June 18

  Holy Moses -- this moving business is a logistical nightmare. But one I am undertaking with a song in my heart. I'm talking to a nice old lady in a town about 20 miles away (plus closer to work) about renting her spare room. She's a 70 year old retired widow, vaguely Italian, a grandmother, and best of all, totally normal. I'm checking the place out Wednesday and blowing the fascist popsicle stand I currently call home as soon as possible. Take my remaining rent, take my security deposit, just give me my sanity back.

  Learned from the other tenant that there actually is a free-range chicken farm under my window, the products of which the landlord will try to sell you at any available opportunity. LL's going on a trip at the end of the month and wants us to take care of the chickens in his absence. He asked the other tenant, but then considered I might be a better choice because I don't habitually sleep til noon and then disappear (true:  I habitually sleep til the libraries open and then disappear). LL hasn't actually said anything to be about it yet, but at this point I feel my only response could be something to the tune of "liiiiiiiiiiiike hell".

  I found a guy on Couchsurfing who's willing to let me crash at his place in White Plains (20 miles from work) this Tues. and possibly Wed. I'm sure it's legit -- he's vouched for on the site and has hosted plenty of surfers -- but I've never met anyone through CS before and will def not be telling anyone at home what I'm up to. My only worry is that I'll run out of things to say to this dude and he'll have second thoughts about letting me steal his conveniently located futon.

  I looked on CS when I got here to see if I could meet up with anyone and make some friends locally.  One guy looked like a good bet until I read his couch info: "I live in a yurt on an herb farm." In theory, this sounds interesting. In reality, I am in a different America and unsure of how to navigate. A yurt -- is this real?!

  It's the first bright sunny day in awhile (and over 80 degrees -- wow!), so the whole town has turned out in shorts and sandals for what they mistakenly believe is hot summer weather. When the library closes I'm heading down to the rail trail to do some letterboxing and maybe on to some boxes at the truly ridiculous hotel called the Mohonk Mountain House.

  Pictures if I don't die! Although probably there would be pictures if I do as well.