8/15: Central Square, NY- About Face

I’d first heard about Oregon on Friday. It wasn’t until I knew their departure date that I seriously considered trying to making it happen. If I wanted to, I had a week to turn tail and get from extreme northern New York to Ohio, where I hoped Michelle would pick me up and help me to catch my stage west.

Subconsciously, I knew what I was going to do all along. I have the short-bus habit of quietly making quick, rash, often foolish decisions, then acting out the drama to appear as though I’m anguishing with the already completed process. Often, I even Don Quixote myself into believing I’m still trying to decide. I really hate this tendency!

8/14: Massena, NY- Cracks

It took some time to understand, but Saturday morning’s frustration was less about Ahab, Ginger, or Bill than myself. Somehow that perfect Friday soured, and although I meant no harm other than being my oft-obnoxious self, something sinister and familiar crashed my little party via the radio conversation: what Chris likes to refer to as my negativity and judgment. Guilty: I have a track record as one aggressive, direct, cold, bitter son-of-a-bitch-- especially when someone tries to sell me on the value of conservatism or that shell-of-a-medium called radio! I suppose that’s because on some level, it still matters to me. The conversation ended, but I lugged the negative energy with me.