Mark Maynard posted on his website today about our blog. His feelings seem to reflect everyone else's. People wish they could go with us, or wish they did when they had the chance. Yesterday I thought to myself "Hey, I can always join the army if it doesn't work."

My parents are a lot better now about me going. I'm pretty sure they still disapprove, but the talks we have are all typical parent stuff now. "Where are you trying to get a place?" and "Where are you going to try and work?". My dad was actually supportive. I was driving him to the airport and confiding to him my apprehension about the trip. I almost just wanted someone to agree with me and tell me not to go, but he said something like "Wouldn't you regret not trying?" Suddenly I realized, yes. I would regret it.

Quitting my job won't be fun. I'm not looking forward to telling my bosses I'm leaving them. They've promoted me and placed such trust in me. This always happens. I work hard, get a little bit ahead, and regret doing it because of all the extra effort I have to put forward when they finally up the ante. However, it's a small matter. I'll be gone soon and they'll have forgotten within a couple months.

I bought myself a home budget book in order to keep tabs on my spending. I'm going to try and save all of my receipts so that I can see clearly how much I spend on everything. I want to be as responsible as possible in such a chaotic (if not hair-brained) scheme. I'm hoping to put money aside as the months go by to eventually start an IRA for my retirement. I don't mind being a starving artist for a couple decades, but I don't want to die one.

I'll miss springs, summers, and falls in Michigan. I love the leaves and the smell of the seasons. The landscape can be quite beautiful here when it's determined enough. I'm going to miss my family, the tight-knit bunch that we are. I hope I can improve on my ability to write letters and e-mails to let them know how I'm doing. I'll especially miss my sister. I hope she comes to visit me soon.

Well, I'm tired and prone to making typing errors, so I'll quit while I'm ahead. If you're in California and reading this, make sure to keep it warm for me. I'll be there to take my place shortly. Making Michigan yet another erstwhile home.

Labels: By Chuck, Mark Maynard, Michigan

A few days ago I really started to trip out about leaving for California. It seems like I'm on a rotating emotional thing.... (I couldn't think of a clever analogy). I'm afraid, then I'm excited, then happy, sad, mad. Whatever. I'm sure this is the way everyone feels when they're about to do something that will change their life for a year at least. The only Hollywood I know is from movies and television. In all honesty, I have no idea what it's going to be like out there. All I know for sure is that the weather will be nicer, so I don't have to worry about wool socks anymore.

My dad's leaving for Asia on February 8th, so I'll only get to see him when he gets back, on the 28th. One day, and I'm gone. I wish I had talked to him more about everything, but I just couldn't think of anything to say. I don't want them to be unhappy. I'm trying to believe they aren't being irrational, but that's what everyone else seems to think. I understand they're just trying to look out for me, but I want to look out for myself for once. I still haven't talked to them, since I told them I was leaving.

I'm leaving a girl behind... I hadn't thought to talk about it before, but it seems pertinent. I've only been dating her for a month and some change, so it's not exactly like a broken high-school relationship, but I'm still sad about it. We'd talked about staying together and her coming to see me in the summer, but she has two more years left of school in Michigan and I'm starting to remember the last time I tried something like that. The girl was only an hour away at the time, and it failed miserably. I don't know what I'm going to do. I know where I'm supposed to be, but I've never known who I'm supposed to be with. I don't know how she feels about it. Not too sad I hope.

So that's about it, I guess. I'm ready to go now. I've almost completely prepared myself. I just have to talk to my parents, fix my car, get my money, and ride off into the sunrise.

Labels: By Chuck, Hollywood, Michelle

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.

Labels: Amanda, By Chuck, By Mike, Chuck, PayPal, Wicked Pickles

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...

Labels: By Chuck, Courage, Dread

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.

Labels: Amanda, By Chuck, By Mike, Packing, The Girl

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.

Labels: 1st Post, By Chuck