It's a dangerous business, stepping out your front door...

Once upon a time, some madness possessed me to move out to the West Coast. Today I'm flying back home to Michigan for a solid month of family, friends, shenanigans, and at least one inebriated revel (bringing my life total for events of drunken debauchery up to, oh, maybe 5). But I wouldn't want to leave those of you staying back west fretting over my pretty little head wondering what sort of trouble the resident Gryffindor was up to and whether or not it was time to rescue me, so I decided to set up this blog to keep you appraised of my movements in the next four glorious weeks of not-being-at-work. Also, this is just a hell of a lot easier than answering the same questions over and over again when I re-surface on Facebook for any length of time.

Speaking of which.

Be advised that while I am gone I will not answer my cell phone or answer texts, reason being that it is outrageously expensive and I am well on my way to thousands of dollars of student loans. So, y'know, don't text me. If you DO want to message me, get on Facebook messenger - as long as I'm in wifi it goes straight to my phone for free, just like a text. I'll also arrange to be on Skype from time to time.

Drea, just get a damned cell phone already.



So without further ado- and just because it will make my baes go squee-

The Road So Far

It's may be not such a bad thing that the cat ran away- I'm just glad that Drea victim-teered to feed the fish while I'm gone. I do shudder to think the hooliganism that might well ensue while I allow Drea, Nat and Addi the run of my apartment as the Hogwarts clubhouse (sans a Slytherin). I know that I'll be coming home to a lovely, safe space full of unbroken furniture, neatly stacked boardgames and not-ready-to-kill-me landlords. Right guys?

The only innocent face in this picture belongs to Ashten.

THINGS I ACCOMPLISHED BEFORE I LEFT

Student loan applications
Cleaning out the fridge
EI application
Washing all the dishes
School applications
Sweeping the floors
Laundry
Packing
Taking out ALL the garbage
Generally being a responsible adult


THINGS I DID NOT ACCOMPLISH BEFORE I LEFT

Eating the last of the watermelon in the fridge
Cleaning my room
Selling my car
Watering the only plant I own (but I've kept it alive since February, can we all be very impressed?)
Sorting out my work situation when I return from Michigan
Sorting out RRSP's
Discovering the meaning of life
Curing the common cold
Making the illusion that I am a generally responsible adult any sort of a concrete truth in my existence

Oh, and I left my night light in. Someone want to get that for me?

Michael was gracious enough to get up stupidly early to drive me to the Victoria airport at an ungodly early hour. I enjoyed my last delicious taste of true Canadiana- a Timmies run- before wading through security behind an estranged east indian couple and a rather large and obnoxious family of what were clearly vacation bound Americans, as evidenced by their gape mouthed awe of all things Canadian and general confusion regarding coinage. I was lucky enough to be seated on the small jumper plane next to a very friendly fellow by the name of Matthew MacAllister, who in a not so strange twist of fate happened to be a high school friend of Nat and Drea. We spent a pleasant hour chatting about basically everything and swore a blood bond of friendship before departing. That's a lie, I just added him on Facebook. But he really was lovely.

Everything went very smoothly from there until I suffered this tremendous and almost world shattering injury:

Also a lie. It wasn't world shattering. It did bleed profusely however, and a small host of well meaning elderly women searched their purses for a bandage. Through their kind concern I covered my affliction with a proffered band-aid, and was able to nap open mouthed and snoring for the remainder of the flight.

Might I just mention- Canadian airports offer no strings attached complimentary wifi. Screw you and your games, Chicago O'Hare. The place where I only get 20 friggin minutes...sigh.

However, look at all the people!

Does my little extrovert heart good. Ahh, humanity.

But, no trip home is complete without a maddening flight delay, and my 3 hour layover in Chicago is now a 6 hour layover. So now I am sitting, wrapping up my blog post at a charging station in Chi-town. I wish there was more to tell you; I wish there was more to say; I wish there were more words to say the things I can say in.

A philosophical thought before I go.

A man in a business suit, shoes newly shined, clothing immaculate, fine leather briefcase by his side. I pass him on my journey down the concourse. He is reading a James Patterson novel, also immaculate, probably brand new. It is a work of fiction set in a world that relates as closely as possible to our own, hardly fiction at all. The man seems unsmiling, the senior accountant sort, yet his book is nearly finished. Why would he trouble himself with a story? What is he seeking in a bit of literary trickery in the lives of people who never existed? What demons does he seek to exorcise vicariously through the bitter lives of embattled imaginary allies? Why do we need stories so very much?

Why do we make art?

Why do we question these things at all?

The universe WILL implode.

What else is there to do but sing it's songs as it does so?

18 hours of travel. Time to sleep.

More tomorrow!