Day 1 of 33 (Part 1)

Hello friends and family. For those of you interested in my life on the left coast, I will try and update this with interesting accounts of what's going on. Of course, you could always call me.

Today got off to a pretty rocky start.
I woke up at 3am after what was basically a short nap (layered on top of a long weekend of the aptly named "Sleep No More") and I headed out. I had a very specific schedule for how to catch each part of public transportation, from the PATH to a bus to the plane, as I was hoping to save money.

Nothing could be that easy. As soon as I descended the steps I discovered that the handle to my 56 lb rolling suitcase was broken and would not extend. I stumbled down the street, tugging on the suitcase which in turn smashed against the back of my knees. What was normally a 7-8 minute walk turned into 20 minutes. Fortunately, I gave myself plenty of time and I got to the PATH station with 4 minutes to spare.

I took the elevator down and rushed through the handicapped gate with my large suitcase, only to discover the doors for the train on my side of the tracks were closed. I rushed to the front of the train, adding bruises to the back of my leg, to find the conductor to open the doors (there was no handicapped entrance on the other side of the tracks due to the train that CRASHED INTO THE PLATFORM not long ago). As soon as I got to the front and spotted the conductor, banging on the window, the conductor decided it was ok to take off early and did not heed my maniacaly banging, perhaps for good reason. I was stuck in Hoboken and my plans were dissolved.

I dragged my luggage back up to street level, cursing my luck and drawing more amusement than concern from whatever security and stragglers were around at 4am in the morning. I staggered up to the taxi line, and upon query found their outrageous price for driving to Newark. Because I was already near hysterics and dripping with sweat, I think I put up a convincingly scary argument for the cabbie to drop his rate, and we settled at $40.

As I sat in the cab with the window cracked ever so slightly, hoping the slightly radioactive air of Elizabeth, New Jersey would dry the mop on my forehead, I thought to myself:
"California, you better be worth it..."



It is.