If you’ve read KB’s blog, I’m sure you’ve gathered that my travels have begun, starting with a visit in Portland where I met up with a dear old friend. That’s right, Billy Idol. Alas, he had a show that night so we couldn’t hang for too long and I had California waiting for me so we parted ways. The life of a rock star is hard and he’s had to learn to adjust to my lifestyle because of it. Poor Billy.

With Kris and Joey still sleeping, I whispered a quick goodbye and headed out the door with hopes of making it from Portland to Oakland in one day. It’s funny to think as a kid how far it seemed and how necessary it was to make it a two day trip. Of course that was when leaving from Whidbey Island, but still I think ten hours is easy. Especially since I was accompanied by Stephen King’s “The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon” on tape and then followed by David Sedaris’ practically complete collection on tape as well.

There were points in my drive where I realized I was focusing so much on the stories or the road that I had completely blocked out the scenery. I found this strange because while traveling for work, I always noticed how beautiful everything around me was, or in some cases how dreadfully dry and flat. But since I was making an I-5 drive down to Cali, a drive which I could do blindfolded, I think I was…well acting blindfolded.

At this point I realized the only thing I had really noticed were big splashes of paint on the road in front of me every few hours. Somewhere in Oregon is when I first noticed a huge splatter of Hot Pink paint and the dented can off to the side. I made an unconscious note of this and drove on. Then shortly after entering California I noticed another giant stain of Hot Pink. It was at this point I thought to myself, “Oh my god, I hope that was all the Hot Pink they were carrying because that definitely does not need to go up on anyone’s wall, house, or fence.” Two hours later I was both comforted and pleased when I saw a nice shade of stucco splashed across my lane. The comfort came from the fact I felt as if I were being shown that despite my lack of attention to where I was going, I at least was going the way of the paint. Consistent with some tacky interior designer maybe, no doubt heading to the Castro district.

Around the final half hour of my drive I noticed the last bit of paint, apparently the primer, a stark white laid across marking the end of my trip. First, the thoughtful pensive Katie said, “And so I’ve arrived. Thank you good paint for leading the way.” But then the practical Katie thought, “Some poor fool is going to get to where they’re going and have nothing left but some paint brushes and maybe another can of primer.” At least we can rest assured the Hot Pink won’t be making an appearance anytime soon in some tasteless California home.

So this brings me back into blogging. You can hate or not, but I will try from here on out to keep you updated. I’ve been resting and getting things done the last few days, which includes finally mailing my taxes off (they owe me money so cut me a break) and making promise after promise to get Erin and Jenna moved over to Movable Type. It will happen you two, really. Just give me some time and I’ll be back in the swing of things.

And as Christy said, I had yet another flat tire, just as I was getting onto the Bay Bridge in rush hour traffic in San Fran. Luckily I was able to pull off quickly and in under 15 minutes had the tire changed and ready to go. I’m getting good at this. The “Katie luck” didn’t end there though; turns out the tire is shot so I just picked up my car from having a new tire thrown on it. Someone up there must think I need a lot of practice with the tire changing.