Okay...Catchy Title

I was carrying a few things from the van to the hotel room. I saw someone walking into my room and did what you shouldn’t do—I ran in to confront them. It was a hobo looking dude, cuts on his face, towel wadded up in one hand. He had an easy smile, said he was housekeeping. I told him I didn’t need anything and he left. I saw him on the balcony a couple of minutes later tossing things into a laundry cart; maybe he actually was a housekeeper. It has been a weird week.

On Tuesday, the left sliding door on my Honda Odyssey went off track. Of course, this didn’t happen in a town, it happened out in the middle of the woods where no one could help me. Amazingly, I sorted out the problem, sawing a cable and getting the door closed before the rains came that night. It felt like a huge accomplishment and I felt proud…until I tripped over a stump in the dark. Don’t worry, a nice tree broke my fall…and my glasses. All this may sound awful, like I am telling some dreary story of woe, but things don’t really faze me. Even when I discovered my “repair” had set loose some electrical gremlin, disabling the van. Luckily I was able to jump it this morning and get to the Econo-Lodge. This is my life, a series of adventures, mostly in in my van, occasionally in non-descript hotel rooms where I have awkward conversations with friendly men with scabbed faces.

A new book is out, this one a collection of stories I’ve been writing since 2010. It includes a story Chuck Palahniuk helped edit, a cursed raft trip, and “what if’s” related to Kurt Cobain, Eric Clapton, the Rolling Stones, and Depeche Mode. It’s an odd fucking book, which why I named it Career Suicide Comes in Twelve Colors. It odd but still a good read. I am absolutely useless at links, just look up “Izaak David Diggs Career Suicide."

I got to Bend this morning, breathed a sigh of relief, and ate a large breakfast before hiking up a slightly larger butte. I have no idea how long I will be here. Part of me wants to operate on a budget, part really wants to do karaoke. It was a gorgeous morning that became a gorgeous afternoon with the chill burning off. After walking a few miles I sat in a bar next to the hotel nursing a beer and contemplating the future. My ideal is to own land with a few like minded people/families. I really don’t want to do it alone and run the risk of being some sort of Unabombery hermit. Being (mostly) alone this past year has made me aware of the downside of such an existence, just getting stuck in your own loop, losing the ability to interact with people. I might try and get a place in a small arty town…maybe I will take these days in the hotel room to sort that out.