15 august 2000 | back | archive | forward | girl | sign | e-mail

he is leaving monday on a trip to anywhere.

i don't know if he realizes how amazing it sounds. how completely exciting and romantic and inspiring and frightening it sounds. one month on the road with a truck filled with gas, a backpack stuffed with enough clean underwear and enough cash and maps and courage to get by. it's what novels are made of.

the way my friend greg announced it, i felt like a girl in a faraway land in a time long ago.

"i'm leaving on monday and going to be on the road for a long, long time."

"i will not hear from you then, i guess, while you are gone?"

"maybe not. i'll send you mail, but i'll be unfindable."

no e-mail, no modem, no netscape. no TV, no DVD, no CDs. no desk, no chair, no bed. no parents, no brothers, no girls, no friends. just strangers, and stars, and space.

lots of space.

"i will send you messages blown in the wind and through the stars. i will ask a little angel to follow you around and sit on your shoulder. i will also say prayers for no big scary hairy men, or women for that matter, to come hurt you."

"grizzly bears."

"yes," i said. "those, too."

there are days when i think i could do that. when i could just pack up and leave. if my car would make it out of this city without overheating or breaking down. if i had enough in my bank account to pay for more than a happy meal a day. if i had something tangible waiting for me at the end of the road. like a job. or a lover. or a future.

"have you lost your desire to run?" he asked.

"is that a question or a song lyric?"

"no, that's a question."

"you mean to leave LA?"

"to leave, a lot."

"i have not lost the desire. i'm just trying to do what's right."

"i know."

"i have no clue, really, what i should be doing on this earth. none. so i see what opportunities i get and take the ones that make the most sense. and if there are no opportunities then i have to believe there is a reason for that."

at that moment, i didn't want to think about my life, not when i was fantasizing about his. the adventure awaiting him.

i've had many adventures of my own: i've traveled to far-off places and done several things my own parents have never even done. but today, greg is my hero. my holden caulfield, my thelma and louise, my jack kerouac. he's my favorite novel, and i can't wait to see how it ends.

tonight, one last hurrah with my roommate, michelle. well, not "last" as in never will we hang out again, because we most certainly will. just not in a while, perhaps, as she is off on her own adventure to grad school on friday. you haven't known sweet unless you've known michelle.

dull, pokey, achey stomach pains all day long.

lucy in the sky with diamonds.

"i was walking around in saw dust barefoot."

i have found the nearest bookstore to my new home. i have found my heaven.

my moody mood