30 January 2007


I've been meaning to write.

I've been meaning to write about the 4500 miles I traveled in 3 weeks over the New Year, about my hotel pen collection, about the juicy bounty of oranges a colleague brought into the office - picked just before California's bitter frost. I've been meaning to write about the tight and pricey housing market in Santa Cruz, and my need to find a space heater to chase the winter chill. Brrr!

I've been meaning to write about wind-swept pine trees, sweet smelling farms, casual-dress workplaces, salami sandwiches with sweet chili jam spread, and the surfer speak slinking into the language assimilation that comes with relocating.

In addition, I've been meaning to write about how I'd like to get rid of all my worldly possessions (except for that oversized bag I bought in Arezzo), what it's like to source ingredients for a 400-person luncheon, the exhilaration of being a Netflix subscriber, the (odd) luxury of having donut shops on every corner.

So many good intentions, so little time. All these moving parts, as well as many others slipping through my fingers, make up the moving parts in my current mobile.

To Constant Motion? Cheers.