Today whilst cleaning out a cupboard I found an old travel diary which was written in November/December 1995.
On 3 December 1995 I was in California, staying at the YHA in Santa Monica. Very good hostel by the way. Highly recommend it. I'd spent the day being a tourist at Venice Beach with a very cute documentary filmmaker named Matt and we were scouring the classifieds because I'd suddenly decided to ditch my Amtrak pass and purchase a car. All because taking a little drive* across the USA sounded more fun than catching trains.
Three days later I'd purchased said car and was speeding my way up the coast to San Francisco with Alannis Morrisette blaring out of the stereo.
I used to be spontaneous like that.
What the bejeezus happened?
Someone get me a plane ticket, stat. I'm getting in a rut here.
* West to East, East to South, South to North, North to East... 32 states in total. And on my own.