Gave notice on Friday. Surprised myself by being nervous all day, nervouser and nervouser over a couple of hours. Bummed a cigarette of Josh right before I went into Flash's office. I swear those things are straight magic -- no matter what is overwhelming or which bad shit is going down, just smoke a cancer stick and everything is alright again. I saw the last half of some dipshit movie recently, where Will Farrell had to drink more and stronger coffee in order to keep control as his stress level rose. I bet in the original screenplay it was the less socially acceptable tobacco, from lights to reds to cloves to cigars to a hookah.

Well hell, I feel like a smoke now.

Anyhow, Flash was not surprised that I was leaving, and didn't have any real commentary, besides "You know, we aren't going to have any developers left!" Which is true, the other developer gave notice two weeks ago and is gone now.

The expatriate club had lunch and beers and did some preemptive reminiscence before we scatter up and down the coast. Michael, the other developer, is off to San Francisco to do contract work for IBM. I tried to tell him what all I love about that city, but I don't think it took. He'll find out for himself in any case. Mac, who left a couple of months ago, is making beaucoup bux as an independent ecommerce consultant and has no plans to leave SD. He hires a limousine when he goes out with a girl now, no shit, says $350 is way cheaper than a California DUI that costs ten grand. Which is also true.

As for myself, I am going to Seattle, all expenses paid. Weirdest goddamned thing in the world to be saying out loud, to other people. Much more so than saying it on the internet. Within the next two weeks some guys are going to hop out of a truck and all of my shit is going to disappear out of my house like David Blaine. I have no idea what to do while this is happening -- is there an accepted protocol? Am I supposed to kick back in the yard and watch people do work while I sip a margarita? The alternative being, what, to sit on the floor in my house and read a book while this flurry of activity drifts through my apartment?

Maybe we all have the reflex where when good things happen, for one thing it's unbelievable on a basic level, and for another even if it is true probably something is going to fly out of reality and fuck it up for you before too long. Or maybe that's just me. I mentioned this to Christina and she said, "What could possibly happen where your job would go *poof* besides the zombie apocalypse?" ... and I didn't have a good answer, but come on, something could. Decisions made, regretted or not, come back to roost in unexpected ways.

Got a television the other day, from a friend who didn't need it any more. Twenty-three inches of grey-faced Panasonic love, manufactured in 1984. Needless to say I have been playing lots of Tetris yesterday and today, which is what I have been missing most without a TV. If this were real life I would be anxious about having to move it, but here in fantasyland some guys are going to move it for me so who cares?

Sold my eight-foot Christmas tree on Craigslist, much to the cat's dismay. She loves generating anarchy with the ornaments and branches etcetera. I'm going to sell my giant speakers too I think, the ones I imported to California in my single vanload of crap in 2003 instead of three crates of books that could have fit in their place. Talk about a decision I regret. I might also sell my turntables and get new ones up North. No sense in letting the movers break them and I've wanted to side-grade to Technics for a while now anyway so hey.

I have friends there already: People I went to college with. People from this one website I used to post to a lot. A guy I used to drive to Missouri and play Magic with, of all things. In a way it seems almost like moving home.

A handful of crucially important people are missing of course. Such is life.

There were these strange feelings for the first time when I visited Portland. I had always expected to keep drifting, on along through the Pacific Northwest, probably over to Manhattan next. Maybe a stop in Athens, GA afterwards. Who knows, right? But after Portland my brain did this weird thing where it said, "OMG, you could buy a house there and make close friends. Attach yourself to the land. Get a tattoo of a rose on your back. Plant tomatoes." It was a surprise to have that come out of my brain -- I was not expecting it.

"Homeless" is an interesting word. When I was maybe six my mom and I spent let's say six months technically homeless, living in a motel. She worked out a deal where she paid half the nightly price and they didn't change the sheets or soaps etc. In big cities they call it an Economy Apartment, I think, but this place was on the poor edge of a tiny Kansas town. For a six-year-old, though, it was ADVENTURE!

I am curious as to how all of this will turn out. Guess I will find out soon enough.