These two words are front and center of my weary brain—weary because my whirlwind decision to embark on a new adventure has resulted in a whirlwind unloading of 95% of my possessions (you would be surprised how painful letting go of a coffee maker can be); and front and center because . . . well, I'm doing it! I'm moving from Texas to Florida BY MYSELF!
I know. I'm wearing my big girl panties, but it's still a huge deal for me.
To help christen my journey into a new life, my sister is flying out from Phoenix to take to the highways with me on a girls' road trip. Austin to Ocala, baby! The last time we hit the pavement together was Spring Break 1976 and our destination was Rocky Point, Mexico. Si, amigos. El Baja. That trip was memorable for the many things that qualified as "shit you can't make up," and I'm torn between wishing for an uneventful, leisurely trip this time or one so fantastic that I won't need to make shit up. I even bought a groovy digital camera to record anything outrageous—just for you guys. Frankly, I'll be disappointed if I can't brag about at least something weirderific. Like what if there's an old broad tootling around naked in a red hooptie? And what if she's got a buddy and she's naked too? And they're laughing hysterically and snapping photos of people's shock as they drive by. I mean, if I can talk my sister into it, imagine the looks we'd get! Totally worth the cost of the camera, I'm betting.
I know. Just how juvenile can I get? Well, depends on if I can talk my sister into it or if she leaves me on the side of the road.
So there you have it. When last I blogged, I hinted at big changes on the horizon. Leaving the city I've called home for most of the last 17 years is a leap of faith in my commitment to make my dream a reality. The net promises to appear wherever and however I land so I can concentrate on my writing. What cool stuff is going to manifest in my future? Who will I meet? How will my life be changed?
I know. It's the hap-hap-happiest of horseshit, but it's MY horseshit, and I believe in it.
Wish me Vaya con destiny, people. I'll post some of our journey next week.
May 27, 2010
ROAD TRIP!
May 10, 2010
A Magic 8-Ball State of Mind
Okay, so while my blog has been unusually quiet because I'm on hiatus, BIG changes are happening behind the scenes. In fact, I've switched tacks.
You know how you dream about being some place totally different than where you are right now? You know how you say, One of these days, when all the stars align, when the kids no longer need me, or when money falls from the sky, I'm going to do/go/be _______ (fill in the blank)? I'm going to reinvent myself and my life. I will finally do it, go there, be that . . . One of these days.
Followed by big sighs, slumps in your chair, and massive doses of reality and routine in the form of work, money, bills, kids, deadlines, whatever.
And then because the universe works in crazy wondrous ways, an opportunity comes along that answers the call your subconscious has been busily broadcasting across the galaxy—the opportunity that could bring you closer to your dream. It's a glimmer of realization that hits you, and your whole body stills to take measure of this tiny, hopeful spark. You stare at it, mull it over, toss around the possible pitfalls. You shake it like a Magic 8-ball, and the triangle that stares back at you reads, As I see it, yes. You do a double-take. Signs point to yes. Is this wishful thinking or just craziness? Outlook good. If I don't recognize opportunity for what it is, I can't accept it for what it is, and then will it be gone with one more shake of the 8-ball? That I will later regret? Most likely.
How many missed opportunities have there been in your life? Concentrate and ask again.
Yeah, that's the kind of thing I'm looking at RIGHT NOW. I've sent off the kids to Atlanta (boo-hoo big time!), my house is nearly empty, and I have a place to go across town. It's the safe thing to do but gets me no closer to living my dream. Outlook not so good. But a random rant to a beloved confidant has spurred something new and exciting—that hopeful spark. Yes, I'm moving toward the light. (Not that one.) Toward sunnier days. Now the safe thing doesn't feel like the right thing. So I'm about to take a calculated (repeatedly in my Excel spreadsheets) risk. Aahh, there's that troublesome little word: risk. If it's worth having, is it worth the risk?
If the stars continue to align, in three weeks, I'll be in a whole 'nother state. Mentally, emotionally, geographically. My life. In flux. On the cusp. It is decidedly so. Wish me luck.
What exactly is on the horizon for me? Better not tell you now.
But soon. You may rely on it.
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