The second leg of the flight was quite bumpy, but I definitely dig Frontier Airlines. Their seats are comfortable and spacious compared to United’s. Well, if they weren’t, they gave the illusion of being so. I’m awake, and my cell phone says it’s 8:30 AM. My laptop doesn’t yet know that it’s across the country, and reads the (proper) time of 11:30 AM. Still, I didn’t get to sleep until 1 AM or later local time, so I should be more zonked than I am.

I am not very zonked.

It got cold enough here in ‘s office/my new room to need a blanket, and I may ask for a bigger one for tonight.

The shuttle from SFO went all over the city last night, as I was the last passenger to be dropped off. I saw Fisherman’s Wharf, and a boarded up maritime museum. I saw hilly and mountainous geography mapped out in what seemed like millions of lights, and it seemed to stretch forever, despite those giant pointy outcroppings of ground at the horizon. I saw skyscrapers piled together almost casually, as if just hanging out, as we came around a mountain (hill?). I saw what appeared to be swank hotels right next to pawn shops and check cashing stores, and then a gourmet tie-and-jacket restaurant across the street that was right next to a pizza joint.

I look at my phone’s clock and feel productive. I look at my laptop clock and feel like a slacker. This is approaching hilarious.

It felt alien, last night. It felt foreign, and it felt crazy that I was here. It felt crazy that the cute, athletic girl (she’s over 21, should I be calling her a girl or a woman?) chatted me up on the plane for the entire trip from Detroit to Denver. It felt crazy that I could associate flying with getting uncomfortable gas, as if I were someone that flew regularly. It felt insane that Mom was able to keep it together until I was at the security checkpoint, and maybe beyond. I was so far away from everything that I knew when I fell asleep.

Now, the sun is pushing its way through the blinds, lighting up this way-too-yellow room. I’m in California, and I got chilled last night. There are a ton of wireless connections within my laptop’s reach, and all but one are secured. I don’t trust the unsecured one much, because it seems more likely that someone much like Ben Holcomb might be out here, redirecting my packets down the wrong tubes (-very- wrong), or just deciding to sit back and watch my traffic. How much more careful do I have to be, now that I’m in a big city that’s just north of Silicon Valley? I feel challenged, instead of alone. I feel possibilities, instead of frightening incongruities.

That’s another thing. Apparently, I’ve been misled on the definition of “city”. Wow. At street level, this place looks and operates like it might be a vital Detroit. When seen from afar, mid western cities seem less vibrant. Maybe I was just overwhelmed at the newness of it all last night. If not, I’m going to have to learn what let San Francisco be San Francisco, and help Detroit find that again. Maybe even Lansing. When I come back, of course. ;)

I’ll post this as soon as I find a network connection.

Packing is going, and going, and going. :) I think it just seems that way because that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last few days. Right now, I’m doing dishes and cooking some cheesy potato goodness. Frozen southwestern potatoes, spices, and Meijer shredded provolone cheese. Hey, you deal with what you’ve got, right? I may get really crazy and make some broccoli later. But that’ll have to be some sort of reward for packing up all of my electronics, cables, cords, adapters, and such.

Maybe it’ll motivate me more if it’s cheesy broccoli.