on my 3 and half day trek across the country, I sat and slept in a seat on Amtrak's California Zephyr-->Lakeshore Limited-->Pennsylvanian lines (San Francisco to New York City). At 20 years old, I was looking for a compass. January 2007:
"going back west the nights are so fucking long. seriously the moon will be halfway in the sky forever. it smells in my car and I am glad I have so many books. which is also a bad thing because while you're reading one book you're thinking whats in the other."
"I'm sitting in the lounge in chicago and I've never seen people like this before. there's amish, born again christians and midwest type woodsie people. I heard a mother say to her daughter, " ur just like ur daddy" after she chose some bbq chips out of a vending machine. I wonder where these people will be or what they would've been doing had they been born someplace different. but I'm sure they are creative in their own diff way."
Excuse the slightly irreverent tone, but these entries had two things in it that I still enjoy to this day: Books and Potato Chips.
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