Notes from the Road (Pt. III)

Just kidding; there's not really a Part Three since the last day of the drive only took 4 hours. I just passed through a bunch of Star Wars desert, then there were some mountains where it started raining, and then I was in Los Angeles. 


California Cori. That’s me now. I suppose I’ve read enough about spirituality to know that the place in which you live doesn’t have much to do with who you actually are, but I would like to think that I’m made up mostly of sun and sea. I hope I could be a little bit of succulents and fruit trees. And I’ll be damned if I’m not at least partly avocados and In-N-Out Burger.

I live here, and it feels like I’m wandering in a dream. It's been raining-- it rains here, who knew-- which was not ideal for unpacking a fully loaded car, but which could be symbolic of my renewal and rebirth. I'll take it.

The house is a testament to putting full faith in Craigslist findings. I had only seen it and met the roommates via FaceTime before driving out here, but so far everything seems to be surpassing my expectations. I had wished for down-to-earth people, in-home laundry, and an included parking spot. I arrived to find that the room is bigger than it looked in the photos. The whole house is brighter. Outside there is a patio, a garden box, and a lemon tree. The backsplash in the bathroom makes it look like a hotel and makes me feel like my toiletries aren’t nice enough to be there. The roommates have a friendly dog and cat that kept me company while I hung up clothes and shifted boxes.

On the first full day, I went out for breakfast with my new roommates. There was vegan cheese, avocado toast, and $7 lattes, and it felt like I had officially woken up here. Later, I ran to the park, past a man screaming at the top of his lungs in the street.