It All Happened So Fast

April Part One

May 05, 2026

This month I made the decision to go on a 30 day solo “backpacking” trip across America, via the Amtrak system. Well, I made this decision a few summers ago when Ex Roommate did this same run, but then kept pushing my own excursion off to later. Now later has come and gone, and daydreams have thickened into memories.

Once I decided to follow through with my word, suddenly the cards were all splayed out on the table for me. Just purchase the ticket, procure a backpack, sublease my room, and leave. Leaving is always the easiest part.

Quit my stupid bakery job & filled my cheap backpacking bag with all of the essentials: tank tops & mini skirts & bikinis & other tiny fabrics I’ve thrifted throughout the years. Anticipating a hot & sticky month out west, I strategically only packed a singular pair of pants & a light denim jacket. Proceeded to wear the brown corduroys & the jacket (a hand me down from my mother) every single day for the next thirty days. The mistake didn’t bother me, it felt kinda nice to only have the one option every day. Removed all the excess, removed all the noise.

Things I forgot to pack:

Laptop charger
Contact case
Tampons
Lotion
Extra film rolls
Detergent
Ribbon spools

Things I packed that in retrospect I did not need

4 mini skirts, 3 mini shorts, 2 bikinis
5 different types of cameras. (Polaroid, digi cam, mini camcorder, regular camcorder, film camera) Probably would’ve been fine with like, two.

Didn’t want to live blog because I didn't want live, unsolicited advice on my actions. My slightly irresponsible actions. A “Are you sure this is safe?” made me instinctively grind my teeth and squint my eyes and scoff in annoyance. Got all defensive when I began getting the same sentiments in person from my loved ones, as my send off date loomed closer. Felt like a betrayal. Why is everyone so concerned? Ex-Roommate took this exact same trip a few summers ago, why’s it any different when I do it? I get why it’s different- the me being a lady of it all. Changes things, I guess. Well now that I did it anyways and am typing this safe & sound from the comfort of my home in New York, a proper recounting is due.

New York, New York

Good morning World. I leave for my field trip in three hours and have done next to nothing to prepare. Still need to pack. [Still need to figure out a plan. I think I’m going to Maine. I don’t have anywhere to crash in Maine but I’ve always wanted to go, so I am going to just get there and figure it out once I’ve arrived.] Stalling the inevitable. Once I pack the bag, things become real. Once I step onto the train, things become real. Once I get to my first location, things become real. Think things are already a bit real considering my ticket is purchased, my bedroom is being subleased, and my sleeping arrangements are for the most part coordinated- a mix of crashing with friends/ hostels/ Blog Readers/ Hinge delinquency.

With regards to Hinge delinquency, last night I went on a date with a man who catfished me x3 in height/ appearance/ personality. Managed to last two Moscow Mules before scurrying away to the safety of my Brooklyn home. “I’d love to see you again.” He said. “It was great to meet you!” I replied. Exchanged an awkward side hug before darting down the subway steps and under the turnstile onto the M. Should’ve spent the night packing for my field trip instead, but curiosity got the best of me. Haven’t done anything to prepare really. Just want to distract myself.

My kind neighbor held open the train station gate for me so that I could evade the three dollar fare. She had an unlit blunt perched between her dry lips. “Little lady, where are you going with that bag the size of you?” She drawled. Told her that I’d be gone for a few weeks and that I’ll miss seeing her. She responded, “I’ll miss you too honey, be safe.”

Sitting on the very edge of the plasticky L train seat, the backpack strapped to my person taking up the majority of my available seating square footage.

Sitting in the crowded waiting area of Moynihan Train Hall. The overhead lights feel nauseating.

Few words, few thoughts.

I’ve never been on an Amtrak before. It’s not what I expected. I don’t know what I expected. It all happened real fast. One minute I’m picking at my cuticles in the waiting area and the next the overweight train attendant is asking me in annoyance, “What’s your destination miss?”

And I’m going “Uhhhhhh.”

And he’s going, “Your destination.”

“Uhhhhh.”

“Your stop. Where you’re heading. De-sti-na-tion.”

“…”

“The name of your stop ma’am.” He grows more agitated and my mind grows more blank.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” I continue, into what feels like eternity.

“Oh, Maine! I’m going to Maine.”

Attempted to re-read some Slouching Towards Bethlehem but my eyes couldn’t focus on the pages, and so instead I am now picking at a bag of freeze dried mandarins. My wired headphones are shoved in my ears & playing nothing at all. The man seated next to me has the window seat & I keep trying to sneak looks out at the view, but I feel like my glances are bothering him.

Boston, MA

Accidentally drifted off to sleep, face burrowed in my arms on the fold out table. Woke up disoriented & in a puddle of my drool. Realized my mistake. Missed my transfer to get to Maine. Told the conductor that I maybe, accidentally, missed my connection and she sweetly stamped my ticket to let me get on the next connecting train that would come in a few hours. Easy fix. But I then thought to myself, well why not just stay here for the day? In Boston? So I thanked the conductor and slipped off the train into Boston’s South Station train hall. Sat on a ledge outside the building, google-ing “hostels near me”, typing in my credit card information to the first one I found, and walking the seventeen minutes over to tonights abode. That was easy. Feels good. Feel like a free bird. Going with the flow, or something like that. Ex Roommate 1, Henry1 , was keeping tabs on my location and texted me approximately 10 minutes after setting my bags down at the accommodation: are you staying at that one hostel in Chinatown?

Yes. Lol I missed my connection to Maine. I responded.

He reassured me that he’s stayed in this same hostel too. Beautiful. Checked his location and saw that his dot was a block away from my apartment. What are you doing in my neighborhood? I texted him. He replied that he’s officially just signed a lease on an apartment and we are officially neighbors once more. Amazing news.

This hostel feels AI generated. Has more of an adult summer camp vibe than I’m personally seeking from a place to rest my head at night. Bulletin boards advertising group bonding mixers and soiree’s, large wall decals plastered on every surface doting phrases such as:

not all who wander are lost

and

life’s a journey, not a destination.

First night notes:

First time in a hostel. Sitting in on one of their “nightly mixers” to assess the vibe and am surrounded by a bunch of very normal, average people who I’ve met a million times before in my lifetime. These people are my neighbors, coworkers, friends, teachers, & different versions of me.
Made small talk in the common area with a guy who was wearing a Life is Pain South Park t-shirt. Couldn’t figure out if it was in an ironic way or a freak way. Contemplated a pointless flirtation and then snapped myself out of that one immediately. Vulnerable moment to be contemplating a flirtation with a man in a South Park t-shirt. Was just an intrusive thought. The kinda intrusive thought you get when you’re in a random new environment in a random new state.
Realized that I maybe, definitely, overpacked. Have too much stuff on my person and my shoulder blades are stinging & my mind is racing.

Next morning. Sitting in Quincy Market in Faneuil Hall. It’s supposed to be a “Boston must-see” but it’s just a food hall. Sitting at a corner table, word vomiting to my camcorder. Tables are packed out with families and students. It’s loud enough in here that I can be as loud as I please without feeling annoying about the talking-to-a-camera of it all. Talking to a camera feels bad right now, but for continuity purposes and vanity purposes and a teeny tiny amount of cash lining my pockets purposes, it feels like I should see this through, just in case. Think I would regret not doing it while on a month long trip. Feels bad in the moment, but nice to look back on. I like to remind myself that most good things feel bad in the moment but are nice to reap the rewards from.

A half chewed wad of nicotine gum is pressed into the back of my ear. Just reached my fingertips to grab it and only felt sticky flesh in its place. It must’ve fell off sometime in my walk from the hostel over to the market. Oops. Hostel-ing was fine last night, but today I’ve done some Hinge research and tonight my new friend **** is hosting me. I informed him that I am kinda just looking for somewhere to crash and he replied that he has a couch and I said sold! Getting awesome vibes from ****. I am not nervous about meeting ****, my nerves lie in the concept of taking the train to his neighborhood, Stony Brook, a suburb a few minutes outside of Boston, and then proceeding to be ghosted by him and then being like, totally stranded in this random neighborhood in this random state. Don’t want to prove the voices of concern in my life right. Maybe won’t let them know that day two is already a hinge crash day. I want to explore more of Boston, what else is a girl to do than to utilize her resources?

Being a teeny irresponsible, but I think that it’s a healthy enough dose to get done what needs to get done. I have things to see & experience here. What? I’m not quite sure, but that is what I am here to find out. I feel pretty today. Wearing my black quarter sleeve brandy top & brown corduroy pants & my moms denim jacket. Excited to be out west soon and to be wearing a whole lot less. Men are very kind to me in Boston. Random men keep speaking to me. I’m thinking that it’s mostly attributed to the eyesore of my comically oversized backpack that I’m lugging around. As soon as I walked through the food hall’s entrance, a man told me that he hopes a beautiful woman like me has a blessed day. God, I hope so too.

Could tell that **** & I would get along nicely because as soon as I exited the train hall, I made eye contact with him and immediately thought to myself: This is a gay man.

Then he spoke his thoughts out loud, telling me, “I’m surprised that you’re straight. You kinda have like, a lesbian vibe.” I responded, “What do you mean by that?” A laugh escaping from between my lips. He goes, “I dunno. Maybe it’s the eyebrow ring. Or the shoes.” He pointed to the silver flats that Ruby gifted to me. Like, valid.

**** is a software engineer, AKA he is loaded. Score! We walked through the adorable downtown of his neighborhood and I made him hold my camcorder & record my rambling as we explored the area. We walked around a vintage clothing store where the owner took polaroids of us to put on the wall. Afterwards, **** bought me a very nice Thai dinner (thank you ****).

Really liked listening to him talk about his job because he framed it as an artistry first, science second. Coding, analyzing, data inputting, anything can be an art form if you seek it out to be, he reasoned. He referred to software engineering as poetic and I thought that the way that he described it in itself was very poetic.

Tonight has been sweet so far. No other reason would I be finding myself in this random town in Boston with a random person who is so interesting and neat. His name is **** and he is 24 years old. Typing this while he is in the shower and I am sitting on the floor of his bedroom, petting his kitty. My shoulder blades are pulsing from the heaviness of my backpack.

After dinner, **** suggested that we go on a walk in the park by his neighborhood. Sounded lovely to me! The sun had set, there was minimal street lighting, and the park was completely devoid of human life, sans the two of us. I only pieced this jarring realization together as we were already walking along the long, secluded path.

48 hours in and I’ve already found myself walking through a dimly lit, empty park, with a random man who I have just met off the internet. Oops. Perhaps the voices of concern had some merit to them after all. Well, we finished our walk & nothing bad happened & went back to his apartment where still nothing bad happened. Thank you World. In retrospect, not my brightest idea. Back at his apartment I trimmed his hair & we sat on his couch, drinking tea and talking, talking, talking away.

Portland, Maine

Leaving Boston & my new friend ****. Taking the bus into Portland, Maine today. Since I missed my stop into Maine originally, I don’t want to waste another rail pass on a stop that is so close to the previous destination. Need to conserve my rail passes for the longer journeys out west. The Amtrak pass lets you hop on & off the train 10 times in 30 days, so I need to be strategic with my timing/ usage.

Notes from Maine

Rainy, dreary, not quite what I had pictured
Booked a solo hostel room. Felt nice to have a room to myself, to get myself situated on what’s in store for me in the month ahead.
Lost: two hair ties, my tweezers, my favorite pen.
Didn’t speak to very many people. Didn’t pass by anyone in the accommodation but could hear chatter behind their doors.
Ate a haddock fish sandwich & read Didion at a diner by the water. Waitress was not interested in speaking to me which like, so fair- been there myself. Paid my bill and walked down a random dock for all of 30 seconds before I retreated back to the hostel. Freezing and unsure of my decisions.
Need to just be, just be, need to just be.

Connecticut

From Maine I took a bus to Boston, and then transferred onto a train to Connecticut. I am taking this train to meet up with Amelie at her childhood home. The timing of my trip worked out perfectly, aligning with her spring break from school.

So excited to see her hometown. Excited to meet her family. See her Connecticut life.

My hair is puffy and my eyes are puffy and I’m feeling a bit irritable, but I think that seeing her will kinda cure me & lift the spirits.

When I got off the train, the first thing I saw was Amelie frantically talking to a conductor, erratically waving her arms around. Could hear her voice carrying over the breeze, “My friend is supposed to get off on this stop, but I don’t see her! Where is she?” I started waving my arms so that she could see me, a few train cars away. “Amelie!” I yelled out. She ran over to me & we acted like we hadn’t seen each other in months (it’s been maybe four days): hugging and jumping and shrieking and interlocking our frantic arms. We walked like that the entire way home from the station, grins plastered on our faces.

Spent my time in Connecticut as follows: I drank a lot and ate a lot and talked a lot and slept a lot and did a whole lot of lounging around.

Connecticut Notes

Easter Sunday today. Sitting at Amelie’s dining table. Nursing a mug of organic drip coffee topped with heavy cream. Her dad is preparing a feast of a dinner, fresh loaves of sourdough, fish crudités, roasted Brussel sprouts, & a glazed ham that Amelie & I keep eyeing down.
Wearing my long, floral dress as my easter appropriate garment. Wore this dress yesterday without thinking anything of it, because I forgot that today would be easter, so now I am outfit repeating. Amelie is pacing around as I type, she’s wearing a big cheetah print fur coat, her long, floral easter dress, and her theraspects- these oversized red tinted glasses that she swears by to cure her headaches. Let Amelie’s little sister wear my black brandy midi skirt last night out at the bar and she looked so cute in it.
Met Amelie’s grandmother and she clasped my hands and welcomed me into an embrace, “Well, you must be the girl on tour!” On tour! Well, I guess so.
They have a scraggly dog named Pepper who is old and frail and perfect. Pepper has been curling up with me every night, nestled against the crook of my knee. Whenever I shift in my sleep, Pepper follows. I’m hungry and I want more coffee, but this is not my home so I am not going to eat more of their food and pour myself another cup of their coffee, despite really, really, wanting both of these items. This trip has made me notice how much I truly consume. Things are kinda out of balance in Diana World. I consume and consume and consume in excess. Excited to slow down. Consume less. Not in a disordered way, but in a World equilibrium is out of balance way.
Everything in Amelie’s home is clean and organic and lovely and fresh. Her & her sister are prepping me for how easter dinner is gonna go, because her New England family is ultra-liberal, ultra-anti-MAGA, ultra politically involved. I’ve only sat around holiday tables with the opposite end of that spectrum, with the Florida of it all. Will be interesting to observe. I’m excited for this new experience, I’ve never been in a home like this before. I love witnessing peoples homes, the innards of their lives, how different it can be from mine, and any life I’ve ever known.

8 am. Peeled myself off of the pullout couch & slipped on her fathers jacket hanging on the mantle before making my way out to the backyard, a mug of drip coffee in one hand and my notebook in the other. Perched in the grass, staring out at the creek for a while before migrating over to to the little metal picnic table. Pepper is at my feet looking up at me with little beady eyes. My camcorder is recording me, balanced in a nearby bush. Amelie’s mom is paying me $20 an hour to clean the first level of their home this week, which is a makeshift apartment for her little sister.

Filmed a short, semi-incoherent clip that I immediately wiped from my SD card. I spoke about how foreign it feels, being in this New England home. Seeing her fathers library, witnessing her families dynamic. I’ve never spoken to adults like this before, and yet they are wholly the same as the adults who I am familiar with. I don’t know. Need to get inside and get to work. Want to hold off on breakfast. Feels nice to not give into my consuming, consuming, consuming, desire. Feels nice to just sit here as I am. Just some coffee and vitamins swirling around in my stomach right now. It’s 10:44 am. I don’t want to go back to New York. I don’t want to go to Florida. I want to stay here, in Connecticut, lounging around in this frozen piece of time where everything is calm and still and everyone shares my same opinions. I don’t want to go back inside. I don’t want to clean the apartment or organize my backpack or brush my teeth or mess with my bangs or do anything at all.

I love watching Amelie interact with her family. I picture how differently I would’ve handled certain interactions, had I been in her shoes. When her & her mom started bickering, I would’ve completely shut down in tears, silent treatment ensuing. She just hugged her mom in such an empathetic way and they exchanged I love you’s and talked through the problem right then and there. It was a gorgeous sight to see. It made me feel jealous. It made me feel confused. It made me feel stubborn. Strange to see a situation play out in front of you, where none of the actions taken are decisions that you yourself would have made, and yet those actions led to a better outcome than you could have ever predicted.

Already a week into this journey. Wow. Hasn’t been much of a journey, I don’t think. More-so vacation with a random hinge guy and a hostel and another and crashing at Amelie’s. Curled up on her couch with her puppy Pepper at my feet. He is not a puppy, he is about to croak, but he might as well be a puppy. Puppy vibe.

Amelie’s Connecticut life is kinda picture perfect. Her home, her friends, her family. I should go home to Florida after this. My own picture perfect life awaits me there. Still mulling it over, the Florida of it all. Can’t yet tell what the right course of action will be. I’ve been lazing around Connecticut, the days are all blurring together. What am I doing here? Keep thinking, I want a life just like this. Well, here I am sitting at the dining table- am I not living a life just like this? I’m here, aren’t I?

Her friends are so beautiful. It felt nice when the four of us were walking outside of that bookstore and this lady recognized her one friend ****. The lady did a double take and said to her, “It’s no surprise that you’re surrounded by beautiful friends just like yourself. The four of you are just absolutely gorgeous.” That did feel really nice. She was right. I looked around and we were indeed a very beautiful group of girls. Everyone’s tender & well spoken & makes me feel warm all over. Staring at this cute picture of Amelie’s little sister hung up on the wall of their sitting room. It’s a b&w photo of her as a toddler, running through a forest. My phone buzzed and Pepper jumped right up off my lap.

I should leave Connecticut soon, I know I’m overstaying my welcome but it feels so nice to just laze around and escape my real world. Maybe I can just forget about this whole backpacking thing and start a new life here, in Connecticut. How different I would’ve turned out if this had been my life, I think to myself.

2:49 pm. Sitting at the dining table across from Amelie. Drinking a mug of pour over coffee topped with heavy whipping cream. My mug that I’ve been using every morning has a heart made out of a bunch of little music notes.

5:57 pm. Binge eating leftover easter cake. Her grandmother came over and we’ve sat at the dining table for the past 45 minutes, speaking about Facebook scammers and July 6th. I am going to show self restraint by not having another slice of cake even though I really want one. Trying to not make eye contact with it. Typing this out instead over & over in my notes app: I promise to not eat another slice of cake. I promise to not eat another slice of cake. I promise to not eat another slice of cake.

Amelie interrupted my typing loop to show me a news notification on her phone.

She called out to her dad, “Dad! Did you see this?” Showing him the tweet. He gave us the rundown, “I’ve been feeling apprehensive all day. We can watch the news together after my tai-chi lesson if you’d like honey.”

How trivial my first world problems feel now. Fixating on trying to not eat more easter cake. I looked up from writing this down and Amelie is crying.

****, ****, Amelie & I are sitting at the cafe that **** works at, nursing teas & drip coffee’s, giggling at everything & anything. A sweet old man called out to the four of us, Young ladies, the sound of your laughter is beautiful. I haven’t heard laughter in ages. There’s been no laughter in my house anymore for a loooong, long time.

**** told us that the old man and his wife used to be regulars at this cafe, but then the wife got dementia & became homebound, and I guess that’s when the laughter & the smiles stopped too.

The owner of ****’s cafe is a gangly looking man who’s got a firm grip on a Budweiser bottle in one hand and manning the cash register with the other. Season of the Witch is softly playing from the speakers. He’s wearing a cowboy hat and reminds me of home. Long straggly hair and tight pants with cheetah print boots on his feet. We got to the topic of Florida and he goes, I remember when I lived in Florida. Was there for three months once I got out of the service. I lived off of fish, rice, and beans. Oh and beer. Can’t forget the beer.

11:08 am Came inside from writing in Amelie’s backyard. Think it is my fourth day in Connecticut. I can’t remember. Time has been flowing by. We have been using our mornings to play a game that we made up that has resulted in a poem, of sorts.

Toothy grin radiates the

porous nest in fragments that

flew haywire across the yard.

pepper these sentiments

ribbons threaded tightly

George in my grasp

hair tie marks imprinted after sleeping

mannerisms stapled mechanic & rigid

anthill crossed tenderly with closed eyes

swirly violet recyling piled high

lenient timing abound

grass on our heels

cande wax sensation

clockwise rotations we revealed

creation stint suggests

river glint sticking to the sky

Connecticut to Ohio, Overnight Train Day

I spent too long in Connecticut. Bad. That was bad. I got tempted and now I feel guilty that I spent so much time lounging around and vacationing in paradise when I am supposed to be “backpacking.” That last morning, her dad goes, “You’re still here?” A surprised look on his face. God, what am I doing? Why did I do that? I shouldn’t have done that. He continues, “I don’t mind, stay as long as you’d like, I’m just surprised you’re not out there!” Why am I not out there? I get so excited to hang out with Amelie and then days have flown by and I didn’t even realize it. I am here, lounging around, eating her parents groceries, drinking her parents coffee, drinking her parents booze.

It’s time to go. Leaving New England now. Sitting on a train to New York where I will have a three hour layover before I go to my next destination. Keep having the intrusive thought of, okay, what if I just went home? Obviously won’t do that, especially since I am renting my room out to Jude, so I don’t technically even have a room in New York this month, it just is nice to think about. The concept of giving up. Quitting while you’re ahead. Listening to David Allan Coe in my headphones. His 1975 album, Once Upon a Rhyme. I feel anxious and want to stop feeling this way. Hate that the more experiences I have, the more opportunities I have to make mistakes. Tired of making mistakes. I was being a bitch to Amelie for no reason that final day in town. Ganged up on her with her grandma. Her grandma has a PHD in psychology and the three of us were sitting at breakfast, and her grandmother was essentially implying that depression is a choice and I was essentially backing her up even though I didn’t mean it because it is easier to back someone up even if you don’t agree with them rather than to argue, but then I looked up at Amelie’s crumpled up face and I just wanted to take it all back. Her features are so soft and tender. I feel bad for being snippy towards her the way that I would get snippy towards redacted when we would travel together. Oftentimes it is me, playing the part of the antagonist. I am self aware enough to see this, and yet my actions don’t change when I get all flustered and disconcerted.

Praying that the tough love I’ll be giving myself the next three weeks will allow for me to shape up a bit and not repeat my same mistakes. I hope that this upcoming day long leg I’m about to do does me some good. Feeling nervous about it, this feels like the actual start of my trip, everything else kinda just felt like vacation. I don’t really wanna sit here and do a whole lotta self reflection. Disappointed in how much I didn’t read and didn’t edit and didn’t film and didn’t write. How much I ate. How much I took. Hate when I act like a huge taker. I feel a bit shameful. In this gorgeous, oversized, New England home. I feel stupid. I didn’t realize how normal these homes are. More and more of them are passing by my sightline as I stare out the window of this train.

We’re entering the city now. My heart is racing and I wish it would stop that nonsense. Next one is my stop. My music is off and my nail beds are picked raw. Reflecting on my unkind tendencies.

Sitting in the dining car on the train. An npc looking man has approached the goth girl sitting behind me. She has a green pixie cut and little cat ears on her head. He struck up conversation with a, “So what do you do?” She responded that she works at a sex shop and politely asked him what he does.

“I play basketball.”

“Oh cool! Professionally?” (He was short).

“No like, for fun.”

“Oh.” Awkward pause. “Normally when people ask you what you do it’s like, your profession.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay well, good meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Purchased a $3 bag of pretzels so that I could ask the cafe attendant for a cup of hot water to make instant oatmeal in. Oatmeal has never tasted better in my life. Train days result in lots of instant oatmeal & instant matcha & instant ramen & granola bars & pretzels & endless cups of green tea.

5:14 pm Train has been slouching its way up the Hudson River for hours. So scenic. Watercoloring & listening to Sword II. Texting Ex Roommate Henry about my travels so far. He asked me what my next stop will be & now we’re gabbing, but every other gab I keep texting him, “Okay, no more!” I want to save our stories for when we’re back together in the city. Can’t believe we’re gonna be back together in the city. I am so excited to be back together in the city.

Took out my earbuds & swapped them for some little orange disposable earplugs instead to block out the conversations of those around me. Need silence. The Hudson turned into wetlands and it reminds me of Florida, ‘cept for the mountains in the background. Keep trying to take pictures of what my eyes are seeing but they can’t quite capture the moment.

Toledo, Ohio

The teenage barista at this Ohio coffee shop has been on the phone for the past 10 minutes despite making eye contact with me as soon as I walked through the door.

I’m the only customer in here.

I think I may have made a mistake with this Ohio thing.

Few hours later. Parallel in bed in my hostel, reading George Orwell. Questioning whatever decisions I’ve made that have led me to be in this random hostel in this random city in this random state.

Toledo, Ohio to Ann Arbor, Michigan

9:45 am. Just scrambled out of bed, shoved my belongings into my backpack, running out the door and across Toledo, making my way over to the only bus of the day out of this small town. Didn’t realize that this would be the only bus of the day. My plan was to hide out in bed until noon, which is exactly what I was doing up until 16 minutes ago when I curiously checked the bus schedule to plan out my afternoon, and realized my mistake. Darted over to the station with my oversized backpack thudding on my back & made it onboard with 60 seconds to spare.

Am now sitting here, sweat droplets running down the back of my neck. Need to hit like, a Panera bread or a Starbucks or something stupid like that to brush my teeth and brush my hair and swallow my vitamins and swallow my pride.

The bus driver bellows out to us passengers, “No illegal substances on the bus, ya’ll hear me? If you got it on ya, wait to smoke it till we off. this. bus. Ya hear?”

Ann Arbor, Michigan

I’m sitting at a little red table outside of this cafe, Roos Roast, nursing a whole milk cortado with nutmeg sprinkled on top. Perfect. Asked for a cup half filled with water for my oatmeal packet.

The two people siting next to me are having a woke-off and I would’ve found them annoying in any context outside of this one. In this one I find them cute & refreshing & exactly what I want to see. All lively & energetic and regurgitating lines from instagram carousels that I’ve scrolled past time & time again. Still a nice parallel to empty Toledo. They’re talking about how embarrassment is all in your head. “People are soooo worried about being nonchalant these days, be challant! Show that you care.” It’s like I’m scrolling on my phone but with my ears & my eyes & in the real world instead. Nice.

I almost sat inside of the cramped coffee shop where everyone is shoulder to shoulder, but the sun is shining so beautifully outside. God they actually will not shut the fuck up. No, let me be good. They sound kind. Annoying, but kind.

I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning’s oatmeal, but I feel good. It’s strange, I gorged myself at Amelie’s house, my greedy fingers raiding her parents pantry, my hunger felt so insatiable. But now that feeding myself is up to me again, ie. scavenging for hot water to boil my instant oatmeal, my hunger has all but dissipated. Ideally I’d like to not spend money on food unless there is a solid purpose for it, besides hunger.

Purposes I tend to look for:

Sharing a meal with others
The opportunity to speak to the waitstaff
Having a third place to loiter in. Specially if there are outlets and ice water.

I wouldn’t care to order this cortado if it weren’t for the access that it grants me to sit at this little red table and write in my notebook and eavesdrop on the conversations going on next to me. I could’ve just as easily sat in the park and made a cup of instant matcha in my water bottle for my caffeine fix, an act that I’ve participated in time & time again. Money grants you access to community. My precious $3.75 allows for me to loiter here in peace. Was about to smoke another cigarette but now there is a homeless man with a speaker and I don’t want him to ask me for one. Being stingy. Would normally share but like, gotta look out for me right now. Already halfway through the pack I purchased in Connecticut.

The pair next to me are ranting about their roommates now. From an outside perspective, they are clearly in the wrong but trying to convince themselves otherwise. Bemoaning that their roommates are hounding them about doing the dishes and doing a better job at cleaning up after themselves, but they think that they are doing a “good enough job.”

Why did the vibe switch immediately once those people left? Those people left and this homeless man with a speaker appeared and my urge to smoke another cigarette appeared and I took a break from rapid fire pen to paper and thought about my long winded phone call with Jude earlier and want to just cry & cry. Plugged my headphones in & pressed shuffle on my liked songs. Dreams by The Cranberries like a mantra in my ears,

Oh, my life

Is changing’ every day

In every possible way

And oh, my dreams

It’s never quite as it seems

Never quite as it seems

Let myself cry & cry a bit. Just looked up and made eye contact with the no smoking sign that I saw earlier but chose to ignore. Lighting another cigarette. Being debaucherous to be debaucherous. Jude over the phone kept saying, “Let’s be messy, just be messy.” I don’t want to be messy, I want for things to go back to how they were. They’re trying to convince me to come with them to patronize the bar that redacted works at and I am firm on my No but they keep pressing, but let’s just be messy! No, no, no!

We spoke on the phone for an hour and some change after I got off the bus. They were drinking a beer at the airport, on their way to my apartment, while I on the other end of the line sat outside this cafe, staring at my cortado, letting it go cold. Sometimes I wonder if Jude & I’s relationship is contingent on this shared heartbreak, namely us sharing redacted and redacted. The way it is all intertwined ‘cause we were all inseparable and now we are actually very separable and it’s just the two of us left clinging to each other for comfort.

Jude was like, “I know I shouldn’t bring it up, but you know-” and I cut them off, “Yes, I know,” and then I tried to get more intel even though of course I know about this, of course I do, but the confirmation just made me want to absolutely shrivel up and disappear.

My hands are very shaky. I should eat my oatmeal. I feel shameful.

Chewing on my nails again. There’s a permanent burn mark on the flesh right below my left index finger from the bakery job I had just quit. Needed extra cash to cushion my trip.

I like the rings forming around my little cortado cup. I’ve been nursing my drink so slowly that every time I take a sip, a little brown line of espresso marks its spot from my last sip. My coffee is icy cold. I’m not sure how long I’ve been out here. I’m supposed to meet up with the girl hosting me at 4pm, a time I suggested because I wanted time to “get some work done” and the work in question is just gossiping on the phone with Jude & chain smoking Marlboro Gold’s.

Conversation I just overheard of two girls walking past my table:

“Apparently your stomach acid is stronger than battery acid.”

“What’s battery acid?”

She paused.

“Like… The acid that they put in batteries.”

“Oh. Ew.”

I looked up and made eye contact with a girl walking over to my table. She’s in these really cute capri leggings and flip-flops and a little tank top and her skin is peppered in American trad tattoos. So gorgeous. This must be the girl who is hosting me. I wasn’t entirely sure what she’d look like because we only met briefly over FaceTime, and I’ve FaceTimed so many girls that they’ve all kinda blended together as one archetype.

I kept asking her questions that I’ve definitely already asked her before, like where she lives, and if she has roommates, and how old she is, and she patiently re-answered all of them. Felt like the girl who didn’t know what battery acid was.

***** took me to a restaurant where we got seated on the patio, and our server was this boy who couldn’t have been older than 20. Said to ***** who I had just met all but twenty minutes ago, “don’t judge me” and ordered myself an afternoon beer/shot combo, ‘cause I was feeling all out of sorts. She ordered herself a beer as well which made me feel better. After our server dropped off our plates he walked by the table, “Tasting good?” Made eye contact with our untouched plates and the camcorder that I shoved in *****’s hands to film me. “Real.” He said. We all started giggling & he cleared my shot glass out of the way.

***** & I get along so naturally. She’s sweet and bubbly and ramble-y and I’m happy to have a new friend. This staying-with-internet-strangers thing is going better than I had anticipated.

I go, “This whole Ann Arbor experience has been very-”

In unison we go, “serendipitous.”

Yes!!! Exactly that.

It’s later in the evening & *****’s cat is stuck behind the dishwasher and ***** is inconsolably crying. Unsure of what to do in this situation. Watching YouTube tutorials titled: How to unscrew a dishwasher, *EASY* *Beginner Friendly*

Couldn’t do it. Called the nonemergency line who were no help & animal control who were no help & watched more YouTube tutorials which were no help. Okay, what the hell? What do we do? It’s midnight & we feel helpless and the cat is making all these pitiful little scared noises. I go, “Well, redacted’s dad is like, a contractor. I could call him?” And she goes “YES. Call him.”

So I called redacted’s parents in Florida and they picked up on the first ring and they were out at a bar. I could hear the music and the giggles in the background and they could hear the concern in my voice as I asked them for help. They immediately jumped into parent mode and his dad gave us an over-the-phone tutorial on how to unscrew the dishwasher and turn off the breaker and turn off the water supply and we exchanged I love you’s and I miss you’s after I thanked them profusely for their help. ***** was too nervous to turn off the breaker because she was scared that doing so would electrocute the kitty & the washer was still too heavy for us to unscrew, so ***** called up her ex situation-ship who lived an hour away as a final resort to come rescue the kitty who stopped making the horrible noises and fell silent instead which felt much worse. It was 1 am at this point and ex situation-ship sped over to the rescue. I pretended to be asleep on the couch while he freed the kitty who is now safe & sound.

Train to Oklahoma

9:50 am. Woke up on the train. Today is a full train day. Just peeled my eyes open & removed my neck pillow. Used my long floral dress as a blanket of sorts and put on pants under my skirt ‘cause I am freezing.

Brushed my teeth & washed my face & changed into my courderoys & quarter sleeve. My uniform at this point. Made my way over to the dining car where I’ll be setting up camp for a while. Ordered a cup of coffee & a cup of hot water for my oatmeal.

Nothing but miles & miles of thick forest brush for the past few hours. Finally the trees opened up to a field that opened up to a singular building, out here all alone. A prison where all the inmates were out in the courtyard, wearing their orange jumpsuits and waving at us enthusiastically. We blew each other kisses before they were back out of my sightline and the forest enveloped the train car once more.

My next location is Oklahoma City. 1 step closer to LA. Need to stop thinking like that, and yet. Just so excited. Excited to see Max & Ella and to be out west and to have the sun kissing my skin.

I could be on this train forever if it wasn’t for the Money of it all. Beautiful view out my window. The thick forest turned into grassy fields that have stretched for miles and miles into the distance. Time’s at a standstill in this little train car. There is a beautiful man in my peripheral but he caught me taking a dumb video of the grassy fields. Lowered my evil iPhone in shame and picked up my pen and started writing again but he’s not looking anymore. Fuck my dumbass vibe. Gonna selfie now, whatever.

Current dumbass train vibe: reading George Orwell (amazing), listening to Bleary Eyed (also amazing), drinking a cup of green tea sweetened with honey.

Ugh other people are starting to discover the complimentary pretzels. My pretzels. This train was giving out complimentary pretzels ‘cause it’s running on a four hour delay and I’ve been binge eating pretzels all morning, but now I am forced to share my loot with the other passengers. Because of this delay, I will most likely be missing my connecting train that will get me to Oklahoma, because I’m supposed to be transferring in Texas in a few hours. All this scheduling is annoying me to no ends. My scalp feels oily and I need to figure out a place to crash in Texas, just in case.

Instead of missing my connection, Amtrak sent out a private car that will drive me and three strangers across the state line of Texas into Oklahoma.

The passengers of this car include

me
a sweet old lady who calls me baby, her name is Ethel.
2 older men who have mild tweaker energy but are ultimately harmless.
The driver
The driver’s buddy who is sitting passenger, and seems to just be along for the ride.

We loaded our luggages into the trunk & the driver turned his key in the ignition. The older mens eyes were squeezed shut in an attempt to drift off, my paperback was open in my lap, headphones in my ears, the driver & his friend both on their phones. To get our attention Ethel loudly goes, “So. What’s everybody’s names?” And so the six of us proceeded to spend the car ride through Texas into Oklahoma, chatting, chatting, chatting away.

Few hours later. The conversation naturally settled into silence & the men are softly snoring. Storm clouds are rolling in and a pit in my stomach is settling. As I typed that out, rain began to patter against the windshield. Lightning is flashing in the distance. The sun is settling away and the clouds that have taken her place look like mounds of flesh deposit all wrinkled and rolled. Gelatinous fat rolls. God I feel sick, I don’t want to be caught in this stupid rain storm. Why did it become so vicious out of nowhere? My camera gear. My camera gear will not fare well in this storm. It is like a full on torrential downpour now. Oh god, this is bad. Oh, Oklahoma. A forecasted tornado watch is expected to last into all day tomorrow, AKA the only two days that I am here in this state are two days of misery and tears from miss Mother Nature. Checked the weather app and my day of departure has a little sun emoji and an 85 degree sign next to it. Right. Ethel & the men dozed off to sleep & I am watching the movie 12 angry men on my phone that’s on 12%.

Made it to the bus stop & learned that ***, the girl I am staying with, does not have a car. The walk would be an hour, thirty and the rain is still pelting down rhythmically. Can’t get my camera’s wet. Got them wet when I got caught in a rainstorm in Maine and then my camcorder wouldn’t turn on for two days. Okay fine, I’ll call an Uber. 21st century backpacking.

Uber driver skidded his suv to a stop in front of the bus station & I ran out to him in the rain, tossing my backpack in the trunk. The roads are relatively empty & we make it to our first red light where he garbles, Ion know why the light change every time I pull up to it. Nobody here, and it changed to red! Now, I have to do this! Watch.

Uber driver runs the red light, whooping with joy. My eyes widen incredulously. He continues on his rant while I sit there silently, squirming in my seat.

I’d understand if there were people coming but look! Road is empty. Hmf.

He blows through another light, all gas no brakes. To his credit he did look both ways. Well, if the torrential thunderstorm doesn’t take me out, maybe this guy will.

Sped all the way to ***’s house, many minutes shaved off of my ETA. Thanked him & ran through the rain into her apartment complex. She came outside to collect me but we couldn't see each other with all the rain & the wind and it felt quite awkward. Finally she spotted me and I was welcomed into her home. Made myself instant ramen & we sat on her living room floor & talked & talked & talked.

Next Day

Oklahoma’s clouds parted and it is so lovely outside. Thank you world. Thank you miss Mother Nature.

walked around a museum
got burgers
walked more
went to a bookstore & a giftstore
walked more
went to a botanical garden
walked more

Next Day

Today I am in Oklahoma until 9 pm and then taking a bus into Kansas City where I will take a train into Chicago where I will take another bus into Milwaukee. In Milwaukee I will meet up with ***** & her friends. *****’s friend ***** has an art exhibit in Milwaukee tomorrow night, and then finally from there we will drive to Madison, where we will be staying with ******** for the weekend.

Sitting at a cafe across from ***. Tried to edit but I didn’t want to read back my words, so instead I closed my laptop and opened my notebook to jot down a fresh set of words that I won’t want to look back at either. Annoying. Accumulating more and more words that I won’t want to look back at and review. Excited to go to Wisconsin but first need to get my energy levels back up. Feeling drained. It is 1:22 pm. I wish that my train wasn’t so late because I’ve found it increasingly difficult to fall asleep on the overnight train days and then it’s three in the morning and I’m seated upright in my chair- cold & groggy & irritable.

This cafe is a big industrial looking brick room with exposed metal fixtures. Sitting in a corner booth with a window above me and the table is slightly sticky. She lives two blocks from her job where she is a barista, ie. amazing news for me because free coffee and breakfast, thank the lord. I’ve been real glutenous with the syrup flavors from her cafe - banana mocha yesterday, birthday cake today. It had baby blue dyed cold foam and confectionary sprinkles on top and I guzzled it down in .2 seconds. Need to do laundry soon. Need a haircut soon. My bangs are overgrown and I lost my tweezers somewhere between Maine and Michigan and my eyebrows are all unruly & crazed. My backpack smells bad from all my laundry - clean and dirty stuff squished together so everything’s kinda a little rank. I purchased new socks on my last layover in Chicago ‘cause mine were getting disgusting, and the shoes that Ruby gave me are bleeding dye and turning all my socks baby pink. I’m wearing my dirty quarter sleeve brandy top and wrangler cut offs. It’s 2:17 pm. I wanna be alone for a billion years.

Walking the hour, thirty to the bus stop with my backpack in tow. Getting acclimated to this new routine, which is nice. The backpacking of it all. All the walking. Suburbia backpacking.

Train to Wisconsin

There is a beautiful man sitting directly behind me on the train. Dark features, cute patchwork tattoos, long dark messy hair. We’re sitting in the cafe cart and he was seated across from me in one of those chairs that face out towards the scenery, but then he moved to a booth that is directly behind me, so we are now sitting back to back. I don’t think that it means anything, him moving closer, but I want to pretend that it does. Called Amelie to look busy. Feel like I smell kinda bad, wonder if he can notice from where he is seated. I’m showering every chance I get but every chance I get isn’t like, that often. Especially on stints like this, overnights on the train and I had just walked two miles in the sticky, humid heat lugging my backpack, wearing the same clothes on repeat.

The conductor poked me awake this morning and I moaned out a bit in my half awake state. I knew what he wanted from me so I wordlessly opened the barcode for him to scan my train ticket with my sleep mask half over my closed eyes and immediately fell back into a deep unconsciousness. I had hair rollers in and the mask over my eyes and looked ridiculous as ever with a long skirt over my pants for an extra layer of warmth, because I wasn’t prepared for how freezing the train gets at night. Annoying because it is finally shorts and tank top weather now that I'm making it farther out west, and yet I keep finding myself bundled up like it’s a freezing winter day.

Drinking a cup of hot green tea with honey. Keep annoying the concessions people on the train for cup after cup of hot water for my teas and oatmeals and ramen, but they are so kind about my constant requests. I want another cup of hot water to cook a packet of oatmeal, but I don’t want to bother them for free labor twice in a row. Will wait a few hours.

55 minutes until the trains next stop. There’s three older ladies in the booth next to me playing cards, and in front of me are two granola lesbians. The beautiful man is still seated behind me. Passing by long strips of freshly mowed fields. The rare building that floats by my sightline is isolated by all this space, speckled across the arable land.

The man is wearing a nice navy cotton t-shirt and baggy black carpenter pants and really ugly slides that I’m sure are just for comfort (I hope) (Like, so ugly). I’m wearing my: silver flats, brown corduroy pants, and my black brandy quarter sleeve. Obviously.

Just passed by a tiny community of mobile homes & a really small cemetery, beautifully kept, small plot of maybe ten tombstones. Family plot. Lived together, died together, can’t miss anything ‘cause it’s all they’ve ever known. The older ladies just turned to the the granola girls, asking them, “Where are we?” The granola lesbians responded, “Somewhere in Illinois” I checked the map out of curiosity. We are passing through a small town called Wyanet Illinois. Population: 886. This town has: a grocery store, a pub, a church, and not much else.

I’'m going to talk to the man behind me. Whatever. I turned towards him, “Hi, I’m Diana.” “Hi, I’m ******.”

A special thank you to all of the wonderfully kind people who helped me along this journey: ****, *** & her family, *****, ***** & ********, ***, ***, *****, ******** & ******, *** & ******, ******, *******, & *******. Thank you for letting me into your homes & allowing for me to crash on your couches & beds & air mattresses & being wonderful additions to my life, sharing your stories with me, & listening to mine!

Part two soon. Bye bye!

Really Really Normal

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