I'm now working at a new job. Yes, that's right, I am no longer a professional tourist wrangler (that also means less amusing stories about old people on vacation). Now I'm working at North Star Hospital (an acute care psychiatric hospital for kids 3-17) as the Administrative Assistant to the Nursing Department. Right up my alley. Currently my job involves me following around the Director of Nursing and doing whatever she tells me to do. She's awesome though, so it's not as bad as it sounds. Soon I will be doing her bidding in the mornings and then answering phones on the Children and Pre-teen units in the evening.
In non-work related business, I just returned to the great frigid state of Alaska from a fantastic vacation. I went to Portland, OR to visit a friend from college and then we drove down to Santa Barbara, CA for my dad and Paula's non-Alaska Wedding Bash. We left Portland at about 12:30pm on Oct 24, stopped in Eugene, OR to have coffee with a friend and then continued on south for another 8 hours. That got us to Sacramento where we thought we would spend the night. We decided we would drive past downtown to try and find a hotel in the interest of possibly saving money. That was a bad assumption. Apparently every hotel in Sacramento is just North of downtown. So we drove South for another 45 minutes until we arrived in Lodi, CA. We stayed the night listening to the trucks parked at the truck stop next door idle their engines and honk their horns with a little bit of ambient highway noise in the background. The next day we were on the road before 9am. We ate lunch at In-n-Out burger in Gilroy and then met my dad and Paula in San Luis Obispo for coffee before we all headed to Santa Barbara. We then spent four absolutly fantastic days in Santa Barbara shopping, going to the beach and working on our tans, hanging out with my family, partying it up, and eating too much. We both enjoyed Santa Barbara so much that we stayed until the last possible minute. Thus, we got up at 4:30 am on Monday Oct. 30 and drove for 16 hours straight to get back to Portland in time for Margaret to go to work at 9am on Tuesday morning and for me to fly home on Tuesday night.
The sight of our future beach shack
The result of this vacation is that Margaret and I are going to move to California and live in a shack on the beach.
That's the update.
