Driving is the worst. I don't get out much myself. I lead a very uneventful life ninety percent of the time, but, Amanda always has a mile long to-do list, and it being that her car is brake-less, and my car being a stick-shift (which she can't drive... actually she can... but thats a whole other story altogether) anyways: Her and I drive around a'lot doing errands, and its torture enough to count the days left here in "good old Michigan", but to be in my car, and driving around this slush covered state, constantly having to blare the de-frost, and scrap the windows, my feet slipping below on the sheet of ice that has formed on my floor mat... it's unbelievably tempting to just drive. And to keep driving... until I can turn off the heat in my car, until I can roll down the windows, until the roads are dry and ice free.

Sadly enough, it took Chuck and I most of the afternoon to figure out how to add links and change the text color for our blog. We searched through the many lines of html in our 'blog template' looking for jumbled messes of letters and symbols that actually made sense... I haven't had to write html in over seven years, since my freshman year of high school in computer class, and even then I was too busy not paying attention to actually pick up anything educational.

Then Chuck accidentally deleted our work. But, in the end, we managed, (...yes I realize the pointlessness of that story...) And our blog lived happily ever after.

Amanda was selling some CD's the other day for extra cash and she came up with an idea for a band name. So when we get to California, we're starting a garage band. The Wicked Pickles. I get to be lead vocals, Mike can be bass, and Amanda will be on lead guitar. Speaking of selling CD's, I couldn't believe people will still pay money for them, even if it is only $3 a piece. Unfortunately, I think $3 is looking pretty good for the California fund. She got about fifty total.

I finally sold the truck (a giant '89 F-150) and bought myself a '95 Escort LX. I like the car a lot. It's an automatic, so I won't have to shift in the worst traffic in America, and the body and interior are in great shape. I know nothing about cars, so I didn't really bother asking much about the engine and stuff, but the guy was a mechanic and said they put in a new engine with only 60,000 miles on it. I'm putting my faith in a guy with oil-soaked hands and clothing, but he seemed too dense to be putting one over on me. (I hope that comment never comes back to bite me in the ass)

The room I'm staying in at Jessica and Andrew's place flooded the other day. Fortunately my belongings were on the other side of the room. Actually, most of my stuff is already in the car. I don't have anything to do with it now, so my car sits wherever I park it, ready to drive 2,500 miles (god willing) with all my personal effects in tow. I have to get the car checked out today because the engine warning light keeps coming on, but I'm hoping it's nothing serious.

I had a dream last night and I actually convinced myself not to go in the dream. It was so strange to wake up and think you've done something like that. I had decided to stay here and go to school, because my parents came over and convinced me and brought my sister and lots of baked goods. I'm not sure if my subconscious is trying to tell me something, but the urge is still to leave.

If anyone reading this wants to send us money for the trip, I can send you our mailing address. We accept personal checks, money orders, or paypal. Or you can just ship us a big jar of pennies. In return, we'll send you a very nice postcard of a Japanese girl or guy in the latest Japanese fashions. thanks readers.

The moment I finally decided I was going to California, I remember a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. There were so many unanswered questions. I wasn't even sure if I believed I was really going. And would I fall flat on my face and have to come back, knowing full well that my parents wouldn't help me out if that happened.

Many times I considered backing out. Even when we were still planning just how we were going to do it. I would sit cross-legged on the couch and wish something would happen that would bar me from leaving. Something beyond my control. I thought about just telling Mike and Amanda to leave without me, or not go at all, and hope that they could forgive my cowardice.

But I couldn't lose my best friends, so I kept planning with them and hoped the feelings would go away. I prayed for God to give me solace and courage that I was making the right decision. My instincts still told me this was the direction I had to go.

Then one day... I couldn't wait. In fact, it really started to bug me that I couldn't leave yet. It's only two weeks later and I can barely stand the waiting much longer. The cold weather is a constant reminder that I will soon be much farther south.

The fear is gone, only to be replaced by the worst kind of anticipation. I know it's the way someone must feel when they are headed in the right direction. I know I am headed in the right direction, and I hope that God will take care of my friends and me.

I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain by moving 2,500 miles away from my home, and I can hardly wait...

That is, by far, the best piece of advise I've been given lately (possibly ever).

On Christmas Eve I asked God for courage; I'm getting closer to my dreams everyday, now. I wasn't sure at the time, even what I was asking for, now I think that I have a pretty good idea.

I've told everyone I know and everyone I've met, that I am moving to L.A., since the first time I went to visit my Uncle Thurman there, in the summer of '96. That's been my plan for 7 1/2 years. I guess you could call it more of a dream than a plan; I knew, somewhere in the back of my head, that it might not ever happen. But here I am, less than 6 weeks away, chasing my dreams, confronting my fears. Of course there were so many in the beginning, and everyday I remind myself, that "it's OK to be scared, but brave people do it anyway". And it's working. I know now that my fear cannot hurt me, and that God will not give me anything that I cannot handle.

We search the internet everyday for apartment leads and job openings, we look around for things that we can sell, and we've started packing the things we plan to take. We still aren't sure if we'll be able to come up with all of the money we need, but I know that it will all work out. I am more excited than afraid now, after all, the magic 8 ball says "all signs point to yes", "it is certain"..... the ocean is calling me..... this is my destiny.

Well I helped Chuck gather up the last of his things from his parent's house this morning. We filled the truck again... not expecting that one, out of all us; Chuck was the one thought to have the least by far. And I think he still does - but its becoming obvious that all of amanda and I's personal belongings is gonna be tricky to pill into two little escorts.

But the good news is that we found a bike rack that will attach to the trunk of my car, and easily hold three bikes. So 'whew' I can stop worrying about that :) Now just the t.v., and computers, the speakers, the cameras and their cases, the clothes, DVDs, the list goes on and on. How does someone with so little money manage to get so many things?

Okay, I have a question, I have two cars; one is a 'two-door Ford Escort' and the second is a Mercury Sable (rusty but trusty). Now the escort of course is the car of choice because its not held together solely by rust and dirt, it has working heat, and it doesn't squeek in the rear like the trunk is about to fall off while driving down the highway, but - the sable has four doors, a trunk (both desperately needed for all my crap), and cruise control (a very nice feature for long trips). So the question is posed: Which car should I take?

e-mail me your advice, and I'll post the good stuff on our blog.

I'm moving to California and my parents aren't happy about it. I won't have health insurance, a job, a place to stay, or even that much start-up money, but at least I'll be there. I'll be in Hollywood, where every day is sunny and warm and I can forget there are cold places in the world.

It was three degrees outside today. I'm sure it's been this cold just about every year around this time, but it seems even colder now. I just keep thinking "you'll never have to worry about this again". You might be poor, your job might suck, you might spend 20 years trying to break into an industry akin to a high school popularity contest... but at least you'll be warm... and at least you'll be with your friends... and at least you tried. That's more than most of them can say.

I don't have anyone to bail me out this time, so I don't have any reason to come back. I keep telling myself there are people in the world that didn't have parents to bail them out in the first place, and I'm sure they made it fine.

We're going to be ok. Things are going to work out.

I'm still "broke as a joke" (as The Girl would say). But sitting here listening to Pearl Jam's live version of 'Yellow Ledbetter' the feeling that everything will work out feels more logical than I'm destine to fail. And I know that worrying will get me no closer to the west.

Everyone's parents know now, we've all broken the news and Chuck's parents were the only ones to have any issues, and no one can seem to understand why.
The three of us have spent our lives working up the nerve to go out and give it everything we have, knowing the dangers of falling flat on our faces 2,500 miles away from any immediate family. The last thing any of us need to hear (especially from our parents) is that we are making big mistakes, and that we won't be helped if we leave and whole list of other un-encouraging topics.

But we are still all going; still all leaving the 29th, we still are going to make our own mistakes, and live our own lives.

Getting off that subject: The other day while the three of us sat around and talked in greater detail about our plans for California I decided to call Bryan Godwin (who owns a production rental service out in North Hollywood) who is a friend of Amanda's (The Girl's) family. It was defiantly encouraging to hear from someone who has made a life in the film industry offer his advice and possibly a job.

Well - its time for me fill out online job applications. So, till that day.