I never thought I'd be relieved to realize that something I'm trying to do is impossible, but it's true: if the task is simply impossible, you don't have to try anymore. I didn't make a conscious decision; I just woke up and knew. It's a release, of sorts, and I celebrated this weekend by going on a bike ride Sunday afternoon. It was lovely: turns out there's a tiny town called Canyon on the other side of the foothills, and the main road through town (Canyon Road, fancy that) starts in a canyon and winds its way up the hill through a grove of redwoods. The area looks and feels, as Kristin pointed out, exactly like Marin, right down to the cool damp air and the stream burbling next to the road. We also passed by the saxophone house on Old Tunnel Road, a fantastic(al) piece of architecture that I'd also never known about. I've decided that when I move to Boston, if I don't have a job, I'm going to spend my free time biking around the city to get to know all the neighborhoods and their quirks. I just hope I get the chance to explore more of the Bay Area before I go.