Baltimore Bound

That is what I wanted to write in shoe polish across my rear window as I headed east on March 30, 2007 at 5am.

It was such a big move for me, and I felt like everyone should know. I was moving, all by myself, to Baltimore, the second most violent city in the US, where I knew absolutely no one. Shouldn't everyone think that this was as equally amazing and momentous as I did? I was leaving Texas, family, friends, and everything familiar, to set off on my own path. (I was also trying to escape the terribly hot Texas summers.) Leaving almost everything behind, I packed only what I could fit into my Explorer and took off not knowing when I would return.

And Texas was sad to see me go. Or at least that was the way it felt as she displayed all of her beauty and uniqueness in the wildflower lined highways. I felt like she was trying to charm me into staying. There is nothing so beautiful as Texas in the spring.

Other states on my drive were not without their own charm. During my drive through the mountains in Tennessee, I had to call home and ask my mother why my family, ever so long ago, had not ended their journey west in eastern Tennessee. I love mountains, and Tennessee has some beautiful ones. Maybe, when this is all over, I will look into settling there.

I drove 17 hours the first day, staying the night in a small Tenn town. That left a shorter, more manageable drive for day two. I, unfortunately hit DC traffic at 4pm that Friday and sat inching forward for about an hour or so. It is a good thing I was not in a hurry to get anywhere. And, at least, the traffic was not as terrible as my last DC encounter picking Brittney up from Reagan airport at 5pm on a Friday afternoon. (5 miles in 1.5 hours, aarg!) None the less, I now avoid DC on Friday afternoons.

I ended my journey east on Kent Island, part of the eastern shore, and settled into the basement of a now dear friend, Jana.