Tag Archives: west coast

Sep 03 2014
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Beer, East Coastin', Left Coast, Travel

I’ll send you a postcard…

Happy belated Labor Day.

While everyone else is back to work and back to school, I’m officially on vacation. (Well, I mean, working vacation, but it’s still glorious. Because it’s that good kind of work that I mentioned.) I’m sitting at Arabica in Portland (Maine) (the original one–settled in 1633, according to the infallible Wikipedia) with beautiful people with beautiful tattoos, probably within a mile of Bill Clinton, contemplating surfboard builders and California rollers.

Tomorrow morning, I’m heading west! I was thinking, this will be my first flight in almost a year, which is insane after hopping from airport to airport on a pretty much weekly basis the year before that. It’s funny the way something can become second-nature and then slip right back into novelty territory. I find myself asking questions like, “Do I need a passport to fly domestically?” “How much time should I give myself at the airport?” To be fair, I usually do need a passport and the [international] standard 1.5 hours before boarding when traveling. I know, I know, douche jar.

Anyway, after my wicked busy summer, I’m so looking forward to reuniting with the Left Coast. And having the time and energy to write more. Look for dispatches from the West and new stories soon. Right now, though, I’m going to pack up the MacBook and go sip some Allagash, straight from the source.

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Aug 26 2010
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Left Coast

I Would Do This Job For Free All Over Again

Today is my last day as a SURFER intern. Last night, I sat on the floor of my sparsely decorated bedroom and packed some movies and t-shirts into a cardboard box. I think I got some dust in my eyes or something.

It's in the mail.

As most of you know, I am an incurable optimist, so I’m trying to look on the bright side. Sure, New Jersey is not as sunny as California, and the waves are quite a bit less consistent, but the water is warmer. So is the air… this time of year. New York is a lot more exciting than San Clement-y. Jersey gas is cheaper (and I don’t have to pump it). Some might call this a con, but I AM TRYING TO BE POSITIVE, HERE. Dan supplied: “Talk is cheaper in NJ. And if you have fists, you have to pump them.” Okay, that works–fist pumping is a hallmark of good cheer. We get epic thunderstorms on the East Coast, not just dreary drizzle. The tri-state area is where most of my friends and family are located. And maybe above all, I only have one semester left before earning my MA and then, theoretically, I can go wherever/do whatever I want. Probably, where I will want to go is here and what I will want to do is this. But we’ll see. The world is an aphrodisiac. Or whatever. Buck up.

P.S. If this is anything like when I left Paris, and I suspect that it will be, you can look forward to lots of cynical posts in upcoming weeks. Hey, at least they might be funny.

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