My sophomore class is reading "Fahrenheit 451" and since each day they have a journal entry to write, Tuesday's was "Are you happy? What is happiness?" I asked that question because Clarisse asked Montag if he was happy (see, I have a journal-novel connection).
That question got me wondering. I am not happy. I pretend to be and since I'm such a good actress, I manage to pull it off convincingly. But I'm not. I always knew I wasn't, and this trip to New York made it more evident. I am bored. I want a different kind of life and I am too bored here. I love my friends and family, but I want to have adventures. New York gave me the time to have an adventure (as did San Diego). I miss exploring places and finding out new things, which is why I have to move. Living in New York will be a constant exploration and adventure. If not New York, I could move to DC or one of my other cities of choice (my top choices are New York, San Diego, London and Washington DC). I love Houston, and Houston will always be home, but I think it's time to uproot my Southern self and live out of the South.
Sorry for the whining/complaining. I'm getting worried because my marathon is next week and I feel totally unprepared, and I'm taking out my fears and frustrations on myself. Meaning I am a nervous, grumpy wreck and I can't wait until the marathon is over (actually, I can't wait until mile 20 and the bridge is behind me). One week and two days away...
Are you happy?
2 comments:
Or consider Los Angeles. It's a beautiful place to live....
I've just read your blog from top to bottom, and I just want to encourage you to go ahead and make a jump. But, consider the "Wisdom of Tarzan." "Never let go of one vine until you have a firm grasp on the next one."
I enlisted in the Air Force in 1969--I know, that's just an eternity ago--and when I got away from my rural Alabama environs, I swore that I'd never live in Alabama again. The Air Force moved me around considerably--Massachusetts, Colorado, Texas (two different locations), Germany, Virginia (The Pentagon), Alabama (two different locations), Mississippi, and Florida.
When my wife and I attended a High School Reunion, we sat with a tableful of our contemporaries. For the most part, their universe had been bounded by Panama City, FL on the south, New Orleans or Biloxi to the west, Nashville to the north, and Atlanta to the east. In the meantime, my kids had skied in Austria, had visited East Berlin and the Berlin Wall, had eaten Thanksgiving dinner in Paris, had seen the Passion Play in Oberamergau--the home of the Passion Play--had camped in Austria, Switzerland, and Italy, had floated ornithopters off the Leaning Tower of Pisa, had visited numerous Civil War battlefields, and actually had an historical perspective on where they had been and what they had done.
The bottom line to all this is that breaking away from the status quo doesn't get any easier as you get older. The deeper your roots probe, the more difficult it is to pull yourself away. In all fairness, there are things I regret: I regret that my kids never knew their grandparents really well; I regret that my kids never have a place to go back to and say, "I'm going home" (but when you ask my kids--both now grown and away from home themselves for years--"where's home?" they'll tell you "Where my parents are is home."
Whatever you decide to do, wherever you decide to go, whenever you decide to do it, I wish you only the best. Go, do, permit yourself to look back, but do it without regrets.
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