campsite, offensive!).

In the morning I hitched-- note for aspiring hitchhikers, a cardboard sign reading your preferred destination is not just recommended, it's a requirement. Two Sharpies. Being hot/blonde is not necessary, giant backpack is a plus-- hitched a ride south to Esalen. Esalen is a retreat center for rich people who dabble in mysticism. Old friend (and Fletcher's life-companion) Noel had spent the better part of a year farming and working at Esalen in trade for room and board. It was Wednesday and Noel was on a day-long silent meditation. I spent my time circumambulating the different environments and concentrating on different sounds.

The place reminded me of that video game Myst (when presented with this comparison, Noel's eyes widened, FIND THE RED PAGES).

Noel ended her meditation in time to hang out for a few hours in the evening. She drove me to South Coast, a renovated motel for Ensalen employees and interns. I pitched my nylon house in the backyard.

No photos of Noel so here's one of Fletcher's (same week even!). Noel and I still have a lot in common. Actually, I find myself having similar conversations with almost everyone in their late-20s. Mostly about what the life-plan is or if it's necessary to have a life-plan... and is that a path to happiness? and The Internet and slipping into adulthood. "I've been out of college as long as I was in, and no one cares whether or not I wake up in the morning." Grad school? It's been a year since I was in Nepal. Angst.

The next morning Noel was already on the farm and her house-mate and her house-mate's guest served me grapes and coffee with stevia. They left. I packed and thumbed it to the ranger station to find the Pine Ridge trailhead. After 10 miles and 5 hours of beautiful forest watching I dropped my backpack and found some naked lesbians behind a curtain of evergreens in the sparrow's nest-esque pools of Sykes Hot Springs. Incredible!

The hours and days melted together while I listened to the river near my tent. The river. Across the river a woman was solo camping atop a knoll basked in sunlight. She introduced herself over the rapids, her name is Kyra. I don't have a photo of her but I'm not so sure she'd show up in photos anyway. Her tent is little yellow dot above mine in the picture above.

On Friday (I guess?) I found Kyra in one of the sparrow's nests. Turns out she was in the middle of an important annual vision quest (she's half Native American) and was fasting for 4 days in the woods. She was chilled out. We spoke of urban culture and healthcare and horror stories and otherwise tried to move each other emotionally. Eventually, I decided it was time to head back to the highway, find camp, and hitch a ride north in the morning. It could take a few days to get back to San Francisco. Kyra responded with: if I see you out there, I'll pick you up! To which I said in passing: Seriously? Because I'll just walk out with you tomorrow and get a ride from the parking lot (she lives in the Bay Area). She thought that was a great idea.

In the end I left earlier and walked alone while Kyra took one last dip in the hot springs. I relaxed near a visitor's center and watched the sun dip below the redwoods. Kyra pulled up in her Impreza (literally every car I had been in on this trip was a Subaru), rolled down the window, and asked (all smiles) if I needed a ride. She had changed and put makeup on. She looked completely different. Her fast ended when she walked out of the woods, she was eager to find dinner at one of the busy resorts (filled with liberal elite from Carmel and Monterey) and we did and we ate and we drank. She drove me to the BART that night, I handed her a small bouquet of wildflowers from the trail, she was speechless.

The BART brought me back to the Mission in San Francisco. People! Concrete! Ego! I hunted down Will at an especially hyped party (with El Guincho) that he was throwing at Elbo Room and grabbed his keys. I fell asleep on his couch immediately.

On Sunday, (i can remember it being Sunday) Jeff and I sought out brunch and ran into Anthony, a man found in a colorful Venn diagram element of friend circles. We ventured out to Rainbow Grocery to buy supplies for J.W.K.'s

backyard BBQ bonanza happening later that day. Stewart's Ginger Ale. Santa Cruz Apple Juice. Beer. Squid (what?). Dogs. Burgers.

On Monday I returned to Brooklyn. But not before jumping in Will's Forester (I'm not kidding) and visiting a beached BLUE FUCKING WHALE WHAT? in Pescadero and Phipps Farm where we met some birds and a banana slug.

That night I flew a redeye to my inconsequential office job in Manhattan.

Here is the whole Flickr set.

Brooklyn Is Not Without Confusion And Undetermined Dreams

I am part owner of two couches in Brooklyn. Eric's welcome-home gift was a Cheez-It surprise (this delicacy was devised by my sisters and I during a game of "restaurant" in the kitchen when I was 7 or 8. Here's the secret recipe: take two Oreos, put them in a bowl. Cover with Cheez-Its). I had yet to move into my old room. Nobody put any art up while I was gone. The day after my arrival I recovered a bag of superfluous possessions I lugged around throughout the summer. Extra clothes, tight jeans, a turquoise hoodie. My laptop also lay dormant in the very same gray leather luggage. I was excited to see my own computer again. Excited ... own ... again ...

Suddenly, after I had turned the thing on, checked my e-mail and read a few blog posts, I was struck in the back of my brain with a dreadful feeling that was all too recognizable. A feeling I instantly regretted I provoked. It was an inkling of lethargy combined with uselessness and sadness. Boredom. I hadn't felt like this for months! The Internet was free to use and I could do anything my heart desired with my own computer. No imposition. Nothing to do. And I find it only slightly coincidental that I was watching Groundhog Day (on Groundhog Day) and thinking about Alan Watts.

ARE WE ALL DREAMING?! Anyway, I'll keep the clichéd exposition of the unimportance (ill-importance) of possessions to a minimum. We all know that stuff does not equal satisfaction. End of exposition. I am now settled down back in Brooklyn trying to decide what to dump all my energy into. How many disciplines can I perform simultaneously? Music, movies, screen-printing, volunteering?

Smoking has stopped though I'm always bumming in social situations. I've painted my room greens and yellows. It looks like a forest at dawn with prayer flags and pine boughs. Zipcar has hired me back though I'm still on-call (I only worked one day last week... not looking forward to the gap in income). There have been two snow storms yet it was 60° today. Here's my housemate Jessica outside our house during the second storm:


I worked briefly on friend Laura's independent for-real-with-a-budget short called "Hunting". This crew is huge:


Eric moved out of our apartment, this is us taking a Chinese food break while moving his and Sarah's things:


I attended my nephew Lucas's first birthday in Massachusetts (pictures please! link in the comments), saw the family and some friends, and returned to Brooklyn with a cargo van filled with all my belongings. I suddenly regret not backpacking longer... though strangely, I had the opposite emotion during much of my trip. I anticipated coming home. I can't wait to leave again!

It's interesting that the phrase "culture shock" can embody so feelings.

The movie I am in that was shot with a few friends over the summer (Most of My Memoirs Are Plagiarized (title image sorta)) will be premiering in New York on the 20th! Here's a trailer:



And here's a list of albums I've acquired since reacquiring my computer (after listening to Pitchfork's Top 100 Tracks of 2009:

Joanna Newsom (came out in 2010, not on pforks 09 list but will be on 10's)
Album is not available streaming anywhere on the Internet but trust me it's epic and incredible.
Here's one track.
Good Intentions Paving Company

And here she is last Friday on Fallon:


Sleigh Bells
While I was away this band formed, exploded and is already playing shows out of my price range.
Sleigh Bells - "Ring Ring" (MP3)
Sleigh Bells - "Crown On The Ground" (MP3)
Sleigh Bells - "Beach Girls" (MP3)
Sleigh Bells - "Infinity Guitars" (MP3)

[EDIT: Lala.com was bought and destroyed by Apple Inc. you now only get a list:]

Lightning Bolt - Earthy Delights

The Flaming Lips - Embryonic

Raekwon - Only Built for Cuban Linx II

The Big Pink - A Brief History of Love

Fuck Buttons - Tarot Sport

Atlas Sound - Logos

Yeasayer - Odd Blood

Hot Chip - One Life Stand

Röyksopp - Junior

Animal Collective - Fall Be Kind

Lady Gaga - Fame Monster

The Knife - Tomorrow, In A Year

Passion Pit - Manners

Crayon Angel: A Tribute To The Music Of Judee Sill
Jesus was a cross maker is especially good (though the original is s[t]ill better)

California to the end

I'm over a week late on this one.

Upon arriving in CA the "adventure" had turned toward "vacation." I rode with Zach to Los Angeles. He happened to have recently returned from Nepal as well (!) (and several other countries) as a bike tourist (he rode his bike with his girlfriend everywhere). We spoke of Thamel and Pokhara and altitude sickness. He asked only $20 for gas money, a kind gesture. His ride was an '86 VW Westvilla, not so great with the gas mileage. He was just looking for someone to hang out with on the road west, his destination was Santa Cruz. We had a lot to talk about.

I arrived at Kalen

's house in the evening on Thursday the 14th. and dropped my bag on his futon thus ending the trek through the southwest. My attitude changed instantly. I was with a friend that would let me crash in his studio apartment for a month if I had reason to. The rest of January was relaxing. The rest of January was luxurious.

I arrived on the newly coined "classy movie" night where either Kalen, Noelia, or Daphne decide on an upscale/probably period picture from Kalen's immense collection of DVDs and drink classy cocktails. So, moments after I arrived I found myself grabbing some In-And-Out (where we saw Orson Welles) and watched The Earrings of Madame de... Then I was introduced to Jersey Shore (TiVo'd), the most important reality television phenomenon since COPS.

My 11 days in L.A - Here's a summary, prefaced by the movie I watched that day.

Day 1, mentioned above, was Madame de... but
Day 2 was a little more serious. A double feature, commissioned by Stuart Gordon (he made Re-Animator), of Nightmare Alley and a bizarre Burt Lancaster picture The Swimmer. Later that evening Kalen and I attended a show at Spaceland where our old friend Justin was playing in his new band Night Horse.

Day 3: The original Heartbreak Kid (1973 and it's really great); True Grit, the only western John Wayne won an Oscar for (and the Coen Brothers are remaking it with Jeff Bridges... that. will. be. great.); and A.I., Kubrick's last movie that Spielberg directed, it's incredibly underrated and easily one of the best films of the aughts.
Day 4: Dumbo at the El Capitan (Disney's) theater on Hollywood Blvd. One of the trashiest streets in America.

Day 5: Malpertuis, a really weird movie starring Orson Welles from a bed.
Day 6: F for Fake, another Orson Welles movie thats reeeeaaallly clever. Kalen also hosted a little arcade party:



Day 7: James Franco Destroys a Room and Kalen and I dropped a sick hip-hop track that you can't listen to and was a birthday present for Daphne.
Day 8: Classy movie night again! The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond, a terrible new movie that we knew was going to be terrible but was worse than that. Starring a terrible Bryce Dallas Howard spewing a terrible script that is shot, edited, and directed terribly. We got loaded on Lynchburg Lemonades. Earlier I visited Jon Stern (producer of many things David Wain and my employer for many years) on the set of Children's Hospital. Stern moved to L.A. from Brooklyn...
Day 9: Don Hertzfeldt shorts Everything Will Be Okay and I'm So Proud Of You. I also visited old friend Chris Ustaszewski at the Universal Back lot (I was on the lot shortly before Conan's last show), we took a tour of some the attractions:



and we sneaked into the prop house.

Day 10: No movies... Kalen and I killed time waiting for Ben Stiller to leave The Station set so I could visit David (Wain) while he was directing (it's a pilot for Fox). Noelia and Daphne, coincidentally, were also involved with that project. Later, Kalen and I visited Jason Woods (who has a rad job) and went to a Daphne's birthday party at a bar on Sunset Blvd. (not my scene...)
Day 11: Off to San Francisco!

San Francisco was pleasant. It's my second favorite town and a place I wouldn't mind living in. Lots of neat restaurants and bars and specialty ice cream. I did even less in SF than in LA. Here are the highlights:

Stayed with Fletcher
and Sean Smith

at their place across the street from Dolores Park.

Trivial Pursuit is a favorite board game amongst friends. The boards that I have been playing are even more difficult given that they're from the early '80s. It becomes competitive. Catchphrase and Settlers of Catan and Apples to Apples are also a lot of fun.

Jeff G.P. moved to San Francisco. He arrived

a few days after I did, he lived down the street from me for the past 4 years in Brooklyn. We went to see a show at Amnesia (neat bar, lots of coke heads in the bathroom) and saw a band named Bronze, they were okay! Here's Jeff at home:

Motorcycle driving is something I did in college and again when I had access to my old bike at Dad's luxury condo atop Casto Hill (newly coined The High Castle). Title image is the view from The High Castle at night.

The Sutro Baths (title image) is this old pool complex that burned down in 1966. The ruins are still around. Kalen, Sean Smith, Fletcher and I checked it out at sunset (sunset+Pacific ocean is... incredible).
The morning I left for Brooklyn Fletcher and I returned at dawn to accomplish an art project:


This image will be used for Fletcher's (bird by snow) EP Mystery School. That afternoon I boarded a plane heading to New York City. I'm in Brooklyn now... feeling old.

Phoenix is okay, not as cool as a flaming bird.

Ian and I arrived in Phoenix from Tucson pretty late in the evening on Monday but that didn't stop us from grabbing a show of Sherlock Holmes at the Tempe Marketplace. Sherlock Holmes was okay. Entertaining. I eventually passed out on Ian's futon only to awake to Ian on the phone with his girlfriend at 2:30am. She had just won a singing competition in Hawaii! It was a long night. The next morning Ian drove me to the light-rail in Tempe (college/yuppy suburb of Phoenix) and I rode into Downtown (presuming Downtown was the area filled with big buildings). I found a Starbucks. There is NOTHING to do in the big-building part of Phoenix.

I headed over to the public library to use the Internet and eventually took the light-rail up to Camelback St. to find a BestBuy and buy a new phone charger (the first item I have misplaced on my entire trip). Tanya, hopefully, will send my other charger back to Brooklyn so I'll be able to return the superfluous charger ("renting" from BestBuy). I ate some fish tacos at Two Hippies taco stand and the clerk there, Ben, was really fascinated with my travels (I had my backpack with me, people come out of the woodwork to talk to you when you're dirty and carrying around a giant backpack) and invited me over to his place later on that night.

I met David outside BestBuy.


David is a member of couchsurfing.org, a non-profit "project" that links people who need a place to crash with people who have places to crash. At first glance you might think that such a website is creepy but lo! there is a rigorous screening and verification process (it is voluntary, and the site is free, but if you want anyone to take you seriously you have to be verified). In order to verify your identity you have to donate $25 and they crosscheck your user profile with the financial institution that you're donating with (clever!). In order to verify your location they send a postcard with a unique number code that you punch into a form online (also clever!). Furthermore, there are references and vouches and other things that sort of turn people into on products on Amazon (this analogy is a fault of my own). In my case I used this blog as a verification process. It's amazing how instrumental this thing has been in proving that I am a normal human. I'd recommend publishing a travel blog to anyone. Literally anyone. Anytime. At dinner. Anytime.

David is an attorney (preferably in the environmental sector but right now he takes what he can get) and a private investigator in Phoenix and lives in a pretty posh suburban neighborhood. He drives a Jaguar and offered me a guest-room and an inflatable mattress. We went out for pizza and watched The Watchmen on Blu-ray. I hadn't seen it. It's okay. It's entertaining. David told me that there isn't a whole lot to do in Phoenix except outdoor activities (Jamie claims he is a liar) and suggested I climb Squaw Peak, a mountain less than 3 miles away from his house and a trail less than 2 miles to the top. Did that, it was fun. Got some exercise, you know? Here are a few photos from the top:


That sun was pretty brutal. The rest of the day consisted of public library email checking and team trivia at a sports bar with a few of David's friends (their usual team name (this is a weekly event) is "That's What She Said" or TWSS). We had a perfect score until the final (jeopordy-esque) question where we wagered 0. David told me he wouldn't be around the following evening and I assured him that I was planning on finding another "couch" anyway. The next morning (this is, uh, Wednesday at this point) I watched Frost/Nixon on the flat-screen and found it to be... fine. You know. (Entertaining). Bizarrely, David came back from work for a moment at exactly the same time Jamie (another CS.org instant-friend) arrived to pick me up.

Jamie is 21 and graduated from ASU early and is heading to Australia next month for a 3 week backpacking trip. Jamie has a lot of nice things and is wonderfully aware of the hip 20-something crowd and their hangout spots. First, we rode over to -French Place- and ate a great lunch (Guacamole BLT and an Iced Havana Latte) then over to Lux for some tea and then the Downtown (for real Downtown) art district. Let's talk about it:

Here's Jamie and a few adobe tract houses in the background. Those houses are actually establishments such as bars, restaurants, boutiques (i.e. "Made" in Phoenix), and art galleries. The whole area (approximately a 3 or 4 block radius) is made up of normal houses like these,

with yards and mailboxes and fences but also with bike racks and goofy shit hanging off of gutters and branded door windows. This area of town is awesome. We headed over to the urban market and bought apples and checked out the weekly farmer's market (coincidence!).


Jamie mentioned Wednesday afternoons meant free admission to the Phoenix Museum of Art. The obvious next stop. The museum was quite nice with an eclectic collection (am I sounding pretentious yet?) and included this really rad mirrored darkroom fashioned with slowly-changing LEDs giving the whole environment a trippy, disorienting outer-space (outer-space is disorienting) quality.

That night I ate Thai food (dry, expensive) and crashed on Jamie's couch (dry, expensive). Here's what the outside of her condo sort of looks like:

Jamie left to go support a friend through a breakup and ended up staying at her place. I had a ride scheduled for that evening which turned into night and then into early morning. The dude driving was an obvious flake; I could tell over the phone. He said he planned to arrive in L.A. by 10pm and he was coming from Denver (after leaving that morning... there is no way he was going to making it to L.A. at a decent hour). He calls from the road 300 miles outside of Flagstaff at 6pm which means he'd reach Phoenix at around 12:30am at the earliest. Then he wanted to long-haul it to L.A.? ... a five.5 hour drive. Then, get this, he calls at 10pm and admits he was never actually planning on going to L.A. and that he was wondering if I could take a train from San Bernardino at 6am after driving all night. I decided to pass on that ride and solidify a contingency, Zach, driving a VW Westfelia to Santa Cruz up the coast and leaving on Thursday afternoon. Well, that story was boring, right? Then I found $20 and stabbed someone.

Thursday morning I woke up, packed, and texted Jamie asking the whereabouts of the nearest coffee shop. She responded with an intersection and instructions involving a key under the mat (that was the extent of the instructions). It's amazing to me that these strangers on couchsurfing.org just blindly trust other members. It's great! I ate breakfast at Matt's Big Breakfast (delicious!) and listened to music until Zach texted informing me of his eminent arrival. I said bye to Jamie and told her to find me in Brooklyn. Zach arrived in his VW. This is where we went:

So, Brian pulls up in a royal blue short-school-bus...

So, Brian pulls up in a royal blue short-school-bus that he has converted into a camper. He says, "Hey I'm Brian," we shake hands, "climb on in." I meet Carla inside, she says, "Oh, you're not gonna kill us!" and laughs like a perpetual stoner. Carla loves Ron Paul and doesn't believe in any modern science. There's a sink (with hot water) a stove and oven, some cabinets and a lofted bed. Nice digs. B&C are from PA originally and are heading to the west coast for better prospects (and fleeing from past addictions and dark relationships) they plan to live in the short-bus in Portland but their first big stop is in San Diego. There they'll find some flea markets and sell some of the junk they have on board.

Brian was determined to get out of Texas on the night we left Austin. Fine, I drove the short-bus for a few hours and then passed out on the bed (really comfortable). When I awoke we were 2/3 through New Mexico and it was about 5am. We all slept (me this time in the reclining passenger chair) until around 8am when it was my turn to drive again. UNINTERESTING VIDEO:



Drafting is a must.

Next planned reststop was Tucson, not a difficult objective. Brian had an old friend from home there, Tanya. She runs a hostel.


(Hostel is the building on the right, NICE RIGHT?) Tanya is pretty rad, she's really used to people passing through and has that sweet (brutal) east-coast attitude. She showed us around downtown that afternoon.

First, we visited a squat not 3 doors down from the hostel where a man named Fox had just put the finishing touches on a new wood-fired sauna in the backyard (legit) along with a wood-fired hot-tub

and an air-conditioned bike workshop


and a chicken coop (not air-conditioned). Fox (middle) and Chris (some dude) and Brian all played bluegrass


for a while as I scoped out the ride-share and couchsurfing availability. I have a great video of the bluegrass but it never seems to upload properly. Look for it later. Later, we ate a Brooklyn Pizza Company (yeah) and drank some drinks

and bitched about the football game and why it was on and how nobody cared about it. And that evening Tanya escorted us to a sculpture studio-complex a few blocks away filled with a bunch of crazy artwork and I played a game of chess against Brian. We started drinking Tecate.

Tanya heard word of a bonfire party just outside of town and voluntells Carla to act as designated driver. Carla doesn't care. Great. The bonfire party turned out to be a campfire (this, I find, is a common misconception) with about 7 people, the host of which is that artist who built a pin-hole camera constructed with pieces of the Bible, Torah, Qur'an, and a piece of the World Trade Center. Great for him, right? Tanya and Brian lose interest in the group and we bail. We sleep on mattresses laid out in Tanya's apartment on the 3rd floor of the hostel (nice).

The following morning B&C&I eat waffles and coffee for free at the hostel. YES WAFFLES! And I realize I'd like to stick around a little longer. Tucson was great! It reminded me of Santa Cruz and Portland and Portsmouth. Plus, it seemed too easy to get this far, why not stretch it out? Road less traveled or whatever. I had tentatively scheduled a week to get across the southwest and it was looking like a 3 day trip and I really hadn't seen any of it! And unfortunately most importantly, the short-bus gets an average of 10MPG. I ended up paying out Brian a cool $75 to get to Tucson and that was a third of the gas cost! Youch! There goes my wallet! Right? So, I said goodbye to B&C and wished them luck on their journey.


BYE GUYS

Then I met Ian! Ian was staying at the same hostel and was on a weekend trip visiting from Phoenix (my new next destination). I met him briefly during the aforementioned waffles and then again after I packed my bag and stored it. I asked him what he was up to and he said nothing. Well, he said, "I'm not up to anything" ... It's not like he just stood there silently watching me. You're crazy. And we walked around together for the entire day. We visited The Loft cinema which took several hours to walk to and was not really worth it and then bussed it back to 4th St. and ate pizza at Brooklyn Pizza again (yep). I spotted a shop named Everest Something-or-something with a bunch of Buddhist prayer flags and I decided to go check it out. A Mexican woman was behind the register and basically gave me the "oh god, not another one of these assholes" look when I said "Namaste!" To her. I don't blame her.


Ian and I traded story ideas (he's a writer) and eventually invited me to ride with him to Phoenix and crash at his place. I obliged. I thought for sure I was going to stay in Tucson a little longer (I even organized a place to stay using couchsurfing.org) but Ian insisted that I ride for free ("I'm going that way anyway!") and he seemed like an okay guy. Maybe a few short-circuits and a little aspergery (his word) but nothing nefarious. I grabbed my bag from the hostel (forgot my phone charger) and jumped in Ian's Ford Focus. We listened to music and I listened to Ian's exaggerated stories of girls and travels. The sunsets in Arizona are spectacular!