I'm not in Europe

I was just re-reading some earlier posts and realized that the first post of this entire blog indicated that I'd be in Eastern Europe about this time. Well, I'm not. I'm in Lexington, at my mom's house, sitting at the kitchen table and watching a cardinal eat from the bird feeder. And I'm supremely happy to be here.

Europe fell through (after lots of planning and excitement that Rob and I would spend time traveling around the Czech Republic and Poland) because Rob didn't get his passport in time. It's taking a long (looooonnnnnnggggg) time to get passports now. A few years ago, Rob would have had his passport within two months time, and we'd be in Prague. But now it takes something like four months to obtain a passport, so we're in Kentucky. And things couldn't be better.

I'm really getting cold feet about going abroad this fall. Life is beautiful here, and I no longer feel a need to run from anything. That was what was attractive about traveling all the time: I got to escape everything that was making me ill at ease. Now, I'm still pretty heavily involved in things that have potential to make me ill at ease (Holocaust and genocide studies, reading "dark" literature about insanity and mind control and alternate realities and the horrors of contemporary existence), but I'm pleased with them. I'm very much in love, and love is liberating. And addictive. I'm afraid that I won't know how to function again if I lose it. So, this is the main reason for the cold feet. I'm accustomed to love again, and afraid of losing it. I'm functioning so well right now, because I have my best friend. I existed, and existed just fine, when I didn't have him. But now I do, and I'd rather not lose him again. Life's just better when he's there.

Sometime soon I'll post more writing, writing that actually says something, and says it well, perhaps. This was just a moment's spasm of the fingers as I watch a squirrel try to attack my mom's birdfeeder. If my mom were here, she come running toward the window, screaming "you nasty squirrel!", and pounding her knuckles on the glass. And the squirrel would freak out and go scrambling away, just barely making the leap from birdfeeder to wooden railing. Or maybe he'd fall to the ground.

Alright. I'm leaving.