For my brash delivery
But I remember vivivdly
What these streets did to me.

Jay-Z, "What More Can I Say"
---
Day Fourteen
Gave myself a heightened sense of self-importance by having an epic adventure (or, took advantage of the fact that Thousand Oaks is one of the safest places in the country)

My wireless network card in Perseus had been this cheap D-Link card that didn't play nice with Windows, but it worked well enough for me to enjoy Internet access in my house. But because I wanted to update my card to 802.11g, it meant that I would have to go by Best Buy to pick up a new NIC.

So getting dropped off at Best Buy was the first step.

At the checkout line, the Asian cashier asked to see my ID. I show him my passport and rehash the familiar quip about how TGIFridays wouldn't let me sit at the bar with a passport as identification (so apparently, I'm not allowed to go to Libya or sample the new Atkins-friendly menu).

At this point, it's only 7:20, and I still have the option of calling Carroll to come and pick me up. I decide to have dinner first at Stuft Pizza, since they had an unusually large amount of San Diego sports memorabilia (Chargers helments, Padres pennants, photos of Dan Fouts, that sort of thing). The pizza itself was passable, but it was nice to be in a sports bar and let myself by immersed in the glow of baseball from regional Fox Sports feeds.

But I had a good time watching the Angels and Padres, and decided that it was time to go home. The time was 8:10pm. I proceeded to walk, thinking back on my days in high school when I didn't have a car and walked 45 minutes every day from school back home. Combine that with my Filipino diet (rice, rice, and more rice), I think that the walk was the only reason I didn't end up weighing half-a-ton.

Walking by mini-malls is interesting to me, for the same reason that biking past them is: I notice more stores than if I were driving past them. I was just beginning to start a very peaceful train of thought at this point in my journey when all of a sudden, a cat darts across Moorpark Road and gets struck by a car that I think accelerated into it. I thought it would get crushed under the tire, but the sound it made was more like it hit the bumper mid stride. The cat got back up and darted into the bushes. I tried looking for it to make sure it was okay, but couldn't find it.

This stretch of Moorpark Road doesn't have a sidewalk on my side of the street. The bike lane is about the width of man holding a yellow Best Buy bag, with enough room, perhaps, for an actually cyclist to ride past.

Somewhere around Janss Road I began to realize the enormity of this journey. Walking, it seems, sucks when it's your only means of conveyance. But I reached Avenida de los Arboles and opted to take the long way home. I'm not sure what led me to that decision, but I think it's because I had ridden down Avenida de los Arboles many times before on bike, and decided that a new experience was always a better option. I mean, I'd have to walk home anyway, so I might as well make it exciting for me.

At this point, it's gotten pretty dark, and there are no street lights in this part of Thousand Oaks. But I knew when a car was approaching behind me because my yellow bug would catch the glow of headlights and turn translucent. It's as if my 802.11g network card all of a sudden turned radioactive or was ready to burst with ethereal energy. It's interesting; every time that bag glowed, it would take me a second to realize that it wasn't the bag or its contents, but rather that a car was behind me. It would be then that I would note the lights appearing on feet, as if a spotlight were shining behind me to illuminate my way. And as the car sped way to quickly on Moorpark Road, my shadow would get thrown beside me, moonwalking its way backwards before disappearing again.

When a car approached from the opposite way, it would be more interesting. With no lights, the road was a lake of black, and a car's lights creeping over the horizon threw planes of light across the street. In a perfectly level street, the road would gradually illuminate in a straight line. But because of the imperfections in the road, it appeared as if the light made the darkness evaporate from puddles of shadow, revealing the asphalt underneath.