The Hunt for the Perfect Travel Journal

For the last three days, I've scoured through all my favorite stationery stores in San Francisco on a mission...to find the perfect travel journal. My demands aren't outrageous. Something with a leather-like exterior. Lined paper that is neither too wide nor too narrow. Something about wide-ruled paper is just insulting to me, possibly due to those grammar school days practicing my cursive with the emphasis on especially round lower-case a's. So college-ruled, but oddly in the past few days, I have encountered journal pages with lines so packed in there that there was barely any room to dot an i. Also medium-sized because I hate moving to the next line after every fourth word. Preferably, one with a elastic band to keep the pages intact. Possibly, even with a sleeve to keep those random ticket stubs or receipts. I feel like I'm describing a Moleskine here, found at any bookstore, but I refuse to shell out fifteen dollars for a journal. Add that to the cost of internet cafes in Cuzco and my media grant would probably even itself out.

The only contender I found was at cute lil' Gable's Stationery in the outer Richmond. Called WritersBlok in a lovely three pack with a darling description:

Writing is good exercise. It’s good for your mind in the same way that riding a bike is good for your legs. It’s a way to communicate, capture a thought, grow an idea. It helps you think, be more creative, and….it’s fun. And these are things we think are good and good for you…

I refuse set out to Perú, scribbling on an used Mead notebook; I'm classier than that.

Location: San Francisco, CA

Song Playing: Rocks and Daggers by Noah and the Whale

San Francisco and Rand McNally

Having said goodbye to Los Angeles by peeking through my kleenex box and Christina's desk lamp of junk leftover from our dorm room, I arrived in San Francisco after several rounds of car sickness due to watching a Scottish movie (which I have yet to finish) while swerving through those desolate streets of Gilroy. I moved into the lonely top floor of the house, meaning two bedrooms, one.half baths, living room, and kitchen all at my disposal, but I live here with a terrible fear of the local bum, which I'm sure there are several, will discover such a gem and move in with me. Despite my fear, this is probably the best pitstop in terms of living situation that I will have in the next year.

In order to keep the longest guessing game ever going (aka learning Spanish), I now click the español link on PostSecret every Sunday, making every bit just taunting because I can only make out two out of three words, but all sex related secrets are out the window (since my vocabulary is only pertains to furniture, relatives, and foods), and end up piecing together what I think the secret would be.
To further rub in my year abroad, traveling to every colored regions of those Rand McNally maps that hang in grammar school classrooms, I've added a location stamp following every post, which I hope will change as often as I post.

Location: San Francisco, CA

Song Playing: Yes, So On and So On by Thao Nguyen and the Get Down Stay Down