I think it's safe to say that I'm not entirely honest when I write this blog. Because I'd really prefer that the casual reader envies me, rather than pitying me, I'm never going to air dirty laundry, talk in detail about friendships or relationships, or give too much air time to the negative emotions that we all have to deal with at some point or another. It's a delicious truism of the blogosphere that no one ever reads what you write until you put your foot in your mouth--and then suddenly everyone is reading. (As a quiet, creepy blog reader I relish it when a distant acquaintance overshares in public...)
All this to say, this post will be a little more "dear diary" than most. Maybe because I haven't raced or traveled in a bit, or maybe because I have some stuff to process.
So I'm leaving in the fall. I'm doing it. I've said it every year since graduation, but now I'm doing it. I've just spent an embarrassing number of hours reading the posts at Geargals and I think Jill is my new favorite person. She steals the thoughts out of my head and writes them down way more articulately than I could ever manage, all while wielding power tools and fearlessly playing in the snow. I aspire to all of these things. She described what I want to do as a walkabout, which is just right; I know where I'll end up, when all is said and done, but I have to put the time in first. I need to run away from the homeland, the cushy place of easy, easy living and glorious trails and awesome people, and just get some damn experience out there in the big scary world.
I'm very envious of my friends that can drop everything and live the nomad's life on a whim. After living in the same apartment for all my adult years, I took an entire month to move into a friend's house four blocks away. I've done some hardcore purging of my possessions and tamed my acquisitive nature (no more buying clothes, ever, but I can't seem to stop spending money on my sexy, demanding bike). In this very slow, very timid little endeavor, I've found that I am not a hoarder, not overly attached to stuff, and that I can force myself to be organized and (almost) tidy when necessary. Good things to know, because if I want to take this party west, I'll need to simplify even more, be even more frugal, and to keep my shit together.
I really hate Brevard sometimes, for all of the same reasons I love it. Everyone freaking knows me. This is not gross egotism speaking, it's just a result of growing up in the bakery, going to school here, and becoming a part of the very large outdoor community. I really, really didn't want everyone to know I was planning to jump ship, but of course it leaked, and now I get the same questions every day. Where in Cali? How long? Why? So you've found a job, right?
It's okay though, because now I'm being held accountable. If I don't skedaddle come leaf season, I'll have to face another six months of conversations about it. It's all in kindness, of course, but I really. Really. Really don't like talking about myself and my plans to all the well-meaning customers and acquaintances in this little town. I'm a hermit at heart, obviously.
So. Watch this space, I guess. Also, some pics might surface eventually of wonderful weddings and picturesque bike rides...but I can't make any promises.