So - I'm finally healthy and have a place to live. Much pressure has been relieved and an imaginary, yet extremely forceful, burden has been liften off of my shoulders and face. Getting here was no easy feat, however. And, for the sake of those who are curious, and for my own future recollection, I'd like to take the time now to capture the essence of the events which have lead me here.

About a week and a half ago, back in Charlottesville, I'm getting packed up. I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom on my computer, which is also on the floor. I'm chatting with friends and burning CDs for the long ride ahead of me. At this point I'd been sick for about a week and a half. At this point, the sickness was so much a normal part of my life that it just adhered itself to my usual reality, causing me to life a more jaded, and painful, version of what I was used to.

I got in contact with my friend, Carlos, who let me chill with him at his place that day. We hung out, he made me some tea, I made my frozen pizza - since it was all I had left from my freezer - and we watched that Rob Zombie horror flick, but the second one, the Devils Rejects I think it was. Not bad for an inexperienced filmmaker if you ask me. It was really graphic and all, but still a more or less enjoyable flick.

Against my better judgment, I decided to go out one last time that night with my friends to Karaoke. I didn't drink a drop though - I at least was smart enough to stick to being sober for the sake of my health. All in all, it was a good time. Haha, I ended up doing a nice rendition of 'End of the Road' by Boyz II Men with my friend Sara for my last performance. I can't say we did a wonderful job, but it was appropriate and touching nonetheless. Goodbyes were easy, which was nice. They are good people, and I trust I will see them again someday.

The next morning I get up, get ready, and get out. Carlos sends me off with a book called 'How to be Bad' by some edgy British author. He listened to me talk at length once about how I am a big Chuck Palahniuk fan, and he claims that this guy does what he does tenfold - and that this guy openly claimed that Chuck was tame and simple compared to him. I'll get to that book one day - still reading 'The Art of War'.

There really isn't anything spectacular to report about my 1000 miles journey. All except for the fact that it was very difficult, painful, and consisted of me stopping about every 30 miles to pee since I had been drinking so much water. I did see a lot of nostalgic signs and landmarks I had seen on my last Spring Break trip to Panama City Beach where my friends and I drove all the way down from Mass in an RV. I stopped off in Panama for halfway point in my trip at a Best Western. That hotel would prove to be the nicest and cheapest one I stayed in up until now. More to come on that in a second.

I arrive in Boca Raton on Friday night. Here's where things get really interesting. I had Googlemapped myself to Boca Raton, the city, so the diretions would throw me in the heart of the place. That way, I figure I would be able to easily find all necessary amenities at hand, including a hotel. Wrong and wrong. I got off on this dark, scary, main road that was wrought with construction and had no street lights at ALL. Any signs of civilization or business were blocks apart. I would literally drive for miles seeing nothing but grass and palm trees. Eventually, I pulled over and had a friend of mine Google me the directions to the closest hotel. When I get there, they tell me that the only thing they have available is a 350 dollar suite. Fuck that, Peace Out. I call MJ again and have him look for more hotels. Upon doing some research, he quickly found out that almost all hotels are booked solid. And why? A boatshow. A fucking boatshow.

I was tired, I was hungry, I was sick. I wanted to sleep. I call my last boss and let him know of my situation because, even though GE incurs the costs of my relo expenses, I'm supposed to front it on my personal CC first - there is no way I can let those expenses just sit on my credit line waiting three weeks to be relieved. So I get the go ahead to stay at that 350 dollar suite and put in on my corp card. But I was told to do some due diligence the next day to find something more reasonable.

I called the corporate lines of the 5 major hotel chains in the area. The best I could find was 150 dollars a night as some place 30 miles south of where I wanted to be looking around for a place to live. Just fucking swell. I booked it for a few night hoping after Presidents Day Weekend prices would dip again. I put it on my GE card again, cause that's still too much to front.

The next few days are spent running around, meeting potential roomates from roomates.com and, in some cases, their places. It was also spent imbibing copious amounts of water, zinc, Vitamin C, echinacea, and green tea. I decided that I had been taking Sudafed and Ibuprofen far beyond the recommended duration and consulted my friend Gavin who always has sound advice for, well, anything. This recommendation was sold as ever - I swear by this natural treatment.

Driving around was fucking terrible. Seeing as how the hurricane decided to take a good deal of street signs with it, even Googlemaps logistical prowess couldn't help me. Thank god for McDonalds and their free Wireless though. Actually, thank god for Nintendo for giving it to them. Thank you Shigeru Miyamoto.

It was this weekend where I had met a few people, one of which I decided to be roomates with, one of which lived in a neighborhood far too nice for me, and one of which was responsible for me partying with OJ Simpson.

This entry is long enough for now. I'll finish another time.
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