I'm shaking up my world. Powers of infinite possibility are anchored by a dread of the unknown. An unfamiliar mindset seeps deeper into my conscience, and the knots in my stomach tighten. I'm a broke, plan-less 23 year old going out West, on whim. I have $450 to my name and 95% of my Political Science degree, in which I have all but lost interest. I spent the past year on the brink of graduation, but opted to invest my time elsewhere and help build a website for my parents business. The opportunity was ripe, but as the website finally began to thrive, a strong sense of discontent took root in my soul. I enjoyed the comforts of home; familiar faces, home cooked meals and a casual work environment. However, for some reason my life was disturbingly and inexplicably uncomfortable. My attitude toward work waned from it's initial enthusiasm to near complete apathy, and my thoughts drifted into the stereotypical, twenty-something doldrums. Then as fate would have it, a friend offered me the chance to tag along on his cross country drive to Palm Springs, where he'd recently gotten a job. Considering my academic status, I was skeptical and knew I ought to finish school.
Not until after the shockingly enthusiastic response to the trip idea by my folks did I fully grasp that this was the perfect time to say "fuck it". Both of them had gone West around the same age so I decided to chalk it up to an Eblen rite of a passage, forced conscious expansion. I already abhorred political science, most college students and the rat race in general, so why not take the opportunity to embark on an idyllic American adventure? I was in. We drew up some vague plans and convinced another friend to join, setting our departure date for December 26.
My companions are some old, high-school friends, Ben and Nate. Ben, the driver, is a tall, gangly redhead whose absurdity mixes well with a surprising intellect, a modern bohemian of sorts. Nate is the son of two doctors. His semi-sadistic, yet razor sharp wit blends hilariously with a penchant for high shelf liquor and the occasional, accidental rendezvous with doughy girls.
So now here we are, it's 1 am, in a blinding snowstorm, traveling leftwards across the map, and I have neither a return plane ticket nor a plan. All I know for sure is that anything and everything that happens to me will be updated here, no holds barred.
