Still traveling. With this much inertia, it's hard to stop. Yes, I have de facto ownership of a trendy Berkeley Hills apartment and the sport coup outside, but I still find myself at the same museums and wilderness preserves so frequently visited in Parts Unknown. Explore the nearby. It's just as fun, especially if you hail from the Bay Area, and the Legion of Honor hosts an art deco exhibit.

Instead of cleaning hostel bathrooms in exchange for a bed, I walk dogs and wrestle faulty wireless networks. WWOOFing, suburb style. My trip couldn't be bookended with two finer aunts. Nor could those same relatives choose finer real estate. I yammered about Bobbee's digs in August. Now it's Mom's other sister's turn. The pool room boasts views of the Golden Gate bridge, the Trans-America Building, and nighttime Oakland. Even the latter's gorgeous, at distances out of small-arms range. I only need leave the property for sustenance, which local bakeries dish up with upapologeticly organic zeal.

The March San Fransisco weather beats anything I've seen all summer. New Zealand, you should be ashamed of yourself. My bad luck aside... For those of you planning extensive trips: I can't rave about the southern hemisphere's December climate patterns enough. The only thing stopping me from purchasing tickets to Nepal in September are poverty and Nepal's northern hemisphere coordinates.

I wrote me a resumé. I hope employers like puns. Starting from scratch greased the wheels. Compared to the old monstrosity, the wordcount's down by a factor of lots. It's a toss up. The old mention of my 8th grade science fair sweep might've cinched that dive instructor position.