Last week, I left my home to move to a foreign city, for a job I didn’t know much about. I drove out of Colorado at 5am, on clear Tuesday morning. The road was silent and empty besides my loyal Toyota Corolla, Charlie, packed with my life, a sleepy boyfriend and a rubber chicken with a rosary, that had crossed the Atlantic, around its neck. 

I was as prepared as I would ever be. 

Earl, the chicken, is somewhat of a family heirloom. If you know anything about the Van Wormer/Wogan clan, it’s that we take our rubber chickens seriously. They are our good luck charms, guardians, and silent companions along the alluring road of adventure. The have witnessed it all.