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The following online journal entries are from February 2002. On February 27, 2002, I left San Francisco after three years of residence. The plan was to return to Maryland. Before returning to the East Coast, I hoped to do a little traveling. On February 28, my friend Dustin and I set out from the Bay Area for Seattle. The entries from the end of February through the first week of March are an account of those Seattle days. Paragraphs in [brackets] and in blue are additional comments added after the entry's original date. |
SUNDAY. 8:50 PM. My last weekend in San Francisco is coming to a resounding close. Friday night, I had dinner with Murphy at the Metreon. Then we went to POW to see Jennifer, the co-owner, before I left the city. Then we went to the Cafe for some dancing and to meet up with my friend Kara. Suffice it to say that I drank entirely too much. Saturday, I sold off more of my furniture. Then Rob and Murphy took me out to dinner. Then we went to POW again for "Ed's Last Weekend" drinks. Friends stopped in and I drank again (though this time not too deeply). Today was the last session of my San Franciscan Tellings group. It was fun and the adventurers can look forward to a long life of retirement. The weekend started off on a really bad note though. While I was selling off some furniture, I got the mail, and lo and behold, there was a letter from the University of Maryland in the pile. It was a thin letter from the English Department. I opened it as I climbed the stairs back to my apartment. The thirty bucks I had just made for three pieces of furniture was still warm in my pocket. The letter was only two very slim paragraphs long. I didn't get in. My ideal of ideal situations for my leaving San Francisco and going back to the East Coast was suddenly gone. Evaporated. Nothing but a nascent dream. It didn't seem to bother me. "Your application is among those we were unable to accomodate." Then it sank in like a bag of Sacrete left out in the rain. And all I could was just cry, feel powerless, and just look around at the chaos in my life and suddenly realize that it was all for nothing. Well, it hasn't all been for nothing. I am still headed back East. I am still looking forward to being in Maryland for a while. I just now need to get a new compass reading and head for a new horizon. I have yet to hear back from San Francisco State University or NYU. I really hope I get into one of the schools. I want to move on with my life. I want to take the path meant for me. I want to know intellectually, emotionally, viscerally, tangibly that I am becoming the person I want to be. Wherever I gain acceptance is where I will be headed. Perhaps I am meant to return to San Francisco. It'll be a cunning twist of irony -- to return to the very place I am trying to get away from (even temporarily). Not getting in still gets me in some deep, tender spot. I didn't leave grad school the first time around with confidence and satisfaction in my abilities as a student, a scholar, or a writer. Though I knew in my heart of hearts that I was a damn fine teacher. So, this rejection re-opens a few old wounds. It would have to be Maryland that holds the bayonet. Right now, I'm just trying to roll with the punches. I have already shipped most of my belongings back East. If I had found out about the decision sooner, I could've just stored it here in case SFSU is where I'm ultimately bound. But only the fewest of essentials are left. I'm not sure what I'm going to do. I also have angst over the fate of my cat Mojo. I don't know if temporary accomodations for him is the wisest and most practical solution. I don't really have a good place for him to go. I really wish I could place him in a nice new home. Unfortunately, his chronic health problems make him "less desirable" and the SF SPCA will not take him for their rehoming program. The SPCA did recommend that I could simply surrender him to the SF Animal Control shelter. He would most likely make it to the SPCA from there since they get most of their animals from the shelter regardless of age or health (as long as they don't have major issues). I'm not sure what to do. I'm looking into the possibilities right now. Too much chaos. Too much stress. Too much agitation. And not enough alleviation. I'll be glad once Thursday comes around. All bets are off then and I'll be on my way on the next leg of my life. |
THURSDAY. 8:15 AM. I am in Fairfield, California -- home of Dustin's parents and famous for very little (so Dustin's friend Gavin says). The move out of my apartment went all right. It wasn't as smooth as I'd have liked to have been. [The last couple of hours were haphazard at best. I literally dragged everything that wasn't nailed down out to the curbside in bags, boxes, or whole. Dustin wasn't happy that I wasn't finished. Thankfully, he and Josh from next door helped.] My life has been packed up, shipped out, and once again condensed into two suitcases. [I did not manage to find a good home for Mojo. On Tuesday, I had gone down to San Carlos to help her move the rest of her stuff to Menlo Park. It's strange that she and I always somehow end up moving at around the same time. Then she drove me back up to SF and we took Mojo to the SF Animal Care and Control shelter. It was a very nice facility and the people who worked there were very helpful. It was very sad and he was not happy at all. I hope he finds a home soon.] Dustin and I are leaving for Seattle this morning. We'll be stopping for a night in Portland and then completing the last leg of the Northwest ride tomorrow. My friend Carol is waiting to welcome us to the Emerald City. I'm tired. Though it feels so much better now than it did yesterday when I was trying to get everything done. Well, I'm off to have a quick breakfast and then we're hitting the road. More later.
8:00 PM. Portland, Oregon. Travelodge. I don't know if this particular hotel has a name. It seems that most of the hotels, even if they belong to a large chain, have their own unique names. I'll have to find out. [We stayed at the Travelodge Downtown.] We just got in. Details later. It's time to find some food but the internet won't be of much help here since I cannot get a very fast connection. Everything -- maps, pictures, pages -- take forever to load if they load at all. The drive was long. Ten hours. I did the last half from Ashland to Portland. Ashland seems to be the home of a Shakespearean festival, at least that's what the gas station attendant told us as he filled up the car. In Oregon, there is no self-serve. People have been friendly along I-5. [I went to my first Circle K. Of course I had to recall the line from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure: "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K." It's a refreshing change. The weather has been clear. Though, as we left the desert of California and into the mountains and plains of Oregon, the temperature has slowly dropped. Mount Shasta was a white tooth that dominated the horizon until we were past the border into Oregon. More later. |
journal
© 2002 Edmond Y. Chang. All original material. All rights reserved.
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