Swimming In the Bay - Public Pools Just Don't Exist Here

I have a huge to do list since moving here. Getting a job, finding a place to live, making friends, discovering new things and conquering big hills. I'm wanting to accomplish this all in record time and I'm quickly realizing I'm going to have to slow down and be a little more patient. Fine.
One thing I wanted to do was find a new gym. On the scale of finding a gym and finding a job it's hard to say which carries more weight. A gym I decided takes lets effort so that wins.

My requirements I thought were simple. Clean. Yoga. Pool. Apparently you can't have all three of these in one place, in fact it doesn't seem like you can even get one in most. I was a little shocked. Everyone I met here so far works as a personal trainer and I'm not quite sure of where any of them works.

I looked first into the YMCA - but I remember from Chicago as well that this is not the neighborhood lets bring our community together type gym you would think. I know when I think YMCA I think run down kids playing a pick of game of basketball or swimming in a nice pool for free or near it. Having a membership at the Y is as expensive as many of the high end gyms, in some cases it's more expensive. I have no idea how they get away with this. And if you want to add classes like Yoga...it costs even more. So the Y you suck (until I am wealthy but am feigning being down to earth) and is off my list.

Which is sad because it's one of the few places with a pool. Pools are for some reason very hard to come by here.

I have to give a tiny nod to Chicago in that the public pools, meant for the general public are free, or for a very modest fee of $20 a season you have unlimited access to the pool in your neighborhood. The deal is amazing and where I swam at Gill Park - it was just more than ideal. When I looked into the public pools here I found that with a pass system of sorts it costs an alarming...$3.60 per swim. I know it sounds like I'm getting down on San Francisco, and that's just not so, I was just a little discouraged about pool options and I do love me some swimming.

This led me into looking into alternatives and this is when it dawned on me...the Bay. In Chicago I would swim in Lake Michigan and not much else in this world can be more gross or scary than that - currently there are reports of hemorrhaging fish with a fish strain of Ebola swimming around - doesn't get scarier. After some investigation I found a place where swimmers frequent not obviously called Aquatic Park. I saw so many swimmers in the Bay in this area it made me giddy. My first day I almost ran down the beach into the water. I calmed myself and started to look for an ideal spot to put my belongings (i.e. not around creepy tourists and while I want to believe that the homeless are all good and moral I didn't want to leave my things unattended by them either - and shush if I saw a troop of nuns I'd trust them even less). While looking for a spot I came upon a pier - the Hyde Street Pier. And I saw more swimmers entering here than anywhere. I saw that I could not get into this area. When I walked around to investigate I saw it was the Dolphin Swim Club (I had actually contacted them when I was doing my primary searches). I thought how good I can just drop by today (it was 93 degrees - very abnormally hot for this area). So drop by I did. I stooped down and walked under the pier onto their private beach. I was greeted by a lot of older men...mid 40s to mid 60s...maybe older because they were in good shape. All in speedos. The hairiest man I have ever seen approached me. I mean hairy doesn't describe it. It was as if he had covered his body in glue, shaved a couple dozen apes and rolled around in the discarded hair. In this age of evolution I don't even know how someone gets like that. I found myself staring at him looking to see if any small fish had gotten caught in his shoulder hair. This sounds so very rude, and he was so very kind spirited and funny so I apologize for that.

I asked him all very seriously "Hi, I just, I'm new here and I want to know where I go to get in the water."

He responded and justly "Where do you get in the water?! Any where."

I said "I just noticed a lot of people getting in here and I was curious about joining..."

"Well this here is our private beach and that there - he pointed to an older man - is our best swimmer. He's a veteran. Been swimming here 30 years."

And with that he walked away to check for sea life and shower - sorry...it was just out of hand.

I would so have a beer with him and ask him to braid it if he'd let me.


So I walked up to the veteran and became me and asked too many questions...

"Um, so is there a lot of sea life? Will a jelly fish eat and/or sting me? Is there a strong undertow meaning will I most likely drown..." He stared at me while I droned on standing hip deep in the water and he said "Look, you're young, you're healthy, what do you care about any of that. Put your goggles on and swim."


I thought, ok, he's right and I did just that. Starting my swim he stopped me and said "Hey, I'm swimming this route we do and you can join me if you want."


I didn't give it any thought and said "Ok."

Off we went. To the end of a large boat, to the left to a red sail boat, another left to a flag on a buoy to the left and back to the pier we came in from. About a mile. I loved every bit of it, when I thought about it I was terrified doing every bit of it.

I kept swallowing itty bits of salt water and I kept thinking of this documentary I saw about a group of sailors whose ship capsized in the ocean. Some of them became delirious with thirst and drank the salt water which drove them mad and wound up killing them. I kept thinking I would go mad and try to take up residence on a buoy no one would save me and I'd marry a sea lion or at least try to mate with one at some point. But no such thing happened. I made it back and my very kind and cool guide - John showed me around the Dolphin Swim Club.


It has a very old and earthy feel. No frills locker rooms that seemed like home.

They have rowing and kayaking and it's all very chill and I liked it. I swam there today as well and had another frightening and exhilarating experience. The one club member told me that the water has been nice - 62 degrees - but it gets down to around 47 or so and when I asked if I'd need a wetsuit he responded "Wet suits are for wienies." I think I may have to make a slight investment and be called a wienie, but I'm ok with that. We'll see how it goes. For the moment I'm going to get a little sappy and feel a little awesome by getting to maybe swim with a club with as many great people as the Dolphins.



http://www.dolphinclub.org/

First Run - The Hills

A big part of me being here is tackling the terrain. Living in Chicago the running is great, but it's also so very flat, which makes it kind of predictable? Although the intense swings in weather make it very challenging.
I'm excited to get out and try out the new ground so one of my first days here that is exactly what I did.

I thought that when I was running along the bay that the sea lion pictured above was a sea monster. I don't know why sea monster's aren't really in existence but they should be.

Sea monsters aside the hills here are rough and I think that makes me weak my underdeveloped Midwestern muscles...but I noticed something. No one walks here. I'm known to do a little walking and here I thought I'd see crowds of people walking and it's just not so. The city is so small and everyone takes the bus or drives. One population I do see walking about everywhere is the (and I apologize if this sounds rude? but it's just an observation) is the Asian population. They are walking all over this town and then there's me. I'm determined to own these hills; it's very likely that I'm the one that will get owned but if I don't give in I suspect my ass and thighs will thank me loads in the long run. And at the end of the day it's all about having a nice ass and slim thighs, or so I'm told. I will let you know as soon as I get a bus card or a scooter - they seem to be popular as well and I have so always wanted a scooter. It's very European and sexy which is what everyone wants to be. And if I stick with this walking I will be sexy and will then let you know what adult website I am posting my sexy pictures on - as I still need a job and this could be a way to earn some income.

Chinatown

First of all I do realize the picture to the left is a little disturbing but it's also so very morbidly curious. That's why I took it and that's why I'm talking just a little bit about it.

I was walking from the Financial District to North Beach and I decided to stroll through the heart of Chinatown. Now I know, I know it's going to seem culturally insensitive but it's not that. I'm a curious gal and this was curious. I'm walking along and am fascinated by all the shops. There's a Chinatown in Chicago but it's kind of out of the way so I never frequented it. Also in NYC the only thing I would do in Chinatown was scrounge around Canal street for cheap goods, which is such a fun thing to do. Knockoff Ray Bans for $5 is so amazing I don't know what else to say about it...

All that aside...I'm walking through Chinatown mesmerized by all the awesomeness; just dried goods and crazy herb shops - which all the shops in Chinatown that carry these goods smell like containers of dried fish flake food. This is what I've determined. I also determined because of a childhood incident this is why I won't live in Chinatown as the memory is utterly traumatizing.

When I was a youngster - about 4? We had a "family" fish tank. In which we kept exotic fish such as goldfish, guppies and .05 snails. High class, top of the line stuff. We even had a filter...I think? Any how while away at school for the day my little brother decided to deposit the entire contents of the fish flake food into the tank and the very intelligent goldfish gorged themselves to death and when we returned from the school day they were all found floating. It was sad and and hard lesson learned that goldfish are dumb pets.

OK - this is great and even more traumatizing. I just went to find a picture of a goldfish and came across the most informative site. Apparently my childhood fish were bloated and constipated and resting while they relieved themselves of too much gas and food. Being ignorant fish owners we flushed them so I just now found out we murdered perfectly good goldfish. A whole $.70 worth down the drain. I want to go back 24 years and scream "STOP - they are constipated and when the gas passes everything is going to be fine. They will compose themselves and never gorge again."

Goldfish are apparently not the dumbest pets. In fact I think if I over ate instead of hitting the gym to remedy the situation it would be desirable to play dead for three days while my bloating and guilt over stuffing myself silly subsided.

http://hubpages.com/hub/STOP-Your-Pet-Fish-May-Not-Be-Dead

My whole point was while living on Sheridan, my old Chicago street I was never so fortunate to see bloated piggies being unloaded into underground holding cells (I'm not sure where they were putting the pigs or what exactly they were going to do with them). I was privy to bar fights at all hours and a great cast of homeless people but you can get that anywhere so that's why I took the picture.

End of story, or that story.

Goodbye Focus - Hello Roommates

I returned the Focus and settled into my new living space. Which I would like to take a moment to be a bit sappy and say that my hosts - Lidia and Dapri - are truly amazing one of a kind people. I am still shaking my head wondering exactly when they are going to throw me out the window. Will it be while I'm sleeping? Will they change the locks? Move while I'm out? Until this day I am grateful that they are sharing their home with me. Wonder if in a few weeks I'll still use the word grateful? or if they'll still say things like "don't worry, take your time, it's not a problem..."

I feel like future posts will be titled "We All Want Each Other to Die." and "Keep a Quiet House: Infuse Soap with Sedatives."

Until then I say Thank you to them.

Public Storage

My first night in San Francisco I ate, drank, and passed out before I could let anything sink in, like I'm not on vacation, I'm making a home here.

When I woke the next day I had to return my rental car. I had grown an affection for it and was trying to find ways to buy it. I had walked down the street past an adult club that boasted "Amateur night $500 cash prize." I told the focus I'd find a way even if this had to be the way to be with it. I mean I had left my inhibitions and morals in Chicago anyhow as there was no room for them in my "mid-size" car.

Sadly, amateur night was on Monday and I only had till Saturday evening to make a decision about the car so to public storage I went to unload my things so I could return it.




Lidia (my hostess, my family while I'm here) accompanied me to help - as if she needed to help more than she all ready has. Crazy girl.

After many computer complications and some odd conversations with the PS manager we were given keys and a lock and my closet sized storage locker locale. I opened the door and was a little saddened to think I had reduced my life to a closet and a little liberated. I liked that Public Storage provided me a house warming gift so I wouldn't feel too bad about the whole thing; a packet of rodent repellent. The true comforts of home - seriously it reminded me of all my past Chicago apartment and I wanted to cry.

Packing all my stuff into my storage locker I thought it ridiculous some of the things that I had to have. For instance, I think it's a nice touch that I had to have my bowling pin (seen in picture lower left) from Southport Lanes. A great guy Ed helped me one drunken and very snowy night acquire this treasure. I had always planned on leaving it in on their doorstep with a note "Sorry I hope you didn't miss me, but I'm back!" but thought that was just dumb, not as dumb as borrowing a bowling pin dumb, but dumb.

I80 (Day 3) - California

I drove through the rest of Nevada in a blind fury. I determined if I was pulled over again for speeding I would take off running through the desert to start my true nomad life. Luckily I didn't have to do this and with the sun setting I rolled into California.

As it was Friday I was greeted with traffic which made me feel more at home than I had felt over the past few days to be honest. I reached the Bay Bridge shortly after 7:30pm pacific time and smiled through the fog and $4 toll.

I thought not bad. Not bad at all.

And so my life here started...kind of? I'll of course let you know.

Total Miles Driven: 2,770
Total Gas Charges: $307 and change
Total Car Rental Fee: $607 and change

I-80 (Day 3) - Nevada - (Leg 3)

Nevada was strange and beautiful in it's own way. I was digging the desert landscape. Short green shrubbery atop of sandy brown looking earth and mountains. After hours of driving with the sun beating on me I became quickly sick of it. There's a vastness there that wasn't anywhere else. All the other places I'd see a farm a cow, something to symbolize some sort of civilization - be it carnival people or farm hands were near...here it seemed that nothing stretched for 40 miles in every direction. Very cool and a little scary.

My best stop in Nevada was at the Flying J - a chain of sorts but there were slots. I'm not a gambler (I'm thinking of that awful song and that sucks - but he is a gambler in it...) but I put a dollar in the slot while waiting to pay for buffalo wing flavored snyder pretzels (these are great) and won $7. I felt with such luck I should venture into the real casino - which was through a glass door and around the corner from the gas station shop with the slots.

I wandered in and found my way to Wheel of Fortune - again I have no idea how to play so I put in a quarter and start pressing buttons. This apparently works because I'm gaining credits and am allowed to sit longer. A woman approaches me and I'm pressing button and asks "Girl, are you old enough to gamble?" I laugh at this a little but she's serious; I mean did my hello kitty t-shirt give me away? I told her "You got me. I skipped school today and drove to the middle of the desert to feed my quarter slot gambling addiction." When I handed her my ID she looked at me and it several times before saying "You just never know is all."

It's then that I surveyed the area. I saw people with vacant eyes slumped forward with packs of cigarettes or slouched backward and maneuvering their button pressing in a much more effective way than mine. All the men and women looked the same to me, like really bad strung out beaten up versions of Willie Nelson. I thought I didn't fit and cashed out ($3 dollars). I loved that the cashier was wearing an oxygen tank in the smoke filled room it added a certain charm you don't find in our smokeless cities anymore.

I had one more stop. When I exited the Flying J I saw something that I had not seen the whole trip down 80W until this point. A coffee house. An honest to gosh coffee house. It said "Bellas Espresso House." I couldn't believe it and immediately made my way there.


They made an amazing cup of coffee, an amazing sandwich, and they offered gentlemen services all under one roof. I think that's perfect. I almost asked (ok, I did ask but there were only hiring counter help...thinking what that might entail now that I'm thinking of it...) if there were any job openings because I couldn't foresee life getting better than that. I left all dreams of becoming a barista with benefits behind and continued on towards California...

I-80 (Day 3) - Utah (Leg 3)

Utah is a beautiful state even though I was in the uglier part of it. It smelled like rotten eggs. This is no joke. It was the oddest thing. And it's sad I mean I would be lovely if you could say "My home town, just smells like baked apples." When does that ever happen?

I woke and got on the road early. I wanted to stop at the Salt Flats and the Bonneville Speedway (Salt Flat where every year some land speed record or another is broken).

Stop 1. Salt Flats. It's so blindingly white. And I was so tempted to lick the ground to see how salty it really was. I was terrified of getting some odd bacteria and did not attempt any ground licking...although I hope to remedy this some day.

Stop 2. Bonneville Speedway. About 6 miles off of 80W. This was by far the most bizarre stop on my trip...well, almost.

It was strange. The 6 mile stretch from 80 to the "entrance" I saw trailers or mobile homes. And they were lined all along the highway on the salt flats. People had clothes drying and lawn chairs and grills set up. It looked like a carnival people's outpost to be honest. There were also tents set up all along the flats. They didn't look big enough to hold a dog let alone a person but there were several so I suspect there were very small people - (suspicion was confirmed by the amount of small 20s and 30s cars I saw being driven along the road as well - so small only miniature type people could be occupying them.). It really was surreal. I wanted to take pictures but thought they'd come after me with being "insensitive" for documenting the "odd freakishness" of the whole thing.

When I reached the end of this 6 mile stretch there was a small tent set up with orange cones around it (kind you'd buy at Walgreen's- serious). And there was a family: mom, dad, small boy - asking for $5 so you could park and/or drive around on the speedway.

I thought "is this legal? does the state of Utah sanction this?" I didn't care so much to ask so I parked before I reached them looked around and left. It was for sure strange and mildly interesting, but not $5 worth of interesting.

Pictured above was the pay "entrance" to the what? national park? Who knows. I do know Nevada was my next destination...

I-80 (Day 2) - Wyoming/SLC (Leg 2)

There's not much to say about Wyoming.

It's a beautiful state - I don't think it gets nearly enough credit.

I liked the windmill farms (By the way on the farm I saw one of those old metal windmills in the center of a field and I asked "Why are those out there anyhow?" and I was given a matter of fact dead pan "How else is the water supposed to get pumped to water the cows." Priceless and ingenious it's like getting through a lifetime without knowing that cows sleep lying down; until I was 17 I thought they did this standing... More love to the farm.) I know there is nothing majestic to them, but I want to buy a wind farm. In fact when I ever get around to interviewing and if asked my long term goals "Where do you see yourself in 5 years." I honestly have to reply "I see myself living on and running a wind farm getting by on government subsidies and maybe buying a cow or two."

No one ever says anything like that. We're all so lame "Well I think maybe I'd like to work on a challenging project, manage a team...blah."

Wind farms - I love them (an aside this MP shot was a little scary. A truker was pulled over along side me doing something strange with a hose.)

I have many more pictures of Wyoming but will leave them out here. I drove to my the most lovely bed in Salt Lake City, Utah...I wish I could have slept in that bed for days, it was divine...

I-80 (Day 2) - Nebraska (Leg 2)

After a lovely house welcoming I laid my head down and slipped into some sort of concious/unconcious state.
I woke to the smell of pancakes, sausage, coffee... I think heaven might smell similar.
I was asked if the coyotes kept me awake; having lived next to the "L" I think the quiet keeps me awake.
I could go on and on why this place, these people (Joyce and Del) were so amazing but I want to just highlight some key things.


First I was given a tour of town. I think town entails a mailbox, a flag pole, and a building that dispenses 50lb blocks of salt - which are used for something so awesome I can only describe it with pictures, and I will.
Del took me around in a pickup and we drove through fields (where I saw a badger and was given the craziest history I've heard about a woman who lived in the side of a hill and was given land in return - why this still doesn't happen upsets me - I'd live in a hill).



Del and I.

We drove around quite some time before we came upon these elusive cows but when we found them and delivered the salt the below occurred and it was awesome.








I can't convey how bad ass this was. I've never seen anything like it. I want to work as a farm hand.



After this I was dropped off at school. I got to spend time with Joyce's 3rd grade class. This consisted of 9 children. The 2nd grade class has 3 children. That's madness. Mark Prior and I took a picture as proof positive it was really so. These kids were very cool. They knew crazy farm stuff and asked me if I had ever seen a cow because I grew up in Chicago. I thought to get into Chicago's slaughterhouse history but thought better... although I have a feeling it would probably bother me more than them.


Before I left I went back to the farm to pick up my car and take one last look around, although I hope I can go back for a visit some day sooner than later.
>

I drove out around noon and wish I didn't have the rental car so I could have stayed the night.
Leaving at noon with an agenda of driving to Salt Lake City I decided open road open speed limit. The state of Nebraska doesn't agree with this train of thought.
Before the state line I was pulled over for driving 85 in a 75.
I'm not the crying type and I wish I was but I was too tired to bring the helpless girl act so I sat there as an upstanding officer told me "Mam, herrr in Nebrahska we enforce the speed laws through voluntary compliance. Mam, you will voluntary comply to drive the speed limit by me issuing you a citation."
I said "Officer, I'm having a bad life and this isn't a good time. This is a rental and I'm unemployed. Issuing me that citation means I will voluntarily lie in the middle of the highway."
He didn't think this was funny and said if I wasn't ok to drive it was my right to sit on the side of the highway for as long as I liked.
It's nice to know you have the right to sit any where in the wide open that you'd like for as long as you like.
A $119 citation and 20 minutes of sitting on the side of the highway later and I made my way towards Wyoming.

I-80 (Day 1) - Nebraska (Leg 1)

My first day I had a very specific goal. I wanted to make it to Hayes Center, NE. A friend from Chicago grew up on a farm there and with just one mention that I might be able to stay there on my journey had me sold.

I set my sights on the 808 mile, 13 hour drive.

Nebraska - is a long state. It is long and it is flat and boring. It did have a very cool sunset. A big red sun in a big open sky.

To get to the farm you have to veer off of I-80 about 50 miles south. In the wee hours of the night this was interesting. 110 mph was not fast enough and I had no idea I would encounter,turkey vultures (big carnivorous birds? at 12:30 am they were man eaters I was certain)that flew out from the side of the road and were the size of small sharp toothed children. That and families, correction, herds of deer that seemed to not be terrified of the turkey vultures that were feasting on their departed or my fast approaching headlights.

50 miles, a dirt road and a light in the distance later I found myself at the farm. The best place in all of Nebraska I am certain. I was met by Del and Joyce my hosts and I am convinced that I could be convinced to take up residence as hired farm help in their town...but that's a story for day 2.


(Turkey vultures not photographed - but they are there)

I-80 (Day 1) - Iowa (Leg 1)

I left at 11:30am, hopped on 55-South and quickly approached the I-80W exit. My journey was beginning. I had decided (before I knew I had Sirius Radio) that I would need some company and the only thing worthy (that I gave up my toaster to take along) was Mark Prior - the bobblehead ( I was told by a 6th grade CPS teacher this has a derogatory meaning - but I mean it in the he's a little plaster man with a wobbly cranium (i know you wanted me to say head - dirty minds)). There will be pictures of him where I could have none of me. I think that's a fair trade off.


Mark Prior did not take this photo I did. That's why you can't see me. I tried to drive safely and taking pictures of ones self while driving isn't the safest thing to do. Oh well.

Driving out I was sure would be uneventful, that is until I made my first stop for gas at the World's Largest Truck Stop.

It was nothing short of amazing. An amusement park for truckers. This concept is brilliant, it's the next best idea next to a mullet hair cut.

Of course there are pictures to document the 9th wonder of the world.

Gas at the Truck Stop was $3.739 per gallon and cost me $26.45 at this stop (for some reason this is a big source of curiousity what gas cost me - so it will be relayed throughout.)

I made one more stop for gas in Iowa. $3.439 and a total of $23.34.
That was Iowa. Not fun.

Journey down I-80 West - the Departure

I decided to take the most direct route from Chicago to San Francisco. That is I-80 West. There is no thought to it at all no maps no fuss. You drive until the highway ends which is the Bay Bridge in San Francisco on the western end.

My journey started on August 20th 2008 - Wednesday. I rented a car from Alamo car rental (one of only two (they are partnered with National) that do cross country rentals (i.e. you can drop the car off at your destination). I asked for a mid-sized car and when I went to pick it up the guy told me he would do me a favor and get me something that was a little bigger than a mid-size vehicle. I was very excited to hear this as I wondered how I would possibly fit a lifetime of possessions in a 4-door car. I had already eliminated so much, "Do I really need my cowboy hat? Can I possibly fit my hobo-cart in the trunk..." decisions like this made me feel like moving is not a thing anyone should ever do. I stayed strong and found myself looking at things saying: doesn't matter, who really needs it, and why did I ever own this? I was left with what I thought a reasonable collection of "necessities." And with my > mid-size rental I could maybe bring some extras like my couch.

You can't imagine my delight when I saw my rental was a Ford Focus (this wound up being a great car - it drove well, it got great gas mileage, and it was comfortable). I thought to myself well, then the compact car was surely a bicycle with basket and an economy was a golf cart. The Focus is not very roomy and this is an understatement. My father - usually a man of too many words only said "you're not going to fit a lot in that." My extras became things like my toothbrush and floss.

I had to eliminate things left and right from my well planned out pile of goods. No wall art, half my shoes, half my clothes, my collection of vibrators and assorted whips; and my beloved hobo cart...no way. I panicked and contemplated asking for a full sized SUV because in the wake of having to eliminate everything I thought if I can't take my whips I don't want to take anything.

In the end I made some hard choices - there will be plenty of vibrators and whips in San Francisco for purchase.

I look unhappy but it's only because 1. I had sweated so much from packing my car I couldn't sport my Mr. T tee for the ride - I pitied my sweaty pits. 2. I didn't yet discover the Focus had Sirius Radio - which I know I'm 10 years behind on this phenom, but it was seriously fun for me.

Favorite Stations -

Sirius 9 - The Pulse (so poppy, so good)

Sirius 18 - The Spectrum (again, gluttonous and awful)

Sirius 21 - Altnation

Sirius 26 - Left of Center (my favorite)

Sirius 198 - Playmate Station - this is more amusing than you can possibly imagine - or most of you can imagine. An hour of two former playmates interviewing a current playmate on her role in a new film:

"How was shooting?"

"It was such a hard day at work - I had to wear stripper shoes and a onesy for the whole shoot - for the WHOLE day."

Really, if my day started and ended with getting paid to hang out in a onesy I could honestly drop dead tomorrow and call it a life.

Leaving Chicago

Just one short week ago I decided to leave Chicago, my home, my heart. Sounds dramatic but it's the simplest way to put it. I've said to people that I lived in Chicago and it lived in me. Its a city but to me it was so much more, it was my life. I immersed myself in every facet of Chicago. I walked (many of you know what exactly me and walking entails - if its 10 miles or less it's walkable), breathed, and experienced everything Chicago had to offer and this is putting it lightly.
With a lot of reasons but no real good reason and I guess if you examine anything there never is a right reason to do anything; I left Chicago. I took with me what I could fit in my rental car and headed west to San Francisco. I picked up a book recommended to me and in it there was an inscription penned by Oscar Wilde:

"It's an odd thing, but anyone who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco. It must be a delightful city and possess all the attractions of the next world"

It seems a fitting quote to start this whole adventure; which I will lovingly chronicle for all of you who can't be here to share it with me. And you all know it's what you've always wanted from me. More pointless rambling. But at least you'll be up to date on all I do. I lived the most ridiculous life in Chicago and I can't imagine what's going to happen here...I can say that I'm excited and I look forward to the bad, the worse, and the worst.