March 8, 2004
I'm a wanderer...from here to outer space
I took a mini road trip on Saturday. Roommate and I used to live in Monterey, as I'm sure I've said a couple times before, and every once in a while, we get the urge to go for a visit. Nothing special, no plans, just in and out, no one knows the better. So we hopped in the car on Saturday morning and drove the excruciating hour and a half down to MoCo and had a great day. It was sunny and warm. The ocean was clear and blue. The tide was out and we enjoyed the tide pools in Pacific Grove. It is always a little weird for me to go back there just because I lived there for so long, you know? Eight years is a significant amount of time to spend in one place. Part of me wanted to stay there or even move back there, and then the rest of me said "wake the fuck up and go home!" I think if I ever had a lot of money to spend on a small cottage in Pacific Grove, I would do so in a second. But only if...
So after we watched the sunset on Marina Beach, we drove up to Santa Cruz. The first time I ever went to Santa Cruz was in April 1990. The town had just been devastated by the Loma Prieta earthquake. It was about six months afterwards, and most of Pacific Street was closed off, in ruins. And that's how I remember Santa Cruz. To this day, I still think of fences and gates blocking off the road instead of what has sprouted up in its place. It's a fully rejuvinated main drag now, full of college kids from UC Santa Cruz, street performers, and tourists like me. We dawdled around for a while. I found an awesome 500-page book full of cookie recipes at one of the bookstores there for only $10. I was so excited at that, and I don't know why that's important now.
We left around 10pm and drove up Highway 1 toward San Francisco. The (mostly) full moon was out, and the road was fairly empty. It was a beautiful night to drive. We stopped along the way at one of the state beaches and listened to the ocean for a while. I could listen to the roar of the ocean forever. It's the most unobtrusive noise, so soothing and relaxing. When I lived in Monterey and Carmel, I could hear the waves crashing on the beaches from my apartment, and it was the best way to fall asleep...or wake up for that matter.
Sunday was spent. And now it's Monday. Gotta go. (Seventeen days left.) 
