Ahh, it’s been lovely. It’s been strange. It’s been fun . . . I have some interesting neighbors here at the hotel.

On the other side of a brick wall and alleyway, are some older homes, most of them with junk sitting in the back yards. One morning during a pink and orange sunrise, an old lady dressed like some kind of sherpa with a turban on her head puttered around outside in the cold, hopped on an abandoned, dilapidated exercise bike in her back yard and squeaked out a slow five minute ride.

We’ve got agent Barney Fife as security officer. He always stands in the same spot all night long in the hotel parking lot, his thumbs hooked inside his belt loops.

Across the street is some super secret, massively gated government facility with video cameras everywhere and signs literally every three feet proclaiming in no uncertain terms that no one should try to sneak inside.

Then there are those wierd rapper kids next door who like to slam doors. I’ve never seen them, but let’s just say, we’ve heard one another.

But today . . . today is a great day. Today is my last day living the hotel dream (at least for awhile.)

The phone rang at 7:30 AM.

“Uh, hello, Anna,” said the extreme country accent. “This is Bones. I’ll be there in ’bout 15 minutes.”

“Huh?” I muttered, half-asleep. “But you’re not supposed to be here til 8:00-ish!”

“Mah ETA is 7:43, ma’am.” And then the AAA tow driver hung up.

I heard Bones arrive. It wasn’t necessary that he call to announce himself. I could hear his radio blaring some kind of whiny country music throughout the entire hotel parking lot. Bones of Bones Towing was a young man in his early 20’s. His country accent was so thick, I noticed, because he barely moved his mouth when he spoke.

I explained that I didn’t necessarily need a tow, but he couldn’t find his jumper cables, which I thought was sort of odd. He proceeded to try to help me pop the clutch of my car by pushing it across the fairly level hotel parking lot instead of down the hill, which was not only completely ineffective, but also another oddity.

Then I hopped into the Bones Tow Truck and we were off. I’d given the address to AAA the night before, but I knew roughly where we were headed. And when he took a left to go toward downtown Albuquerque instead of a right to go toward the Firestone service station, again, I thought it was a bit odd. “Hey, man, it’s down the other way,” I said.

“Naw,” he replied. “I punched the address here in my GPS, we’re on the way.”

I decided to let it go. I’d get there eventually.

Albuquerque’s morning sky line is filled with hot air balloons. I’ve been wondering why, but haven’t had the chance to ask a local. “Hey, Bones, why all the hot air balloons in Albuquerque in the mornings? What’s that tradition all about?”

“I don’t know. I’m a tow truck driver, not a balloon driver.”

He drove quietly for a few moments, then out of nowhere, flipped a bitch in a church parking lot, exclaiming “Mah GPS fucked me over!,” and headed in the direction I wanted to go.

UPDATE: Here’s my driver and his GPS!

My long week has been interesting for sure. I don’t mind being ‘homeless’ as the Extended Stay America has truly been a comfortable home on the road. I’ve been a bit anxious, but not freaked out or in a bad mood about the whole thing. It’s actually been alot of fun to live in this way. But things have been compounding . . .

On Monday morning, bright and early, my car battery died. That was the same day my camera battery died and the weekend my phone took a dive. With my long work hours, it’s taken all week to get my car fixed. In fact, I still don’t have it back. Again, I’ve not really been too upset by the whole thing so much as I get a kick out of saying, “I’m homeless and carless in Albuquerque, living in an Extended Stay America with my cat.”

I’m settled in my hotel room finally, with christmas lights, candles and swatches of colorful fabric everywhere. I just know that when I’m gone during the day that the maids have tours come through my room . . . it looks that good.

Travel well tip - In a hotel room, drop the jizz blanket (you know, those nasty bedspreads that NEVER get washed) to the floor. Replace it immediately with an awesome blanket of your own. Notice the change in blankets from a week ago.

Yes, I had a picture taken of me at work as Wonder Woman. No, that’s not the one posted on this site. I signed a gnarly Non-Disclosure agreement. I’m in Albuquerque . . . on a secret mission.

I didn’t make the meeting, but no one minded. I did, however, have a *very* important fashion discussion with my boss.

“So, Anna, did you bring your Wonder Woman costume with you to Albuquerque?” she asked.

In fact, I did.

In fact, I had it in my car, but I didn’t tell her that. Later in the afternoon, I drove my car down to security get my ID picture taken so I would never again be late due to waiting in line at the guest guard shack. . . and I had an idea . . .

I walked back into the office with the costume in a bag under my coat,  immediately went to the bathroom, changed, and  non-chalantly walked into my boss’s office as she was having an informal meeting with our project manager. The look on his face was priceless. The look on her face was priceless.

“You requested the services of Wonder Woman?” I asked, as I sauntered in the door.

“No!” she replied. “I asked if you brought the outfit!” she said between guffaws.

They like me, they really, really like me!

After I loaded up my bedroom while trying to dodge the roommates’ housewarming party, I next had to venture out into the party itself, into the kitchen area to gather up the $140.00 worth of groceries that I’d purchased the prior weekend. I wasn’t fucking around when I’d moved in - I was truly ready to be settled, and I wasn’t about to leave without my food!

I dodged a kitchen full of people who were in various stages of food prep. I grabbed paper bags and began chucking pantry items in . . . really important things . . . like yerba mate, pasta . . . two open containers of whiskey . . . I did leave the moldy bread behind . . . Then I went for the fridge, handing out beers to their guests as I threw my frozen broccoli, aloe vera juice and other cold items into another sack. Dammit, they ate some of my ice cream!

Ahh, I was really running now, literally, trying to get out the front door with two heavy sacks when - blammo! - one sack ripped and pesto and eggs hit the floor right by the front door.

“Oh mother-fucker!” I screamed. No one seemed to notice the dramatic outburst, so I figured no one would notice when I went and got one of the big slobbery dogs to come and lick the cracked egg and pesto splatters up off the floor. No one did. And then, with no further ado, I grabbed Frank, put my key on the bedroom table and walked out the back door, never to be seen again.

Wow! I was offered a chance to go to the Pacific Northwest to be part of a dance at the end of February. All winter long, I’d been looking forward to the chance to go. Then, I was offered the job in Albuquerque and my start date was to be one week before the big dance.

I didn’t say anything to my boss, because she is already extremely generous to me in my requests for off-time. I was content knowing that maybe I could go next year. But I prayed that maybe my start date would get pushed by one week.

And . . . AND! I got the call this morning. I will be starting work two weeks later than planned. Now, I’m all in a-flurry . . . . getting plane tickets, making phone calls and getting prepared to do the work required for the dance.

Earlier this morning I was a bit confused because I am not only packing to move for eight months, but I’m also in the midst of setting up my art studio this week. Now, I’m packing, setting up my art studio, and planning a detour on an island in Puget Sound. Then I’ll come back to Venice, pack my car and road trip to ABQ! Somehow, I have more energy now that there is suddenly more on my plate. I don’t know how, but there is.

If there’s one question I heard the most last year, it was that one. That’s one reason why I’ve started this blog. Whether it’s a road trip, a work assignment, camping or backpacking, I find the most joy out of life when I am on the move, on the road and meeting people or seeing and experiencing something new. And last year, well, it was just really difficult for anyone, sometimes myself especially, to keep up with whose couch I was crashing or which hotel was home. I lived, worked and played in nine cities from August to December of last year alone and I figure that this often wild ride should be documented.

My home base is Venice Beach, California. I live in a little bungalow with Frank the cat who takes care of the place when I’m not around. I roller skate from pier to pier on the boardwalk every single day that I can when I am home, because often I find I’m not home, and missing my skates. I was ready to chill in Venice for a bit after landing home in December and relax . . .

But I just got my latest assignment. I’ve known sketchy details for about a month now, but I’m making an official announcement. I will be temporarily relocating to Albuquerque for some months. I’m excited about the prospect of working and living in such a beautiful landscape. The land there has spirit and depth. Work will be intense, but I feel like I won the lottery when it comes to co-workers and career, so even on the difficult days, I’ll have a smile on my face.

So I have T-minus three weeks and counting to get my life rounded up - and parts of it will go to ABQ, parts will stay behind. I don’t worry too much about the particulars, because just like taking off for a five day journey, the details kind of take care of themselves. I’ll find a place to live, I’ll figure out what to do with all of my stuff. I just try not to get in the way by thinking about any of it too much.