I don’t think many people in this neighborhood have to do a lot of walking. It’s an upscale residential area where everyone except for me has a car; my housemates and I lucked out while house-hunting, and apparently found the only place in the village that rents to hipster wastrels like us. Needless to say, we don’t get invited to a lot of block parties.

Tonight, after trekking down the hill to get some stuff at Rite Aid, I decided to make the roundabout trip home along a pretty, paved woodland path which, while it makes for a longer walk, is far less steep and more scenic.

Well, it’s more scenic in the daylight. At night, it’s fucking dark. Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, night being dark by nature, and all. I don’t know what made me think that the woods would be well-lit for the privileged denizens of my yuppiepants neighborhood, or that perhaps the path had been forged through a particularly moonlit stretch of suburban wilderness, but I was wrong. I couldn’t see a damn thing, and everything smelled of skunk.

I calmly reassured myself that the Oakland Hills, right by the highway, were most likely not inhabited by a band of psychotic, man-eating hillbillies. But then a voice in my head piped up, That’s what they want you to think ... and There’s no one around to hear you scream.

I hastened my steps.

Because I am not a raccoon, I failed to see the turnoff from the path and ended up hiking way, way up the mountain, circling about a mile away from my house, and getting so far off course that in the end, I had to turn around and go down the hill to get home. So, in effort to avoid trudging up a steep but familiar hill, I wound up getting so lost that I had to climb a goddamned mountain.

I diid, however, effectively avoid the hill. I feel like there’s a parable in here somewhere.

In other news, I found a house in San Francisco, so my annoying and exhausting apartment hunt has come to a close! I’ll be living with a few guys in a little cottage 10 minutes from the ocean, and 5 minutes from Golden Gate Park. My room is a perfect square, with hardwood floors, bright yellow walls, and two windows that, though they do face the house opposite and don’t provide much of a view, let in a lot of sunlight. I’m thinking of getting a couple of window boxes and growing moon flowers or tulips or something. Or cacti. I honestly might not have the motivation to take care of moon flowers, but I think I’m nuturing enough for cacti.

You guys know what? I’ve somehow managed to lose about 15 pounds since moving here. I certainly haven’t been putting much effort into it, though. Maybe it was the hill. Well, if I put it all back on when I move away from the ass-melting hill, I guess I’ll find out. I don’t particularly care either way, funny enough.

I have to go to bed. I have to catch a cab at 5:15 to go on a business trip. I don’t feel I’m quite at liberty to say where I’m going, because my job is in a computer geek industry, and there is no surer way to get dooced than to write carelessly about one’s workplace, when one’s workplace involves the very people by and for whom online interaction was created.

You know, by the tone and title of this entry, you'd think that I was becoming embittered by an excrutiatingly boring life. Not so. Things are pretty good, actually.

Hi!

~ Last Five Entries ~

You probably won't be surprised to learn there are flies circling me. - 04.23.06

Oh, I'm just kidding. - 04.17.06

Snake Sake - 04.15.06

I'm not wearing any underwear! - 04.12.06

Smoke Break - 03.22.06

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BUY JEN'S BOOK! BUY IT! DO IT!

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BUY DEAN'S BOOK, TOO! YOU KNOW YOU WANNA! SERIOUSLY.

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