The Last Hurrah

Here I sit in Las Vegas, pondering the big gamble I'm about to make. Now before you start getting worried about my thin wallet and slot machine addiction, just know that I'm referring to life changes, not going all in on number 17. Last Friday I accepted a fundraising job in San Francisco and I start a week from today. So I've taken to pondering (otherwise known as obsessive second-guessing) the large gamble that I'm about to make: namely, that choosing stability, routine and responsibility and giving up my wandering ways is what I need right now. But it's really too late for rumination; I've already got everything riding on this bet.

Partly to celebrate and partly to get all of my yah-yahs out before next week, Elly and I have embarked on another grand adventure: a week long tour of the West. We met in San Luis Obispo for a whirlwind round of visits with some friends then popped down to Orange County on the way to Las Vegas. Today we're off to Bishop, high up in the Sierras, then down to the American River in the heart of gold country, perhaps a stop in Sonoma and then back to San Francisco just in time to complete my transformation back into a young professional. In typical style, we hatched this plan on Saturday morning over coffee, writing all the possible destinations on little sheets of paper and rearranging them until the puzzle pieces formed a sufficiently ambitious and adventurous picture.

So here I sit in Las Vegas, in the midst of the adventure I'll need to keep me sated during the daily nine to five I've signed up for, hoping it will scratch my wandering itch long enough for me to settle into the new routine.

More photos, disasters and food coming soon!

Location:Las Vegas

"Staying & Eating" Doesn't Quite Have the Same Ring....

One of my former boyfriends had a painting in his living room of a cockroach and the words "MOVING, KEEPING STRONG." I think about that canvas all the time, especially since I took off last July to do a long spell of traveling.  Somehow, those words perfectly capture the sentiment that drove me on this crazy trek around the globe in the first place.  Somewhere in my DNA is a drive to go every time my sanity is threatened...a primal nomadic instinct...a strong proclivity for the "flight" side of "fight or flight"...an ear that's carefully attuned to the call of my wild self's need for escape.  Sadly, this is a characteristic that puts me solidly in the company of gypsies, vagabonds and aging hipsters with a fear of commitment, none of which are particularly romantic figures.  

When I'm not in one of my moving phases, I feel a very feminine pull to put down some roots, make a cozy home, cultivate community and stay put.  But then the wind changes direction and all those roots get pulled clean up and I'm off again.  Like clockwork, this happens every couple of years.  It is a call that I cannot deny and I never see it coming until it's there and all I know is that I need to leave, NOW.  So that's what I did for the last year, by far my longest moving phase to date.  And now I'm back in California, looking for a job in San Francisco, dreaming of my own apartment and garden, salivating over the perfect couch and my own little kitchen.  I'm having an existential crisis about this blog.  Not that there aren't lots of great food adventures to be had in northern California, but "Staying & Eating" isn't quite as glamorous.  And so, the eternal question: to blog or not to blog.