So, I was sitting at a bar a couple nights ago, killing some time. I picked up a local paper, and flipped to the back. Free will astrology, alternative horoscopes. Scanned down to ye ole Libra, and THIS is what I read:
I'm guessing that the
dry season will soon be arriving in your part of the world. The
waterholes may dwindle. But that could ultimately prove to be a lucky
development, because it will bring you into contact with interesting
life forms you might not have otherwise met.
Now, I am not one to read TOO much into astrological signs, but I may be heading out to traverse 100 700 or so miles of the desert in the driest year ever recorded in California.
I am surrounded by things. There are bookshelves full of books. A rod hung with little bright-colored sundresses and torn flannels. Notes from classes. Crock pots and jars of pickles, dog toys and dogs. A never-used sewing machine, and a barely-used pair of snowshoes. Objects mundane and objects sacred are scattered alike across this apartment.
Soon, I'll strip the maps off the walls, cram the clothes into garbage bags, and curse the heavy boxes of books and records. I'll plaster the holes in the walls and scrub the floors, replace the fire alarm batteries, and turn in my keys. We'll pack and argue and leave this snowy, gray Rust Belt city for the last time. But for now, I am surrounded by things.
In nine weeks, I will be finished with my Masters, studying the interactions between earthworms and earth. I will be leaving my job at the vet. I'll be moving from upstate New York. I'll be leaning on a few thousand dollars in savings, and the kindness of friends, family and strangers. The boyfriend and I will drive or fly or hitch to southern California, to the Mexico border and walk into the desert. We'll spend five months heading north to Canada.
AND I AM SO EXCITED
