Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Home and then.

I'm excited about this place because it seems like it will be the endless stream of possibility. I am currently at a social disadvantage, but that will improve in time. Fort Wayne is not about happiness, Fort Wayne is about rebuilding a personal empire. It's like a giant cocoon, and I should, in theory, emerge free and prepared for something entirely new within a year. That is the plan. I swear. I will say, though, that boredom leads me to doing strange and unexpected things.

We will begin our roadtrip plans this week. We should leave Tuesday or Wednesday, hitting the road with full force. There are definite couches and floors to sleep on in Eugene, L.A., San Francisco, Arizona, Vermont, and Brooklyn. Hopefully, we can get to all of these places. I need to return by June 18 because Lilly and Terry are getting married in Kentucky on June 19, and there's no way I'm missing it.

Currently, I feel totally unprepared. I'm still in a bit of a post-graduation funk that causes me to sleep most of my time away. The room I'm sleeping in is tiny and I'm still trying to decide on how I want to position my belongings therein. My possessions are still in boxes all over this house and in the back of my truck. Can't stop the funk. The post-graduation funk.

I was playing a lot of music before I left Bloomington. Actually playing my guitar in front of people isn't something I've ever been entirely comfortable with, but always something I've felt secretly confident about. I'm considering bringing my acoustic guitar with me on the road. I will have to discuss it with Deanna, but I don't think she'll have much of a problem with it. I see it as a possible panhandling opportunity should we need it.

We will be traveling in her black, soft top convertible. Space is limited but should only be occupied by clothing, bathroom supplies, camping equipment and food. That sounds like a lot, but I'm thinking it should only take up the trunk space, leaving the backseat comfortably empty, save for the possibility of accommodating my guitar.

I wish I'd been able to spend more time planning this trip, but there's something in the impromptu aspect that makes me feel even more excited about it. Planning somehow feels pointless or against the nature of the roadtrip itself. The journey is the adventure, as clich├ęd as that is.

I want to see as many crazy things as possible. That's really the only thing we should plan for. Detours. A series of crazy detours.

Really, coming home to Fort Wayne feels like this roadtrip, in a way. It is the denial of the old plan to go straight into grad school. It is a crazy detour with practical purpose. It's like the time I went to Massachusetts with my family because we wanted to see the statue of an ancestor in Springfield, then found the Dr. Seuss Memorial Statue Garden about 20 feet away from that statue.

The detours are always the most memorable bits of the trip, aren't they?

No comments:

Post a Comment