There was nothing life-altering about our great American road trip. Well, except for Nebraska, of which I was oddly enamored, probably because as we drove West, the sun set, dripping everything with a rich gold, making the greens look olive and my heels itch to run through the miles of flat, honeyed plains. See? Totally in love with Nebraska. Wyoming was Hell's Mistress, though: even thinking of that portion of the drive makes my stomach sour.
Late into our second day of driving we decided to keep going through the night. Maybe if we had known how mountainous Utah was we would've changed our mind, because oh my god the area around Park City will forever be known as The Time Driving Down A Mountain Made Me Clench My Buttcheeks Together. As we descended into Salt Lake City, the sunset had put this liquid veil of orange over the whole city and a sliver of the lake; combined with all the lights of the city, it was one of the most magical things I've ever seen. Maybe even more magical than Nebraska. Poor L couldn't enjoy anything though, as his buttcheeks were still clenched. If any of you life near Salt Lake City, I'm thinking you must have the balls of Hulk to drive down those mountains in the winter.
I slept through most of Nevada, and all I remember thinking is, "What's with all the prisons?" and, "Why does every single sign need flashing neon?"
We got to California around 6 in the morning, and our new home state welcomed us with super expensive gas and construction so bad I got diarrhea. Really, what I learned most on this trip was there seemed to be a vein connecting road construction, and my butt.
We made it to Blythe's house by noon, and may I just stop here and say thank God and The Alter of Miley Cyrus for Blythe and her husband? I'm convinced there is no one more generous or kind than the both of them in the entire world. I'm sorry to the rest of my friends and loved ones, but I am 100% correct in telling you that if it weren't for them, I would've moved back to Madison 3 days later. These are the type of people you move across the country to spend more time with, people who have no real reason to go out of their way to help you so much, but do it anyway, and in the mean time make you laugh so hard you don't ever want to stop. Part of the reason I'm looking forward to going to church again (Story for another blog post!) is because I feel like I need a venue just to go and give thanks for all the amazing things people have done for us in our move. It's humbling.
Anyway, fast forward a week and we finally have an apartment. Getting a lease was stickier than we would've liked due to my unemployment, but it happened. Our new apartment is in Oakland, in a neighborhood which we love--Rockridge--and close to all the other cute neighborhoods, too. We live in a deco building, with hardwood floors and granite counter tops and we have an entryway! With a tray ceiling! And windows that look out onto palm trees, other weird Dr. Seuss pine trees, and someone elses pool. That part sucks, especially when it's hotter than Wyoming, and we have to listen to some lucky bastards swim all day long. But, we love it, and it's certainly better than the roach-infested hole I imagined California would give me.
Technically, I'm still unemployed, and that puts a major thorn in this California adventure. I've applied for over 35 jobs and have heard back only yesterday from my safety job, the same retail company I worked at in Madison. It's tough, guys; I can't tell you it has been easy on my self esteem or my relationship with L. So, while I feel bad about not exploring California more, it's because I'm inside all day writing cover letters.
There are bright spots, though: I got an internship in San Francisco at a prominent publishing house. I don't want to name names, but it's the publishing house that Dave Eggers started, he of the Staggering Genius and Where the Wild Things Are variety. I'm grateful to have a purpose outside of job hunting, and it's allowed to walk down the street thinking, "Hey. I work in San Francisco. I'M AWESOME."
Throughout this whole move I wanted to be writing. I didn't write, sadly, but I wanted to be. That in itself is huge, as I haven't felt that way since my early college days. I do something new every day here. Like, in an hour I'm meeting a stranger I found on Craigslist to walk around the lake. Saturday, L and I are going to the city to visit museums and attend a vegetarian food festival.
On paper, my life looks pretty amazing.