I'd be tired from all the cleaning and remodeling and working and surviving, but I would not be worn out, not like people here, and people now. My friends, they get down and they get worn and they want to give in, but I wouldn't be like them anymore. I'd be free in my beautiful ruins.

      I've spoken of this pilgrimage to the west a few times, to a few people. A couple were a little on the surprised side, but I think that was because they were finding out they weren't alone. A few days ago, I asked one girl where she was thinking of going to college next year and she told me somewhere in California...she didn't know where. Her boyfriend might move with her. She's telling me this as she's doing her calculus homework, and not really paying attention to me. We're not close by any means, I really only talk to her while I'm working. I don't know that she's ever paid that much attention to anything I've said before, mostly because when working at a stress filled restaurant, like we do, I tend to just talk gibberish. Yes, that's right, I tend to talk gibberish.

      She told me about her plans to move, and I told her about how just a couple weeks before I had almost moved out there myself. She sat up in a hurry, forgot about the calc. I had the type of undivided attention that you can only usually get when you whisper, or when you show up at someone's house at five in the morning. She listened as I recounted the story.

      I almost moved to California a few weeks before. Just like that, I was ready to just start driving and go see what there was out there for me. My partner in this adventurous plan was too scared.