Santa Cruz Chronicles - Day 2 & 3 combo

08/09/12

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I had the innate pleasure of experiencing an “I’m not in Kansas anymore” feeling yesterday.  It was the day before my sister, Coleen bade me farewell in my new hometown of Santa Cruz.  We were in finding-a-cheap-yet-sturdy-dresser mode, and couldn’t help but acknowledge the heavenly sound that found it’s way into our ears while walking through town.  Apparently I had been too engrossed in admiring the atmosphere around us to realize that the sound we were hearing was coming from a real live harp player.  Yes, a big one.  On the sidewalk.  Being the spontaneous giver that she has forever been, Coleen backtracked to drop a dollar bill into the harpist’s collection bucket, and then we were back on the hunt for that dresser.  

Long story short, we found a deal on a dresser at a very thrifty thrift store in the heart of downtown Santa Cruz.  Day two came to a quick yet memorable close as Coleen and I enjoyed a bite to eat at a place on the wharf called “Fire Fish.”  They had an impressive menu, to say the least.  And we would know.  We closely examined every single menu as we passed by restaurants, since we were simultaneously determined to find both a restaurant to eat at and the perfect sweatshirt for my sister.  The very last store on the pier was where we struck luck with sweatshirts, and then made our way back to, and ended up at Fire Fish since it struck our fancy so much.  After dinner, and en route to the movie theater to see a film Coleen had already seen three times, I was in dire need of some frozen yogurt.  Shocker.  Needless to say, my frozen yogurt standards are fairly high.  Some would argue that I’m picky about my yogurt, but it’s only because no frozen yogurt place will ever amount to “America’s Cup,” my premiere hometown yogurt joint.

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Day three.  Thursday.  Today I took Coleen to San Jose International Airport, and am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I’m officially on my own.  It’s a strange feeling, really, because even though I’m more financially on my own than I’ve ever been, I feel as though I have the support of more people than I’ve ever had.  I suppose it’s one of those give and take things.  After dropping Coleen off at the airport and running back around my car and into the driver’s seat after a long hug, I made the solo drive back to downtown Santa Cruz for a quick grocery store trip, and then to meet with my new bosses: my editor at the paper I’ll be interning at, and my new manager at my new Starbucks, both of whom seemed incredibly amiable and easy to talk to from the get-go.  

After spending practically the whole day running amok around the downtown area, it was time to get back to my new house to work on organizing slash decking out my room a bit more, and then eventually head out on a real run before the sun went down.  I was originally going to leave my old race bib numbers in a box at home when I left, but something within me urged me to take them with me and pin some up in my new room.  Maybe it seems a little nostalgic, but maybe I like nostalgia.  Sue me.  I like being reminded of things that I’ve accomplished.  And races are great indicators and prime examples of accomplishment.  That being said, I pinned up a few bib numbers and then laced up my trainers to hit the road.  

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Without sounding like a complete over-exaggerator, there isn’t anything like running along the Santa Cruz coastline.  I mean, running in Newport Beach and the surrounding Orange County area is special in their own peculiar ways, but there’s something completely compelling about running down West Cliff Drive, and overlooking gaping cliffs and the majestic Santa Cruz pier and boardwalk.  So far, I’ve only been on two runs here since arriving in town, and both of them have included running alongside the ocean.  It’s mildly addicting, and I’m going to eventually going to have to branch out and discover new and different routes.  The air is so crisp, it’s not even fair.  And it’s scary how pedestrians and automobile operators are so incredibly biker and runner-friendly.  A run along the coast will never be out of the question, but since I’ve already run there two days in a row, I intend on soon exploring the area around the campus of UC Santa Cruz on future runs.  How can I not?  It’s gorgeous.  Not to mention, it encompasses the most acres of any UC campus in the state.  Can you say “more mileage”?  

As always, tomorrow is a new day.  Each one has great potential.  I can hardly wait to begin my day with an early jaunt around the UCSC campus, followed by my first day at my new Starbucks.  I look forward to fresh faces, new acquaintances, and interesting stories to tell.