Now there's a guy who knows where his towel is.

In Philly when I got tired of something, or just needed to recharge, or wanted to be alone, or didn't have anything else to do, I'd just go home. Right now, though, it feels like I don't have one. Not yet. I'm living, for the moment, in a pre-furnished apartment, with less than a weeks worth of winter clothing. It feels like I'm in a hotel. Which made me wonder: how psychologically dependent am I, or we, on having a home? (Yeah, no social life yet so I've plenty of time to think. And watch House.) What if I kept moving so frequently that I never had time to settle in anywhere? What if I never had a fixed address? Would I go crazy? I don't know. I may or may not get a chance to try that. Now that I managed to tear myself away from where I grew up, the idea of moving pretty much anywhere they speak English doesn't scare me.

Could I travel the world with few possessions beyond a towel and a little book that says DONT PANIC in bold red letters? By now you've realized that this is a long post and are wondering whether its really worth your time to read it all. The answer is no.

I was genuinely hoping that by now I would have some crazy stories to tell. Something about going clubbing and getting lost in Chinatown and waking up without any pants. Unfortunately I've been unusually tired. When I come home from work all I feel like doing is sitting around and watching some tv. Cooking myself dinner seems to take extra effort. Admittedly, I haven't actually cooked dinner in over a year, so this is a little new to me. I like living in an apartment with a real kitchen. And...housekeeping. Which I discovered today. I knew that, in theory, I was supposed to get housekeeping services (courtesy of this corporate housing agency) every other Wednesday, so I should have been prepared. However, two Wednesdays went by and there were no housekeeping services, so I just assumed I wasn't receiving that service and figured out how to take the trash out myself, which by that point took two trips. Unfortunately, I was wrong. I figured this out when I got home after work because the large pile of dirty dishes in the sink was gone, and whoever put them in the dishwasher knew how to run it so they actually get clean. Plus, all my stuff, everywhere, was all shuffled around. Not thinking that they were coming, I was content to leave my crap everywhere, including loose money and my laptops and a bunch of sensitive financial documents, etc. To my relief nothing that I remember owning is missing. Of course that doesn't really say much.

While we're on the subject of things that freak me out: I'm getting the impression that the people at Starbucks (the one near my job) are actively trying to learn my name. I know this wouldn't bother normal people, but I think its completely weird. I've only gone there like 1 or 2 times. Actually it may be approaching 5, but still. During my first or second co-op in Lansdale I actually carefully planned out where I'd go for lunch each week because I was worried that if I went to wawa too often they'd start to recognize me. Eventually I gave up and went to Wawa almost every day and no one seemed to care. Here, though, watch out.

After finishing an amazing book called "Three Cups of Tea" I went for some heavily advertised book about Starbucks. Thought it would be good. The title is something about starbucks saving my life. Its supposed to be this inspirational story. I finished it last night. The guy who wrote it is really into the coffee chain, and works there, and writes about their training. Apparrently, and I did not know this, the fact that the people at Starbucks always seem happy and friendly is not a coincidence like I thought it was. That's their job. They are supposed to be chatting you up while you order. So all this time I thought I was learning to be more friendly or something, the coffee people were just doing their job. Oh, and today the girl behind the register gave me a free bag of coffee...beans. Not entirely sure what I'm going to do with it. I am definitely not going to sit at home and try to figure out how the coffee maker in my room works. I don't drink coffee because I love coffee; I drink coffee because I want to hang out in a coffee shop. Or just get away from my desk for a few minutes. Maybe everyone else who goes there really is a coffee snob, and thats why people always make fun of starbucks. I don't know. All I care about is finding more drinks I like so I can randomly order different drinks before the baristas start guessing what I want.

Some people fear death. I fear a coffee shop where they already know I want a "grande vanilla latte for Dave" as soon as I walk in the door.

Housekeeping, starbucks...oh. I'm learning Spanish. Soy aprendando espanol. That was probably wrong, actually. I don't really know why I've decided to try this again. In middle school they gave us a choice between German, French, Spanish, and some other language I didn't bother to even remember. I wanted to study French, for no other reason than Owen was studying it. But French was full so I took Spanish. Then I spent 3 or 4 years studying the language and never learned enough to hold a conversation. Since moving here, I've had so much time on my hands, and such a desire not to waste it, that I bought a few Spanish books and started watching the Spanish channel. I recognize roughly one word every two minutes. Usually a number. Like when they are doing the weather and they show the numbers on the screen while they say them. I'll let you know how this turns out. If it works, and I become conversationally fluent, then all I have to do is invent some way I'll actually need to use it. Like...visiting Mexico.

I went rock climbing last week at an indoor rock gym. All of the little details made me miss Go Vertical in philly. For example, here we had to tie our own S knots. In Philly the loops are pre-tied and cauterized into the rope, so that all you have to do is walk up and pop it into your carabiners. I'm awesome at that. Also in Philly the top rope is double looped through a pulley at the top, which adds friction and makes the fall less scary. Here, the rope goes through nothing but two carabiners. No pulley. No extra friction. If the person belaying you screws up, you're in for some sudden motion. If you suck at tying knots you're in for a lot of sudden motion. Also, the walls were rated easier out here. Back home I was climbing 5.7's. Here I climb 5.9's. Nice boost to the ego. My goal is to go regularly, learn how to lead climb, and then go climb some real rock when the weather gets nicer.

I signed a lease for an apartment. Come March I will be moving...down the hall. It was nice to not have to go out and actually look for a place. There is even a garage for my ninja. Also the cute girl that works in the office rides sportbikes. She probably has a boyfriend.

Speaking of girls...I haven't really met any. Went dancing again, and there were more guys than girls. And I didn't know anyone. And there were few attractive girls close to my age. I tried cragislist, thinking maybe girls who live near Microsoft and Google and Amazon would be more computer savvy, but didn't have much luck there either. I might try some league sports, like volleyball. I'd be all over indoor soccer but it would probably kill me. Aside from that, I don't have any good ideas yet. Maybe something involving texas hold'em. When I've been at my job for a few more weeks and start being productive I'll feel out the best way to take a day off here and there. By that time my stuff will get there and I can go skiing and flying again. I need to pick a flight school.