I’m back in New York. I drove here, from Texas, in two days. The time alone with my kitten was exactly what we needed.
I’m excited to be back: I haven’t been to the Museum of Natural History in years, even though I was only gone for two months. Before I drove to Texas, that didn’t bother me—I was okay with not doing anything too crazy. Now that I’m back, though, it would be unforgivable to take advantage of my living situation again.
My kitten misses playing outside. A true wild child, she craves adventure. There was this one time, one of my neighbors was outside, playing with a remote control helicopter. She mauled it like a pro. The weather’s too cold for her here. Google calls it 29 degrees, and in Magnolia, it’s 39. I took her outside, yesterday, and in ten minutes, her furry little hide was shivering. I found her across the street in a neighbor’s yard, sipping water out of the cracks in his driveway.
I bought her a remote control car. I’m going to tie a string and a ball to its bumper, and see if she gives chase. Right now, though, the car still scares her. It may have something to do with the fact that the car’s as big as she is.
It’s so easy to be unhappy. It’s so easy to just not care that you live 45 minutes away from one of the most famous and interesting cities in the world, and then drive to Texas. Have you ever wanted to visit a city in a foreign country? I figure, why not do it in your hometown? Why not sightsee in your backyard? I think there’s this idea, the kind a lot of us have, that suggests we are happiest when we are far away from home.
Is that true?
The Buddhists have a saying: wherever you go, there you are.
New Orleans was nice. On my way back, I stopped in to visit an old friend. They’ve got these trees, there, these tremendous trees with looming, thick trunks and branches that look so heavy and exhausted from the thick Louisiana moisture that they just want to sort of sag there, draped on the palpable air, exhausted from just existing.
I bought a couple of pre-packaged long island ice teas and margaritas at the gas station. That was cool.
So, my inner compass is spinning, now, back and forth, not seeming to have any direction. That’s not true, of course…you’re always going somewhere; but I think it’s time to go and discover where I want this needle to be pointing. As soon as I get the chance, I’m gonna try and explore the city a bit…but I think I might need a little money for that.
They got five minute chess out there, blitz chess, and I lose every time.
I think I just need to get out there and wander around.